Modern/Fantasy RP

[vermilionredeyes]

((I ment poor Mike. XD Oh well...))

Jagger stirred and reached out again. His hands finding instead his loose shirt. He pulles it close and snuggles with it, smiling. The blush is still there, but he isn't breathing as heavy.

[vermilionredeyes]

((Koozle? Mike?))

[Koozle]

(I'm here, just distracted. @@ GM'ing is haaaard.)

Mike gives a sigh of defeat, simply standing next to the bed to wait for Jagger to decide to relenquish his anaconda grip on the baggy shirt.

[vermilionredeyes]

((May I ask what GMing is? ^_^;; And that's okay. ^_^))

Jagger moves his hands and they wrap around Mike's waist instead. He pulls him down onto the bed.

[Koozle]

(Game-mastering. XD The plot iniator.)

"Gyeep!" His arms wind-mill to try and keep from being pulled, but his balance is..... not to be rude, but it's not so great. He falls down with a muffled 'FWOOMP'.

[vermilionredeyes]

((Ah. Okay. ^.^))

Jagger still does not wake up and Mike lands on his side. He just hugs him closer and tighter, like a gaint teddy bear.

[Koozle]

"Oh, this is not good...." Mike addresses the ceiling as though it might help him, which, considering the very nature of the House, isn't entirely unlikely. But the ceiling remains a normal ceiling, not reacting to his comment.

[vermilionredeyes]

Jagger's hands move from his waist to his face. One hand plays with his hair while the other traces the form of his cheek.

[Koozle]

"Not good not good not good..." He says this very, very quietly as Jagger's hands start to move. Because, indeed, it's really not. XD; Mike's socially inept.

[vermilionredeyes]

Jagger sighs contently and his hands fall, laying gently on Mike's chest.

((I have to go. ;; ))

[Koozle]

(Awe. All right, see you later.)

Mike's still not very comfortable with this, holding super still.

[IceCreamKitty]

Jagger did not move the rest of the night. His dreams pleasant and clean.

[Koozle]

Mike, on the other hand, doesn't sleep. He stays awake with the expertise of one who's used to running on nerves alone.

[IceCreamKitty]

Jagger yawns the next morning and he is surprised to find Mike ontop of him. "MIKE!" He screeches, throwing the librarian off.

[Koozle]

He moves with surprising agility, landing cat-like on both feet, straightening. His face is almost ashen grey from lack of sleep, hair half-way out of his ponytail from his own agitated motions and Jagger's.

"THANK you." He rubs at his temples, looking rather agitated, and like a stressed little windmill, literally carreens out of the room like the Roadrunner in the Wil E. Cyote cartoons.