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 Posted: Sun Dec 14, 2014 2:20 pm
Night Sky
Nothing can, he almost said. The two times he was sure he was going to die—not in the impersonal this mission will have casualties where they all show up but in the highly personal you are right here and this is happening way—he simply didn't for one reason or another. Luck. Fate. Owain's intervention. Hell, kill him and there were still seven others out there wearing his face. He was practically unstoppable.
But it was good to take a break.
"Damn straight I can," he said with the same grin as he turned back to the sky. Whatever started the Jack ******** Hawthorn trend was probably his favorite by far. "Except handle heights apparently. Doesn't it freak you out even a little, having your legs out like that?"
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Posted: Sun Dec 14, 2014 2:29 pm
Night Sky
Chel looked at Jack with a twisted smile on her face. "M'not gonna die fallin' off some cliff," Chel said confidently. If Jack ******** Hawthorn was his catchphrase, then "What the ******** you take me for?" was hers.
She looked back up at the sky and more quietly said, "I guess it's 'cause if that's the way I go, that's the way I go." Somewhat more mysteriously she added, "Figure I already been dragged into hell, where else they gonna take me?"
Her eyes closed for a moment and the sky is black, the stars go out. She brings her smile back for her reprieve. "Plus I got prince charmin' here to catch me."
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Posted: Sun Dec 14, 2014 4:34 pm
Night Sky
"That sounds kind of metal. Cause of death: fell off a cliff." He laughed a little, like it honestly wasn't a fear he had pictured over a hundred times by now.
The hell comment got her some side eying, but he didn't pursue. It could mean a variety of things, most of which he feels is a minefield to navigate right now. "You sound pretty confident. Maybe I won't, though. Maybe I'll be busy sifting through my musical repertoire to try and find the miracle cure to my lyrical deficiency to go save you again."
He decided now was a good time to start, smirked, and took advantage of Chel closing her eyes to scoot surreptitiously closer. In her ear he sang, "It's something unpredictable, that in the end is right / I hope you had the time of your life~"
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Posted: Sun Dec 14, 2014 4:42 pm
Night Sky
Chel's heart drops because she knows how entirely plausible that scenario is. She knows he's joking, but it still hurts to think he would choose music over her. But then- that's just sort of a stupid line of thinking isn't it? He's already chosen so many things over her-
"NO," Chel's eyes snapped open and she batted him away with a hand. "NoooooooOOO." The look she gave him was killer, insulted that he would do such a thing. "Why? Why Jackles?"
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Posted: Sun Dec 14, 2014 4:57 pm
Night Sky
He was fended off easily and broke into more laughter at the look on her face, the sound echoing a little around them. "'Cause I had to see that reaction," Jack replied impishly as he rubbed the spot she hit. He wasn't shielding himself, though, or rolling away in case Chel had more retaliation for him: no, he had to see every second of that dagger-glare. "Worth it. I'm open to requests if that makes up for it."
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Posted: Sun Dec 14, 2014 5:05 pm
Night Sky
Chel didn't quite sit up all the way, but she propped herself up on an elbow, cheek in her hand so she could look down on Jack. "Now yer askin' to serenade me. I dunno if my little heart can take it."
She pulled her legs up from between the bars, because laying on her side with her legs downwards was getting uncomfortable. "Whateva will I tell my line of suitahs?"
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Posted: Sun Dec 14, 2014 5:24 pm
Night Sky
"What, this? Oh this isn't serenading, this is me gracing you with my vocal magic." It was clear he was just being over the top for fun now. "Proper serenading needs Barbara on the scene," he corrected her. "Maybe I'll save it for when I make you breakfast." Some nebulous date in the future he kept putting off and he didn't know why.
He stayed on his back and scooted until they were brushing against each other. The view of Chel from below was new; he wondered if this was a little like how she saw him while they were standing. "Come on," he said with a grin. "I thought you liked my Nickleback impression at least. Or were you just lying to make me feel better?"
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Posted: Sun Dec 14, 2014 5:30 pm
Night Sky
"Yeah if that's gonna ever happen," she said with a roll of her eyes, poking at the very thought he'd just been musing over. "I wonder if Dawson can sing ..." It would have been an innocent thought, had Chel not been tapping her chin theatrically.
Chel let out a yawn and said, "Me? Lie? No neeever." It was said with a sleepy kind of laziness, the same comfort she'd shown in his lap last night. "You are the best nickleback ever. Just not really sure why you'd even want that title."
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Posted: Sun Dec 14, 2014 5:54 pm
Night Sky
It was annoying how every mention of the guy managed to bug him, but he couldn't stop the prickling sensation or the slight dip in his smile. Chel was doing this on purpose, wasn't she: some underhanded way of punishing him for not saying yes when she asked. (He hated it was starting to work.)
Irked into action again, Jack mimicked her and propped himself up on his side. He was still very close to her. It wasn't hard at all to broach what little distance there was between their faces, to reach up with his other hand and cup her cheek with cold fingers, to turn it the way he wanted, to touch foreheads and brush noses, to be inches from kissing her and still be in control of himself and his every impulse, to gaze at her with something akin to what he had by the fire.
"Forget about him," he instructed.
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Posted: Sun Dec 14, 2014 6:06 pm
Night Sky
Chel smirked (almost ... on equal ground with Jack?) the same smarmy grin he always gave her. She hadn't actually thought Jack to get jealous over anything, especially not Dawson, yet here he was playing the part of an all but horny teenager. Of course Chel held no traction in this race, she had no defenses for Jack, but she did have an upper hand in particularly physical interactions, merely on merit of experiential expertise.
"And if I don't?" she questioned him back with equal force. She didn't move, didn't budge; neither did she get closer nor did she pull away. As she spoke they were close enough and it was cold enough that she could see the air coming out of his mouth. "What you gonna do, Beanstalk?" Now it's a challenge.
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Posted: Sun Dec 14, 2014 6:28 pm
Night Sky
"Nothing," he replied, a corner of his lips tugging up at the resistance; it was almost as attractive as when she whimpered. "I don't have to do anything. You'd be the one trying to stretch yourself between two people--and I can tell you that's a losing battle right there."
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Posted: Sun Dec 14, 2014 6:45 pm
Night Sky
Chel sat up all the way now, willing herself away on Tenebrae's suggestion. < Pull away so that he may not have you. > Chel wonders what stake Tenebrae has in this. He's never been so vocal before.
It's almost like a challenge. "Nothin' I ain't done before," she responded conversationally with a defeated sigh and a stretch upward that ended up with her hands calmly laced behind his neck. She gestured with a pull that he should sit up too.
She fought back a yawn, feeling all too tense for something so casual. "Kind of a weak prince charmin' line, y'know?"
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Posted: Sun Dec 14, 2014 7:25 pm
Night Sky
He doesn't care for her blase response. The view is gorgeous. They're close. They're alone. These are the things that matter. He can't accept that his twisted attempts to flirt with her might just fail; no, he's always got to try and have the last word, whether Chel actually cares about it or not.
He sits up as suggested but does far more than that. The hand that was used to prop him up balls into her jacket and pulls her in, the hand that slips from her cheek finds its place again and firmly directs her into the kiss. He refuses to believe it's from possessive roots, because even he knows in truth she doesn't belong to him, but there is still a need there he can't begin to explain, a beyond petty need to keep her from broadening her scope and realizing just how shitty he is in comparison to anyone else.
It's a rare concession: he doesn't like--loathes really--showing attachment like this. It's far too easy for people to manipulate. He should know, Chel has been the victim of it for so long now. So when Jack pulls away a few inches, there's a defensive look in his eyes, a pre-emptive response to what experience has taught him as a sign of weakness.
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Posted: Sun Dec 14, 2014 8:21 pm
Night Sky
She jerks in surprise at first, but then her hands naturally tug at the hair on the back of his head. Kissing isn't hard, having the natural motions for physicality isn't hard, it's the man doing it that confuses her.
It's just as warm as the last time, despite the Chinese winter.
When he stops and pulls back she's smiling. She's smiling for him certainly, but she's more so smiling for herself. It's almost triumph, but it isn't victory, only hope. A slim chance that's been given to her, and because of that she smiles.
(But a very small part of her is sad, because she knows this is such a minimally contained moment and that there is no future for it. Hanna waits back at Deus. She can't picture Jack seriously telling everyone that he and Chel are dating without the hair rising on his neck from embarrassment. There's Chris crossing his arms and Dawson planning their next date. There's Jack shutting down and denying this kiss ever happened. There are a thousand problematic textures to this moment. Tenebrae knows these things, but he is quiet because it is funny and it is his only entertainment).
In hindsight she would laugh because it had been jealousy (in her eyes) that had sparked his action. As if he had any need to be jealous. As if she had eyes for someone else.
As if she could even remember Dawson's name at this point.
She does know that this is the point where they'd usually strip. Usually clothes come off, there's a night of fun, and then it ends in the morning the same way it always does. "Uhh, I don't really want anything serious." "Well that was fun. See you around." But China's too cold for sex, and it somehow makes her feel even closer to Jack because he can't perform the action and leave.
"Don't stop," she whispers softly, almost encouragingly so. There is a kindness in her voice that she only uses when someone is crying in her arms. Thus far it's a voice that on the island only Nevada has heard. If he stops, the moment stops and she is back to being Craft and that is not a person she wants to be. "Please don't stop."
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Posted: Sun Dec 14, 2014 9:29 pm
Night Sky
Don't be weird later, she'd said what felt like ages ago. That's precisely what this is: stuck in an hollow relationship that had been formed from ignoble intentions, flipping between distance and connection with someone he knows can never be unbiased about it, who lets him pull and push her like the tide.
Owain reminds him in what's almost a whisper: every action has to have a consequence. He doesn't want Jack doing this if it means stringing her along, but he has long since come to understand that Jack doesn't always act logically, that those times he doesn't are more necessary to his otherwise structurally sound world than he realizes. And he has also come to understand that as much as he can advise, that is all he will ever be capable of: Jack is, as Chel had thought once, a storm all his own. The simile hasn't been more appropriate than now, as a whirlwind of rising emotion versus pragmatic thought battles inside him.
Uncharacteristically, he hesitates, and for the briefest of moments he's not Jack ******** Hawthorn, but a young jaded man who's caught in a nasty tangle of frustration and guilty pleasure and genuine pleasure, who meets her continued acceptance of his flawed person with bafflement and just the slightest hint of color in his cheeks. He's aware of the various constraints tying them up, the possible outcomes of stopping or continuing, that it can be short-lived or drawn out until it wasn't allowed to be anymore or an admittance he didn't realize needed to be given or just another secret he keeps close to the vest. It's anything he wants it to be. It always is. He wishes tonight it wasn't, though. The balancing act isn't supposed to be this hard, the things he has to carry are becoming too heavy and the instructions too vague; he's starting to slip. It's unacceptable, and yet he's still telling himself he can do it, he can still maintain the balance. That childish fact is at the core of his being: that he can act as he wants and justify it every time, that he is immune to the effects it has on others.
But he's been thinking too much for the span of just a few seconds. So Jack leans back in for another kiss and closes his eyes and tries to keep lying to himself.
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