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 Posted: Mon Nov 05, 2018 10:44 am
It was the fifth of November.
For some people they'd be thinking of V for Vendetta or Guy Fawkes Day, for Noah Jones, it meant that he was thinking about his husband's birthday. Things between the two men had been rather strained, for a variety of reasons. Noah's mood had been more sour than usual and Paul was pricklier than he'd ever seen.
Noah knew that his bad mood always made Paul's worse and vice versa but he also knew that he'd hit a nerve when that ******** pumpkin thing had shown up and they couldn't find any information on it.
They'd even been so irritable that Noah had been refusing his favorite stress relieving past time. Which, really should have been a big red flag for both of them.
But it mostly meant that with Paul's birthday, he had much to 'make up' for.
So, when Paul woke up, he'd find their bed absent of his favorite redhead.
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Posted: Mon Nov 05, 2018 1:55 pm
When violet eyes opened to the dark bedroom, he debated on closing them again.
The day had been dreary - much like the ones before it had been. Usually rain didn't bother Paul enough to stop him from his morning run but for the last week or so, he'd either ignored his run altogether or made it an evening one, trying to push things out of his mind and/or ignore the elephant in the room when his redheaded spouse remained terse and quiet.
The same redhead that hadn't bothered to stay in bed that morning - but it was a Monday, s'probably meant he'd gone to work. After all, they needed money since their budget was tight.
Bitter words continued to haunt him, Paul's mood as s**t as it had been the week or so before, when they'd received that stupid ******** pumpkin in the mail. He knew he was being over dramatic about it but having Noah remain distant - even in the bedroom - had him grouchier than normal.
Part of his pride stung that Noah hadn't even wished him a happy birthday before leaving, though the little voice in the back of his head mockingly reminded him that he'd been the one to point out that his birthday was just another day.
Well, it seemed like he was getting what he asked for: nothing.
Climbing his way out of bed, lazy hands combed their way through short dark locks as he let out a long yawn. Coffee was the first order of the day - or whatever ********' time it was - and the large man trudged his way down the stairs, barefoot, with the gloomy grey daylight pouring through the living room from the large windows below.
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Posted: Tue Nov 06, 2018 9:44 am
The house was dark, something unusual considering how early both of the Joneses tended to get up, but, when Paul hit the last stair he'd hear the sound of the garage opening and a car pulling in. There was the sound of _multiple_ car doors opening and being shut and shuffling around before the garage door finally swung open.
In one hand Noah Jones carried a drink carrier with two cups nestled in either corner and in the other he held an unassuming brown box. If Paul looked close enough, he'd see the embossed label of the bakery they both liked.
When Noah realized his husband was practically in the room he froze, looking like a deer in headlights for a fraction of a second before he confidently strode forward. Once the box and coffee were set on the island in the kitchen, he tugged his coat more firmly against him before he made eye contact with Paul.
"You got up earlier than I anticipated," he said, as if it explained anything. "Wanted to surprise you with your favorites, for your birthday." Noah didn't approve of splurging on overly sugary and buttery pastries on a regular basis but it was a special day and he'd been neglectful, which meant he had more to make up for.
"Coffee too," he gestured at the cups from where they sat. "Some stuff's in your work out room too."
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Posted: Tue Nov 06, 2018 3:55 pm
He froze at the sound of the garage, initially assuming that he must have just missed his significant other leaving for work. When the echoing sound of the car door came after, though, eyebrows furrowed together.
Sure enough, bright red hair showed up in the doorway only a few moments later, the tall lanky ******** covered up by his long coat making an appearance with gifts in tow.
Paul made his way into the kitchen, closing in the distance between them as he silently watched the younger man deposit the bakery box on the table, then the coffee. His explanation didn't seem terribly excited - but he hadn't forgotten the event of the day, it seemed.
"Figured you headed into work already."
Lingering in the doorway for a moment, he finally made his way closer, tugging open the neatly tucked in cardboard flap and exposing the variety of sinful treats his spouse had gone out of his way to purchase. Thick fingers brushed over the various types - past the bear claw, past the jelly-filled, past the croissant that Paul had a feeling he'd gotten for himself, then landed on the chocolate glazed donut that stood out among the other ordinary looking pastries. There were two of them, both chocolate with sprinkles peppered across the surface, sweets no doubt created to catch the idea of excited children.
Namely, two excited, poor little children who'd once upon a time saved up their nickles and dimes to afford such a decadent extravagance on their way to school.
Violet eyes flickered up to meet stormy ones as he fished out one of the two chocolate donuts, the saccharine smell already meeting his noise as it rose towards his mouth.
"You didn't have to do this, you know."
Still, he bit into the circle, tearing off the bread into his mouth and welcoming the sudden rush of sugar into his system. Desserts for breakfast were rare events - Paul couldn't remember the last time he'd had something like this after first waking up. Swallowing the bite, he set down the treat on top of the box and went for the coffee, another unnecessary expense, considering the fancy ********' coffee machine Noah had insisted they'd get once they moved into the new house.
"But thanks."
The tension was still lingering between the two of them and it stung him to know it was there. He was far too stubborn to crack at the sign of pastries and coffee -- though curiosity was quickly getting the better of him at what his spouse could mean at stuff being in his workout room.
"Sounds like you've been busy this morning." A sip of coffee and he hesitated, then turned on his bare heels and started making his way towards the basement door, presuming his spouse preferred him to venture down into his sanctuary to see what awaited him, before he left for work.
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Posted: Fri Nov 09, 2018 2:19 pm
Noah had a lot of responses resting on his tongue to Paul's dismissive quip but he held them there, knowing that if he said anything it wouldn't help the surly mood. Instead, he pressed his hip against the counter and chose to wait to see how his spouse would react to the nostalgic choices in pastries.
"I know," Noah replied quietly.
He didn't make a move for a pastry himself, but he did slide closer, one hand pulling free from his crossed arms to reach out. But Paul was already turning his back on him before he could grab the burly guy for a kiss -- or anything, really.
So his hand fell down to his side and he watched Paul head down the stairs. His mood sinking quickly, Noah was tempted to go <******** it and leave because he wasn't being appreciated.
Paul's thanks had felt like a slap to his cheek.
Still, it was his husband's birthday and he had set aside everything for him. So, with flaring nostrils when he tried to calm himself, Noah headed down the stairs.
"Been working on this for a while," he said, lingering at the base, with his shoulder pressed against a wall. "Wanted to make up for last year."
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Posted: Sat Nov 10, 2018 1:02 am
The coffee was black, warm and bitter as it slid down his throat on the way to the door. Knob was turned, door pushed open and his free hand flicked on the light at the top of the stairs before he starts making his way down, bare feet ignoring the cold of the concrete stairs.
He said nothing as he descended, unsure of what to expect when he made his way to the bottom. Paul's workout room was undoubtedly the plainest room in the house, walls bare, worn mats strewn across the floor with old weights and equipment littered throughout in no particular fashion.
It wasn't that he was disorganized; mismatched sets stacked poorly on top of one another and the two machines he'd managed to haul in from Goodwill were strategically placed in the two areas the mats were fraying and curling up the most.
That is… they had been.
Eyebrows drew together as his violet gaze surveyed the room. The very different room.
The worn out mats with their stains and faded colors were missing, replaced with sleek, dark mats that even carried the lingering scent of new plastic.
Matching sets of dumbbells were lined up on the side of the wall, perfectly lined up in three sets of rows on a brand new rack. None of them had scuffs or chips, all of them shiny, silver and practically sparkling new.
Cream of the crop sat a new weight machine, replacing the old one as it angled on the mat, allowing space for various other stretches and workout routines. While Paul couldn't tell a name brand from a knock off, it was clear from the design alone that it wasn't some cheap piece of s**t. This was top of the line crap, like, pricy crap.
While his jaw fell slack, he couldn't help but wander between all of the new accessories and grown up toys placed throughout the room. Eyes spoke the awe he was experiencing, even if the gruff man took literal minutes to respond.
Noah's words sank in. All of them.
Last year.
That shitty excuse of a day, one that had almost cost him the most precious thing in his world, a*****e that he was. It didn't matter how much they fought with one another - the ginger ******** brought the only joy to his otherwise shittyass world.
And he'd gone and spent a fortune on his worthless a**, especially when Paul had already cost them so much, in time and money.
“W...We can't afford this.”
There was panic to his voice, the tone low, scratchy and hoarse. Eyes darted around, longing for the beautiful new equipment but knowing it was excessive. It was too much.
“The budget. The bills. This wasn't…I can't set us back again. I've already caused enoug--”
His words were cut off by a low cuss as the cup in his hand collapsed in on itself. Squeezed too tightly by a clearly upset Paul Jones, the dark liquid clung to his fingers as the cup sailed to the ground, erupting in a small fountain of coffee, painting the side of his pants and the concrete below his feet. <******** class="quote">Nuxaz
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Posted: Mon Nov 12, 2018 11:34 am
Whatever reaction Noah had been anticipating, it was not the reaction that Paul was giving him. The panic in his voice was impossible to miss and the redhead stepped forward, pushing off the wall, to reach for his burly husband almost immediately.
His palm pressed against the small of his back for half a second before the coffee cup was destroyed and the steaming, hot liquid spilled all over Paul.
"Hey," his voice was low and quiet when he gently took the cup away and bent to set it on the floor. Noah coaxed Paul backward, one hand on his shoulder and the other reaching for his coffee covered hand.
That one was brought up, Noah's lips brushing the reddening skin. "We can-- could, it's all paid for," he assured his husband, fishing a handkerchief out of his pocket to dab at the coffee. "I promise, this isn't setting us back."
Lips pressed against finger tips before the hand was dropped as was the handkerchief. Instead, Noah's hands slid over Paul's shoulders to slide into hair and to press fingers against the nape of his neck.
"Can't I spoil my baby for his birthday?"
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Posted: Mon Nov 12, 2018 1:17 pm
It didn't take much effort to guide him away from the spill, bare feet barely missing the brown puddles of ruined birthday coffee his husband had gone out of his way to fetch for him. Slender fingers held on to his bare shoulder, steadying him as the older man wobbled for a moment.
The next thing he knew, stinging fingers were being tended to as the handkerchief absorbed any lingering drops. The burn stung but not unreasonably so; the scars that littered his chest and neck were proof enough that the older Jones had received more than his fair share of experiences when it came to pain.
He watched quietly as the redhead tenderly kissed the tips, the pressure of his mouth sending new jolts and stings throughout his hand as they brushed against the burns. The handkerchief was wrapped around his palm and left there, Noah's focus shifting to tend to the other concern, namely his distressed spouse.
Fingers found their way into his hair, the large man's eyes closing as he allowed himself to relax. Nails scraped his scalp while others rubbed at the tension burrowed at the base of his neck, almost enough to elicit a groan out of the grumpy a*****e.
A choked out apology appeared instead of a groan, however.
"I'm sorry."
Those two words were an umbrella for a range of regrets. For storming off, for starting the stupid rift between them after that dumb fight. For causing all of the turmoil that they'd suffered through, over the years. For failing to be the partner he knew he should be, that Noah deserved, time and time again.
But Paul Jones was a simple man, only capable of simple thoughts. Eloquent apologies and explanations had his tongue tied up, words jumbled in his head, unable to translate them into actual sentences. What he could do was express himself in other ways, which was why large hands reached out to roughly tug the younger man against him at that point.
The chill of the outside world clung to Noah's coat still, now pressed against the bare skin of Paul's naked torso. The dark haired man didn't care about the cold, holding him tightly as his face buried itself against the collar of the coat and his spouse's pale, flawless throat.
"I love you, ******** held him for a few minutes, just standing there amidst the new equipment that he didn't deserve, the coffee spill, the hands still clinging to the roots of his hair. While it was leagues better than his last birthday, he couldn't help but still feel like he'd managed to ******** things up, just a little bit.
But there was Noah, fixing things. Fixing his ********, like the yin to his yang or however that ********' symbol worked --- he was the other half, the part that made him whole.
Scratchy bristles around his mouth brushed the smooth skin as he pressed a needy, demanding kiss against the cool neck. He only pulled back after he made sure to leave a claiming mark, allowing him enough time between kisses to murmur, "Don't go in to work."
Pause.
"Please?"
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Posted: Mon Nov 12, 2018 2:06 pm
If there was a response in Noah's mouth, it was swallowed huff of air that escaped him when his husband engulfed him. The nose against his neck left him shivering, fingers closing around short dark locks to tug on them while Noah tried to keep himself from getting excited about this type of contact.
They hadn't been this close together in days and he could really feel the effects from it.
"I forgive you, baby," Noah assured him, head shifting so that he could press a kiss to his temple. "And I love you too a*****e." There was a half exasperated laugh that shifted into a quiet, pleased groan, as a mark was left on his throat.
When Paul pulled back, his pupils were dilated and his breathing heavy. "Why...Why would I go to work?" Noah asked, breathy and dazed, his whole body feeling like it was swaying before he shook his head and refocused. "It's your birthday idiot, you know I don't work when it's your birthday."
It was something he'd upheld ever since the incident. Birthdays, their anniversary, and the anniversary of mama's death were days Noah refused to work. It didn't matter how much money a job offered or how easy it was, neither of them worked.
"Besides," he whispered, placing his mouth by the burly man's ear, "I'm not dressed for work, I'm dressed for you." It was then that Noah drew his hands away, grabbing one of Paul's and sliding it beneath his coat so he could feel exactly what he meant. "You have one last present to unwrap."
The second he said it, he groaned at himself, the idea utterly cheesy and ridiculous and yet-- he had to finish. "Me."
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Posted: Mon Nov 12, 2018 3:26 pm
He was prepared to answer his lover's question with a sheepish response but words were caught in his throat as his hand was tugged and pushed inside of his spouse's long coat. Warm skin was the first thing he noticed, fingers then sliding down to feel...
"S-s**t."
The material, even under his burned fingertips, caused a different sort of tingle and jolt within the burly man. Whispered words against his ears had him at full attention as eyes stared, wide and bewildered while pupils quickly dilated in return.
"You went out in this?"
His nostrils flared, Paul's voice quickly growing husky. Wandering hand continued to explore, murmured "s**t" and "<******** dropping left and right. He was reduced to one word responses to the discovery and all of them were curse words.
Finally, he'd had enough. <******** it."
Reaching down, the larger man yanked his spouse up into his arms, giving the other man mere seconds before he was already working to ascend the stairs at a pace that would put his normal workout routine to shame. Lips found his throat and he let out a low noise that sounded like a strangled whine. A turn and then a few large strides and he was taking the stairs to the second level of the house, skipping every other step with the redhead in tow.
This was quickly turning into a much better birthday than last year's and Paul wasn't about to let another hour go to waste of it.
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