>> between y o u & m e --- [mickey]

[AVERY JUNNOSUKE KAEL]

There were times where Avery often wondered what he got himself into. They were all of his own accord, of course, but still. He didn’t think too much about his choices in the present time, but when it came down to him being alone and able to rethink it, Avery’s mind went haywire with his way of being over analytical. Like now, where a million things began to replay in his mind like an old film and every word spoken imprinted itself into the walls of his skull. “Fine, I’ll go to dinner with you.” It was just a harmless invitation, right? Of course Avery would accept, especially with how he and Mickey have grown closer to each other not again. They were never close to begin with, even back in their high school days when they played “superman saves the victim.” But no use in dwelling in the past—the present… was quite nice. It was a change in his life that shook him a bit; wondering whether or not if this friendship thing would work out, if Mickey would disappear again, knowing about the illness that the Wind tried to so desperately hide… the list went on. Avery still wasn’t used to the whole thing, but he managed fine when he was with Mickey. It was surprisingly easy being around him, despite their obvious differences—but you see, that seemed to be where the problem was. His over analytical skills kicked into overdrive and he just didn’t know how to deal with it anymore.

Avery stared blankly at his bedroom ceiling with his hand outstretched, a single finger tracing random shapes in midair. Distract yourself, distract yourself… Mickey was going to be here in a few moments. Just stick it out until then; the thoughts will be soon gone and they’ll have dinner and that was that. He constantly repeated that to himself, his gaze growing narrower as he pushed any thoughts other than food out of his mind. Don’t think, just… just…

Avery sighed, frustrated, and pushed himself up into sitting position. He glared at the opposite wall, wishing he could repeatedly beat his head against it to stop himself from over thinking. It was a bad habit that he needed to crush, but unfortunately no matter how many times he’s tried to, there has been no avail. Or maybe Avery just let it happen because it was just easier not fighting it. The reason for his burning need to smash his head in was because of his over thinking of a certain topic. Avery was never a big fan of the topic of… sigh. He couldn’t even think it straight without cringing at the thought of it. It was just so farfetched, out of reach, so unfamiliar. It put him off, but the very thought of it kept coming back like a boomerang. It was unavoidable, and the subject of the topic was coming in less than ten minutes. Just looking at the clock sent him into a panic and he hurriedly jumped off his bed to get changed. Unfortunately because of this, Avery’s clumsy nature got the best of him and he tripped several times on the way to his closet (which, by the way, is only a few feet from his bed). He sort of felt bad for the people who lived below him—they had to constantly hear Avery trip over himself. At least this sort of distracted him from further over analyzing the situation. They were friends, going to dinner. That was it. No need to think further than that. Avery would just set himself up for disappointment—but that was what the whole romantic thing was, right? Disappointment?

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Romantic thing?

Avery froze midway trying to button up his shirt. Uh, rewind. What did he just think? About Mickey? He swallowed to himself, hastily buttoning the rest of his shirt, pulling on a jacket before slamming his closet shut. No, no, no. This was exactly why he hated his mind sometimes. Taking a deep breath, Avery stepped out of his bedroom and headed towards the kitchen to get a glass of water. He needed to get his head screwed on straight, but all he could think about was their... uh, "contact." And how his lips burned after it. And, and...

Ding-dong.

Avery swallowed his water harshly, nearly spilling his glass of water onto himself. Well, fuck.

[MICHAELANGELO DONATELLO GRACE]

His mother called it a date the minute he mentioned he was going to dinner with the school nurse and that was why he wouldn’t be showing up for their Friday night movie. She didn’t immediately amend her response when he informed her that the nurse was actually male, and for some inexplicable reason asked to be called a nurse even though he was a doctor (or so the wind was relatively sure). She found this rather amusing, and told him to bring chocolate instead of flowers because chocolate was less romantic, and everybody liked chocolate anyway. What was originally supposed to be a simple explanation of absence had become a full-on discussion as he tried to convince her that no gift would be necessary at all because he intended to buy dinner and it definitely wasn’t a date. They were just friends. Just friends filling in a debt. At least he was—the debt for leaving him behind eleven years ago, the debt for having made such an inappropriate movement when they’d originally reunited in the medical wing almost a year ago. It was ridiculous how long it had taken Avery to call about the dinner, as he informed his mother, and she returned to her hypothesis about the romantic entanglement that might arise from it, to such a degree that he almost shouted into the phone to halt her. It wasn’t a date. They were just friends.

But even as he hung up the phone, after over half an hour of considerable discussion and frustration, even he was beginning to doubt it.

It was probably because he didn’t quite know how to interpret some of Avery’s behavior. Honestly, it had been the water who had initiated the dinner at all—after the unfortunate catch, he’d basically asked for it, and Michaelangelo had simply agreed, informing him to call whenever he wished it fulfilled. When they had run into each other, months ago at the ice cream parlor… the memory was so clear to him mostly because of what had happened. It hadn’t been a kiss, not really. Avery had just licked ice cream off the professor’s lips, and even if their mouths brushed, it hadn’t been a kiss. He hadn’t even told his mother that part. He couldn’t stop thinking about it as he dressed for the dinner, and he hadn’t even told his confidant (though he supposed that was more applicable to Lisa, but that detail didn’t matter because he hadn’t told her either). He didn’t know whom to tell, if anyone, and it bothered him almost as much as that not-really-a-kiss was. It was getting to be quite ridiculous, how preoccupied he was with it. He was an adult, for Christ’s sake. It was simpler than this and he shouldn’t be over-thinking it because everything fell apart when you did that.

He rubbed lightly at the side of his face as he stopped in front of the mirror. He knew he looked younger than most people his age, and that was probably a little odd. He was still asked for his ID when he tried to buy cigarettes, and he’d been old enough to purchase those for nearly as long as he’d been smoking. 8 years. Still shorter than he’d known Avery. No. Don’t go there. He ran his hand through his hair, not quite caring that it mussed it somewhat, thinking Avery could complain all he wanted because this professor wasn’t actually trying to impress him. So off again went the fancier clothes and into jeans a sweatshirt he slipped. No, that was too informal. God, he wasn’t even quite sure where they were going. What should he wear? Something casual, but still good enough to get into Northern Lights if Avery desperately wanted to go there. Yeah, that sounded okay. But what fit those criteria? What fit those criteria and actually hung in his closet? He groaned softly and finally decided for some simple slacks and a white button-down with appropriate shoes. What was good enough for his job ought to be good enough for whatever restaurant they went to that night, and good enough for Avery.

Because he wasn’t trying to impress Avery.

Why did he have to keep telling himself that?

The wind shook himself, glad for the chill outside as he walked to the address he’d written on a slip of paper and tucked into his jacket pocket. He checked it again as he walked, though he had the number memorized. It was more like insurance, he supposed. He shook his head. Why did Avery make him so… nervous? Jumpy? No adjective came to mind. He stopped to take a deep breath, and out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something through the window. His mom told him to bring a present. So why not this? He entered the building, listening to the tingling of the bell. Roughly five minutes later, he exited with a small box that had a bow around it and a air holes punched in the top. He found his way to the apartment, trying to hold the box evenly as he climbed the stairs, and rang the doorbell.

The moment that door opened, he pushed the box towards Avery, lifting the lid so he could see what was inside it. He held his breath, waiting for any reaction, hoping he hadn’t accidentally reached the wrong apartment. His eyes lifted to double-check the number on the now open door, and he caught the top of Avery’s head in his gaze, so he straightened and cleared his throat. “I saw this… and I thought you might like it,” he explained softly, a little embarrassed that he’d bothered, a little worried that Avery wouldn’t be allowed to have pets, not knowing whether Avery was allergic to these critters or if he even liked them. There were so many things in play, and Michaelangelo had relied solely on impulse with this purchase, and he was suffering buyer’s regret. His mom would say that he had a crush on Avery just from his reaction now. She would tease him about it mercilessly. He wouldn’t appreciate it, and he wouldn’t understand it, and he would hate Avery just a little bit for getting this reaction out of him even though he was really hoping that Avery wasn’t actually trying to do that. He shut up Braedon mentally before the voice even opened its metaphorical mouth.

[/font][/justify]

TAG ::

[/color] Virginie and Avery Kael~
WORD COUNT ::[/color] 1 082
OUTFIT ::[/color] black slacks, white button-down, mussed hair
SETTING ::[/color] Avery’s doorstep
NOTES ::[/color] in case you don’t remember, the contents of the box; and yay for 5 am posts <3[/blockquote][/blockquote][/font][/justify][/blockquote]

[AVERY JUNNOSUKE KAEL]

Avery froze, swallowing slowly as he carefully set down his cup as if it would shatter into sharp pieces if he made any sudden movements. He stayed in the kitchen for a few moments, going over options in his head just as he did when they first reunited in the medical wing. For one, he could climb out the window and escape, potentially breaking a few bones. Two, he could text Mickey and say something came up so he had to skip their dinner. And last, he could actually grow some balls and go answer the door. But as he stayed still, the first option suddenly seemed the most appealing. No. Avery was not going to escape from this. He didn’t even know why he was resisting the idea so much anyways—it was just dinner between two friends. That was it. There wasn’t a catch, no surprises, and he didn’t have to worry whether or not Mickey was actually a date rapist and Avery just happened to be one of his targets. That being said, the nurse had been watching way too many criminal shows for his own sanity.

The problem wasn’t Mickey, per se. They still got along, despite the major changes in their personalities, so it wasn’t like Avery was uncomfortable around the Wind. He was never uncomfortable, unless someone played a huge joke on him and locked him in a room with painfully shy people. There he would feel like dying, but it wasn’t like that with Mickey. The atmosphere was relaxing and thoroughly enjoyable, even though they had silence in between conversations. It was catching up with an old friend who really wasn’t a friend back then, but had significance in his life nonetheless. Eleven years was a long time to catch up on; hell, even after a year there were still unknown aspects of Mickey’s personality that he didn’t know about and he was sure it was the same for the Wind, not knowing enough about Avery. And strangely, Avery wished to keep it that way.

Okay, not strangely. He did that with everyone, making sure he kept a good amount of distance between them, no matter how close they were. Avery was ashamed of it but he was also more ashamed about his past, thus making sure to create bridges. He’d one day cross them on his own terms, but until then, he was comfortable with being observed from afar with a telescope. They’d see him, scratched onto the surface, but even after all that, they were still strangers. Seeing was a lot different from knowing, and though it was superficial, he’d say it brightly with his cheeky grin whenever anyone would ask—“At least I’m not hard to look at.” Any heavy subjects would disappear and Avery avoided questions, simple as that. He liked to think he was simply throwing off people, not manipulating. It was easier to sleep at night that way.

After a few moments with his hand hovering over the doorknob, he took a deep breath and turned it hastily, grinning as he saw the Wind. He was about to greet Mickey when he shoved a box in his face, peeking around it to look at him. “Um, well, hello to you, too,” he chuckled, though as he poked at the box he felt a little bad. If he knew Mickey was going to get him a gift, he would’ve gotten something for him, too. “You didn’t have to get me anything, I wasn’t—” He cut off his sentence when he finally looked down at the box’s contents. At first he thought it was just a bundle of cotton until he peered closer, a pair of eyes looking back at him. Realizing what it was, Avery’s eyes lit up instantly and he reached in, gingerly holding the furball in his arms. “Hey there, little fella~” he cooed, lifting him to his eye level before putting him back in his arms, grinning widely at Mickey. “I—why… he’s adorable!” he exclaimed, nuzzling the bunny against his face before setting the bunny down, engulfing Mickey into an excited hug. He was literally bouncing on his heels, the grin never leaving his face. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he exclaimed repeatedly, pulling back slightly to smile at Mickey, unaware how close they really were, before pressing his body against the Wind’s again, any anxiety and doubt he felt before he came left him immediately.

“He’s absolutely adorable! Where’d you get him? Why’d you get him? How much did he cost? Oh, no, you’re already buying me dinner, you should’ve told me!” Avery rambled on, craning back his neck to look at the Wind, though his arms were still wrapped securely around his neck. The distance between them really didn’t bother him, though, and he continued to ramble, hugging him once again. This time, quieter, he thanked him again, holding him tighter. “Thank you.” And ever so slightly, he placed a small kiss against his cheek as a gesture of affection. At least, Avery thought it was his cheek. It was his cheek, right? He peeked open an eye, suddenly growing flushed with red as he realized where his lips really were; they at least weren't directly on Mickey's. Just. In the corner. He jerked away instantly. Talk about a miscalculation. Maybe he should just keep his eyes open forever. That way he’d avoid freaking out people. “Oh, God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—I thought—”

Avery swallowed thickly, turning his head away from Mickey before heading back into the living room, pretending to be preoccupied with the bunny. Way to start the evening, Avery. They could laugh this off, right? They were friends. That was what friends did when they made mistakes. Though, as his lips burned and his stomach twisted in anticipation, he faintly wondered if “friends” did such things as make lip contact. Or kisses. Whichever one seemed appropriate. The first time, it was just… contact. This… well, it was more than just contact. On accident, of course. Either way, they made Avery’s lips feel as if he stuck them in a carbonate drink that never fell flat.

No. Friends weren’t supposed to feel like that. God, now he was even doubting that word.

[MICHAELANGELO DONATELLO GRACE]

Avery seemed to be in a much better mood than he’d been himself on the way over, if the chuckle was anything to go by. He ignored the initial refutation of the present, as it was immediately interrupted by what appeared to be excitement, which was basically the reaction he’d been going for. The hug, not so much. The arms wrapped around him without invitation. He froze where he was, the box and lid held at his sides as he waited for the water to back off. He nodded silently when Avery babbled thank you’s at him. It was a surprise. Of course he wasn’t about to tell the man. Besides, he’d only decided on it on the way over here. There hadn’t been anything to tell when Avery had finally gotten up the guts to call him.

Arms came around his neck but didn’t really pull him down, as the two were fortunately near the same height. He didn’t think the nurse was much shorter than him, at least. The next words of gratitude were quieter, and it somehow felt even more sincere. He put a hand on Avery’s back, patting him awkwardly. Okay, he was ready for this to be over now.

…

Mouth?

Mouth.

There wasn’t supposed to be a mouth there.

Should he honestly have been surprised, though, considering what Avery had been doing before? Should he honestly be surprised to get half a kiss from the man who’d been jumping up and down against him like that? No. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but he still sort of was.

He cleared his throat, staring at Avery for a long moment until the nurse jerked away from him and hastily apologized for the contact. He wasn’t sure what he’d thought, and he turned away too quickly for the professor to catch the rest of the sentence, if it was even completed. He’d thought what? He blinked at the nurse’s back, thoroughly confused. He wasn’t sure what to say. Surely there was something he was supposed to say. There had to be something. Anything that wouldn’t make him entirely dimwitted and shell-shocked, at least in appearance—because he was entirely both at the current moment.

“Well, I suppose you like the bunny,” he commented finally, running a hand through his hair as he followed, just as unsure what else he could be doing. It was pretty obvious that Avery liked the fluff-ball. He’d been very vocally thankful. And physically, what with the hugging and the bouncing. Was it normal for people to hut and bounce like that just in response to a gift? His mother and his sisters had never done such a thing. His father wasn’t even being considered for such odd behavior. His father wasn’t as strange as the female half of their family. Lisa was actually unhappy that her name was relatively normal. He’s switch birth order with he if he could, hoping that he would have ended up with something shorter and less head-bang-worthy. He shook his head at himself. He needed to pay more attention. “Or is it a rabbit? I can’t tell the difference.” He was pretty sure there was one, though.

The professor shrugged and sat down on the couch, ignoring the fact that he hadn’t been invited to do so, assuming it was mostly because Avery was still shocked about whatever it was that he was thinking about because he couldn’t possibly be shocked regarding the sort-of kiss. The sort-of kiss that was oddly close to what Avery had done so long ago when they’d gone out for ice cream. More like run into each other while having it, but that was irrelevant. Avery had licked his mouth. It hadn’t been for the same purpose as a kiss, no, but he doubted this had been either, and that was where the trouble came in. Either, Avery was just terrible at the whole social conventions thing (not that he himself was terrible better), or Avery was trying to send him signals that he wasn’t understanding.

Clearing his throat, he stood again, tucking his hands into his pockets and looking around curiously before he let his gaze fall back on the nurse in front of him. “So… where are we going?” he wondered aloud, facing him, hoping that an answer would prevent them from dwelling on the previous occurrence. The spot Avery’s lips had brushed was still tingling a little. That couldn’t possibly be normal. Maybe his hormones were just reacting because he hadn’t had a romantic entanglement with anyone in… eleven years. He grasped the cigarettes in his pocket tightly, wanting a smoke, remembering the look Avery gave him whenever he lit up around the nurse. He knew it was bad for his health, but… they helped. Sort of.

[/font][/justify]

[ TAG ]

[/color] [ virginie and avery kael~ ]
[ WORD COUNT ][/color] [ 8 0 4 ]
[ OUTFIT ][/color] [ black slacks, white button-down, mussed hair ]
[ SETTING ][/color] [ avery’s living room ]
[ NOTES ][/color] [ sorry tis a bit shorter >< he can’t wait to try again hope you like <3 ][/blockquote][/blockquote][/font][/justify][/blockquote]

[AVERY JUNNOSUKE KAEL]

If Avery had normal common sense, he would’ve let go of Mickey a long time ago. Or rather not show any signs of affection towards him, considering the way his body felt stiff and uncomfortable against his. But alas, he didn’t have “normal common sense,” and being the awkward turtle he was, he continued to hold onto the poor Wind. Avery liked the close proximity between them actually; it was something he hadn’t experienced very well with Mickey, considering how much he seemed to hate it and the nurse would like to stay on his good side, thank you very much. And he was warm, in a comforting away. It was nice, despite the fact that Avery was oblivious to the seeping awkwardness. Was it awkward? The hand that patted his back was awkward. He wasn’t.

Well, maybe a little.

If he had said he didn’t mean to, that it wasn’t intentional, he had a feeling the people he told the story to wouldn’t believe. Why? For the sole fact that Avery was… Avery. Avery did shit like that. He had enough affection for anyone that would accept it—okay, that was a lie. He had enough for everyone; doesn’t matter if they accepted it or not. He just did it. It was in his human nature. There was no helping it, but he wished he did. Avery wished so much, especially in situations like these. He didn’t detect awkwardness very well, but when he did, he didn’t deal well with it whether or not he caused it. It probably didn’t help that Mickey wasn’t much of a talker, and the long silence that followed was agonizingly painful for Avery. He shut his eyes closed, his hands absentmindedly petting the soft fur of the bunny (which, by the way, he still needed to name), and waited. And waited. And breathed a sigh of relief when the Wind spoke. Avery let out a small laugh and he relaxed again, holding the bunny in his arms as he turned around to face Mickey again, the slight flush on his cheeks still apparent. “I do. A lot.” He grinned at him. “Next time it’s my turn!” His turn to buy Mickey something. Avery felt spoiled, so it would be paying him back. He was getting dinner and he just got a new pet, after all.

Avery’s eyes followed the Wind as he made his way over to the couch. He hesitated for a moment before sitting down at the opposite end of the couch, watching him. There were times where the nurse was dying to know what Mickey was thinking about and this just so happened to be one of the times. He wasn’t very vocal, his facial expressions rarely ever told him anything, and even if Avery did ask what he was thinking, he was sure that all he’d get was a shrug. Mickey was frustrating. He wasn’t someone Avery could read and that just made it all the more frustrating. And so he huffed, turning his body towards the Wind, and asked. “… well?” he asked expectedly, though he didn’t really know what to expect. He just… he needed. They kissed. Sort of. Twice. And both times, Mickey didn’t say anything. Didn’t give a hint, nothing. Did he feel anything? Avery did. Was it something… he wanted? God, Avery felt like bashing his head in. He just wanted something, and hopefully Mickey was able to give him that.

He watched, slightly startled, when Mickey stood up. Avery panicked inside. Was he leaving? God, he was an idiot. He shouldn’t have done that. He should’ve been thinking. He should’ve—oh. Right. Dinner. Place. Still needed to decide. “Oh, um.” He shifted slightly in his seat before jumping up, trying his hardest to push past the awkwardness and grinned at him, linking his arm with Mickey’s. “Huh? Isn’t it the person who asks the other out for dinner supposed to have it all planned out?” There we go. Nice and easy. And a little flirty. But only because Avery was usually like this. He tugged on his arm lightly before dropping it completely, heading to the coat rack beside the door to get his jacket. “I like surprises,” he admitted, heading back to hold his bunny. He didn’t want to leave the little fur ball in the tiny box again, but he also didn’t want to leave it outside. Shuffling around a bit to find a container, he continued to talk. “I mean, I’m not a picky person.” Nope. A plastic container wouldn’t do. “I do like Italian food though…” Definitely not a trash bin. “But don’t spend too much money, I’ll feel spoiled.” Aha! A plastic basket. This will do. Avery shuffled through his cabinets, retrieving a small bowl to fill up with water. Hmm. On the way home, he’d have to stop by the pet store. Hopefully Mickey didn’t mind. He set down the basket and water bowl, gently placing the bunny into his makeshift cage. “This will do!” Avery turned around to grin at Mickey. “Let’s go?” Because staying here any longer would just be torture.

[MICHAELANGELO DONATELLO GRACE]

His turn to what? Avery was jumping among topics faster than Michaelangelo was able to follow, in part because he wasn’t even sure what the topics were. Were thy talking about a pet? Was it Avery’s turn to get him a pet? He didn’t want a pet. He was happy living alone without anybody butting into his business, and that included dogs, cats, rabbits, bunnies, hamsters, guinea pigs, goldfish, and whatever else there was. Well, he might be okay with a goldfish. At least they didn’t much attention. If only they weren’t so creepy. He had nothing in particular against fish, but there was just something about goldfish that made him glad he’d never had one as a kid. He didn’t want one now either. What other turn could there be anyway? To take him out to dinner, maybe. To buy him an ice cream, maybe, though he also figured he’d deserved that one. He had no clue. He wasn’t aware this was supposed to be the sort of thing where there even was a “next time.” Especially with the almost-kissing and such. He cleared his throat.

That was probably why Avery was asking that damnably vague question now. He didn’t know how to answer. He didn’t know what to say or how to say that nothingness. He stared at the other instead, from his spot on the couch, and wondered what exactly was going on. He was so confused. So endlessly confused. Things just weren’t making sense to him. So, the only thing left for him to say was to ask, “Well… what?” and let all his befuddlement be obvious in his expression and in his tone. There was nothing else that he could speak of. He didn’t know how to answer Avery’s question. He didn’t know if he even knew that was exactly what he was talking about. He didn’t know anything, and it was just so incredibly frustrating, not knowing. He hated the confusion and fear that went along with it. He didn’t know, and he was tired of not knowing. There had to be some sort of solution. Maybe the problem was just a lack of communication. That was entirely possible, but… he didn’t know what more there was to communicate. He was just lost.

Just as Avery seemed to be in regards to the choice of location. He lifted an eyebrow as the nurse tried to push the choice on him, and waited for Avery to meet him at the door before he spoke. It was entertaining, watching him fiddle about with the various containers, probably trying to decide exactly what would fit where and how the rabbit would do in any of them. It was almost entirely distracting from what Avery was saying, so much so that he had to hear his eyes to the critter in his hands rather than paying attention to it so he could pay attention to the words instead and even his thoughts were getting muddled up. It was ridiculous. He ran a hand through his hair, resting his shoulder against the wall as Avery approached.

Perfect timing.

He leaned in until their eyes met, noses nearly brushing. He remembered when they had been this close in the hospital wing, and at the ice cream parlor. It just kept happening, whether on purpose or not. This time it was on purpose. He could feel Avery’s breath on his lips. “The thing is, the dinner wasn’t my idea. You asked me.” After the unfortunate grope, perhaps, and it hadn’t been so much an actual request as a joke if he understood even the slightest bit about social customs and such. He smiled at Avery. “So pick an Italian place, if you like Italian food. I’ll voice it if I can’t stand it.” He suddenly felt incredibly innocent, but didn’t think it was nearly as bad as if he had done something else. After all, they were just standing there, staring at each other, talking about what they were going to have for dinner. It was all simplicity. Except not at all.

[/font][/justify]

[ TAG ]

[/color] [ virginie and avery kael~ ]
[ WORD COUNT ][/color] [ 6 82 ]
[ OUTFIT ][/color] [ black slacks, white button-down, mussed hair ]
[ SETTING ][/color] [ avery’s living room ]
[ NOTES ][/color] [ gah this took forever to get out Dx I’m sorry D8][/blockquote][/blockquote][/font][/justify][/blockquote]

[AVERY JUNNOSUKE KAEL]

Would it kill Mickey to speak more? Avery felt like he was suffocating when he didn’t talk and there he was, staring back at the nurse as if he didn’t need to respond. That was slightly irritating, but mostly frustrating. Mostly because Avery usually found the words to speak when the other wouldn’t—what was so different now? He was normally such a chatterbox that people often had to tell him to be quiet, and most times they weren’t polite. But maybe that was because he dealt with hormonal teenagers on a daily basis. Not quiet, stoic professors like Mickey. This was probably another flaw to Avery’s personality (and trust him, he had a lot)—stoic people. Normally he couldn’t stand awkward people, but perhaps he could group the two together. Stoic people = awkward people. It was the same notion. They both elicit the same reaction from Avery, just in different ways. Or maybe it was just Mickey in general that made him nervous.

It took everything in Avery’s power not to let out an exasperated sigh. There was a small huff that escaped his lips though, and he turned his head away. Really? Sure it was a vague question, but most people would’ve thought of something to say, even if it wasn’t relevant to their conversation or situation. Avery liked to believe that Mickey wasn’t doing this on purpose, but the growing frustration made him feel slightly angry at the Wind, and he didn’t know why. “You… honestly… nevermind. Just thought you had something to say.” Avery crossed his arms at his chest, no longer looking at Mickey. The kiss wasn’t intentional but faintly he wondered what would’ve happened if it was. Would the situation still be the same with Mickey brushing it off? Changing the subject when he had the chance? Not even giving it another thought?

… ouch. That hurt.

Perhaps Avery was expecting too much, even if he had no real expectations in the first place. He thought maybe Mickey’s lips burned too, or maybe he was also confused, or if he… Avery’s thoughts trailed off as he glanced at the professor again, chewing on his lip. Should he ask directly? Or beat around the bush for a while until Mickey actually got it through his head? But being the person he was, the nurse never really thought things through. Maybe that’s why he found himself blurting out, “The kiss.” Okay, maybe what the two did didn’t really qualify as a kiss, more like their lips pressing against each other out of accidental actions. Both caused by Avery himself, but… it was something. Better than the silence Mickey was giving him. And as long as he said it, he might as well continue, o matter how much he wanted the couch to swallow him whole right at that instant. He had no way of telling what Mickey thought of him. As a friend, and just… a person in general. “It… that… did you… feel… anything?” Somehow that didn’t sound like a comprehensible question. Avery made pauses in between just to gauge the professor’s reaction, but clearly that was impossible.

And as always, Mickey just knew how to make his breath cut off at his throat.

As Avery was making his way towards him, he began fiddling with the cuff of his jacket, trying to button them up though his fingers always slipped, making it near impossible to even get the button though the opening. Huffing, he reached out his arm, about ready to ask Mickey for assistance, until his eyes met his and his voice got caught in his throat. What was he about to ask? Why was his arm extended? Slowly, he dropped his arm, unable to tear his eyes from Mickey’s. God, he was close. Why did this always happen? Avery couldn’t even focus on what the Wind was saying—all he could feel was the warmth of Mickey’s breath on his lips and the previous burning feeling that somehow grew intense as he shifted slightly, their noses brushing and goodness, Avery just wanted to reach out and…

He kissed him. Straight on. His lips felt like they were on fire but he didn’t pull away; instead, he pulled Mickey closer by the collar of his shirt, half aware of what he was doing and half yelling at himself to stop. But he didn’t. He didn't want to. And so he pressed close, the feel of Mickey’s lips on his soft and amazing and hoped that he didn’t get socked in the face, because now, after holding back for so many times, Avery was finally able to let go.

[MICHAELANGELO DONATELLO GRACE]

What did Avery want him to say?

What could he say? What would make sense?

Sure, he could make a few incomprehensible sounds, grunt like a caveman, sigh as if he happened to be frustrated or pretty much anything—but if Avery wanted him to make sense, he had a few minutes of silence before he could figure that out. Maybe an hour. Maybe it would take him all of dinner to figure out the right thing to say. Maybe there was absolutely no right thing for him to say at all.

He wished they could just talk about something else.

Anything else would better than what he was pretty sure Avery was referring to now. That… the half-kiss. When Avery’s mouth had come entirely too close to his own and he couldn’t breathe for a minute because he couldn’t remember how to think and he didn’t know what to do. If Avery didn’t know what to do—Avery who surely had more experience with kissing of any sort than he could hope to have—then how could he expect Michaelangelo to know what to do now? How could someone who had done no more than a rare, innocent kiss over eleven years ago have any clue what he was supposed to be doing now? It was a ridiculous expectation. He didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t an avid reader of romantic fiction. The only reading he’d done recently was law-related or in the newspaper. The newspaper didn’t give dating advice. Jesus Christ, why was he supposed to say something? He had nothing to say. He couldn’t fathom what he could possibly say and Avery was still waiting.

Braedon laughed gleefully in his head, enjoying the confusion and the frustration in the the attached body. The bodiless voice was as irritating as the constant clicking of a woman’s shoe heel on kitchen tile. God, why couldn’t they just shut up? He opened and tightened his fist, trying to relax himself through the rhythmic clenching movement, as if the grasp and release of the muscles would somehow relieve the stress that was starting to give him a headache he didn’t deserve.

Why was this so difficult?

This shouldn’t be difficult.

They were just supposed to be friends. Friends. Friends didn’t share those odd little half-kisses and then expect to say something that made sense when the brain couldn’t even think of something that did.

Avery finally came out and said it, nice and blunt, voicing what they were both thinking. The kiss. This whole goddamn silence and awkwardness was about the kiss. And it wasn’t really a kiss. It was barely half of one. Why did half a kiss matter so much? He could imagine what that truth was, and he could imagine why they were both hesitating on saying it. He was hesitating even to think it. Of course, he knew what the possibility was, but to even try to put it into mental words was going to be troublesome. Just to think it. Yeah, it was definitely not worth the trouble.

He took a deep breath. “Feel… anything…” He repeated after a moment, barely making sense of the words even as his tongue and lips formed them. Right. Feel anything. Did he feel anything? Shock. Surprise. Confusion. Helplessness—because he didn’t know in that moment just as he didn’t know now what to do. “Like what?” he asked instead, knowing that Avery had something particular in mind but wanting him to say it.

Getting that close had been a mistake, as he well knew the minute Avery looked back at him. The breath stopped in his chest, his lungs half-filled with air. He hadn’t even noticed the hand, the outstretched arm waiting for assistance of some sort. He only noticed it now, as it was dropping down, but his eyes flicked back toward Avery’s, sucked in like there were two black holes in Avery’s face. He licked his lips briefly, forgetting completely what he’d been saying, only that he was waiting for Avery to answer some sort of question. He had so many questions.

They fled his mind the minute Avery tugged himself closer and kissed him. He kissed back, hand curving around his cheek even if he didn’t know what he was doing. There was something smooth about this, something that felt entirely new. He felt warm, too, but pleasantly so as he wrapped his other arm around Avery’s waist. Breathing was difficult. After a few moments, released the nurse, his lips pressed together, top to bottom, breathing entirely through his nose and watching the face in front of his with a sense of suspense, as if he was getting back a graded test and hesitant on whether he’d passed or not. He’d always been a good student, but this wasn’t exactly academic. This was what distracted students from doing well academically.

“Well?”

Oh, the irony.

[/font][/justify]

[ TAG ]

[/color] [ virginie and avery kael~ ]
[ WORD COUNT ][/color] [ 8 2 3 ]
[ OUTFIT ][/color] [ black slacks, white button-down, mussed hair ]
[ SETTING ][/color] [ avery’s living room ]
[ NOTES ][/color] [ they’ll hopefully figure this out eventually ][/blockquote][/blockquote][/font][/justify][/blockquote]

[AVERY JUNNOSUKE KAEL]

The silence was killing him. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked. He should’ve kept quiet and went to their dinner as planned. As friends. Because that was what they were supposed to be; not some tangled up web of complication. Friends didn’t have wavering feelings for each other, and they certainly do not have the little “kisses” like they’ve shared. Friends, friends, friends. That’s all they were. And probably would be, considering. Avery never knew what Mickey was thinking, and even if the Wind returned his… “feelings,” could he even grow a pair and make it evident? Probably not, but he hoped.

So why was Avery expecting an answer? Maybe he was being self-centered. Maybe he figured Mickey felt something, too, and the nurse just wanted to confirm he wasn’t going crazy. And maybe he expected an answer of something more—something he hadn’t had in a long time. Settling down wasn’t one of Avery’s priorities, after all. That meant taking on someone else’s life when he was barely sure of his own. He never was. Avery had a stable job, a home, and a steady income. Life was good—but he had to admit, there were times where coming home to an empty apartment was disheartening. He always thought that perhaps getting a pet would solve that problem, but obviously the right side of the bed was a bit too spacious for one pet to fill.

Avery watched as Mickey took a deep breath, anticipation building in his throat as he waited—only to be met with, surprisingly, disappointment. What was he supposed to say to that? How the hell was he supposed to know what Mickey was thinking? And so the nurse stayed silent with a loss of words. He expected too much. Maybe that’s why the stinging sensation that reached his chest caught him off guard. “Like what?” he repeated incredulously, hands clasped at his side as he stared at the Wind professor. And it was at that point where Avery decided to stop talking again, suddenly taking interest in the couch pillow on his lap and its tassels that hung off at the seams. If Mickey didn’t have anything to say to it, then it was simple; Avery didn’t either. The Wind’s answer was just plain frustrating.

Avery could feel the warmth of a hand creeping to his cheek and resting there; the warmth spreading into his flushed cheeks as Mickey drew him closer to himself, their bodies and lips pressing against each other. And all too soon, the older man pulled away, the sudden lost breath rushing through him and Avery stared up at him, he himself rather breathless. God, it’s been a long time since he felt like this—if he ever felt like this. Still gripping his collar, he shyly looked back at Mickey, the silence fitting for the situation. That is, until the professor spoke again with the damned vague question Avery had asked him just a few moment’s ago, and he laughed; the kind where his head lowered, the gaze deviating just a second from the other’s, and the huge grin on his lips as he looked back up again. “Well~” he started, using the same tone Mickey used before. How could Avery answer this in the best way possible without being terribly frustrating like the Wind? The nurse paused for a moment to think, absentmindedly playing with the fabric of his collar between his fingers, until he looked back at him once more, a smile on his face, before he pressed his lips once more on the man before him.

Yup. Now that just said it all, didn’t it?

He pulled back a minute later, his hands now entangled in the professor’s dark locks, and grinned cheekily at him. “Is that a good enough answer?” Avery asked innocently, tilting his head as he stared at the man at close proximity. It was a damn well good answer to him and if he didn't like it–well.

He'd do it again for as many times he needed to.

[MICHAELANGELO DONATELLO GRACE]

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SHATTERED PIECES REFLECT BACK ON US

A MIRROR OF OUR SINS, WE A DORIAN GRAY

If someone asked him to describe Avery’s personality, he would have been stumped, caught completely off-guard. He didn’t understand how quickly Avery seemed to switch facets of his personality. There was the solemn side to him he tried so hard to hide when it popped up. There was the cheerful side that reminded him of a child sometimes, young and innocent, though part of him knew there was no way that Avery was innocent. That was supported mostly by the last side: the flirty side that he didn’t understand either, the one that made him nervous and excited him at the same time. He didn’t even understand that one. He didn’t understand Avery.

That wasn’t the only thing running through his head, of course. There were other things that confused him about this situation.

There was, of course, the idea that Avery was a man, though not necessarily very manly. They were both men. He’d never considered himself oriented in any single direction, but it was still something to think about. He was kissing a man and he was trying to make sense of this in his head. It hadn’t really been something he expected. It was something he needed to understand. The problem was just that he didn’t and dear god he didn’t really want to. It was like the idea that if he finally understood, this whole situation would be ruined. It didn’t have to be like that. They didn’t have to ruin this.

Somehow, magically, that made everything okay. He stopped complaining in his head and focused on the face in front of his, so very close, because they had just barely been doing something he hadn’t done in years. And it felt fantastic.

He just wasn’t about to tell his mother that she was probably right, that this was turning out to be a date after all.

The flirtatious tone shouldn’t have caught him off-guard, but it did. He lifted an eyebrow at the nurse, wondering what the rest of the response would. Again, what came was unexpected, but he received it graciously and returned it eagerly, forgetting for a moment he had no clue how to do this. He pulled Avery closer again, fingers brushing the fabric of the shirt at his sides. He didn’t care of there were wrinkles. They weren’t in an overly obvious place. If Avery bothered him about it, maybe he could try to distract him with something much more interesting. Like this.

Avery pulled back, but he could still feel hands in his hair. It wasn’t unpleasant. Quite the opposite in fact. “It is,” he allowed softly, watching him. His eyes scanned his face, trying to understand the character in front of him and failing on an ultimate level. He realized too late that saying no would have gotten him another kiss. He frowned at himself a little, wishing he’d said no instead. Maybe it was just because this feeling was so new, because he hadn’t kissed anyone in over eleven years. He hadn’t really been a slut back in high school. He’d been social, sure, but he’d never really been crazy on the relationship front. That was why he was so unfamiliar with this situation. He wasn’t an idiot, of course, he was just… socially inept. The nurse appeared to be, too, but on a different level. Michaelangelo didn’t give enough, but Avery gave a little too much. Or what else was he supposed to call all the invasion of personal space that Avery was so fond of? He didn’t know.

He didn’t know anything right now, which led him to another question that he hoped would be less provocative. He hadn’t really been trying to get a kiss out of the nurse. This wasn’t supposed to be a date originally. This was just supposed to be friends having dinner. They hadn’t even decided what they would ave for dinner, though. And that incited his question, “Does this mean we aren’t going out to dinner?” He wasn’t a fantastic cook. He wasn’t very fond of it either. That was why he would prefer going out—unless Avery wanted to make them dinner. Or maybe it was time for him to leave and they would just reschedule.

[/style]

THE ILLUSION CAN'T LAST FOREVER

HIDE YOUR FACE BEFORE IT TURNS TO ASHES

[AVERY JUNNOSUKE KAEL]

Avery’s breath hitched at his throat as he felt the older man tug him closer again—the warmth, his fingers clutching at the sides of his shirt, and the feel of his lips against his own made him shiver. Goodness, Avery was sure he hadn’t felt like this in a long time—if he had ever, of course. Anything involving romance was a no-go to the nurse, although it seemed as if he succeeded in the lust department, though he quit that route a long time ago.

Point was—romance. No.

Romance and love came hand-in-hand with Avery. He’d never fallen in love before, despite the many relationships both before and after he became clean, and he’s never experienced romance either nor the seriousness of a relationship. Unless the one during medical school counted—for all he knew, if he put in 100% into their relationship, they might’ve been married by now—but that was during the time where Avery was still exploring his life’s path and choices. He was still settling down with himself; he could barely do that with another person. He had no time to take anything serious other than his studies.

But now here Avery was. Settled with his life. A steady job as well as steady income. He had a life he was happy with. And here Mickey was. A man he was embracing, lips pressed against the other’s, and the feeling of both anxiety and excitement by just standing there, being close to each other. Could he even imagine a serious life with Mickey? No. This was too early to tell. Hell, for all Avery knew the kisses were just an impulse; a reflex, one might say. It was just natural to kiss someone back and not feel anything. But Avery knew he did. The burning of his lips was proof of that and he smiled into the kiss, pulling back a moment later to look at the man before him, his breathing becoming a bit heavier as his fingers gently caressed the sides of his face. He smiled slightly as Mickey spoke, running a finger along his cheekbone. “Good.” His smiled widened, then looked down at their tangled bodies and hands and blushed slightly. Avery stepped back, somewhat reluctantly letting go of the man before him, and adjusted his clothes as he cleared his throat. Smoothing out a few wrinkles, he looked up at Mickey again, chewing on his bottom lip.

“Well… we can stay here, if you want,” Avery said slowly, watching the professor carefully. “I… I can cook. I mean. If that’s okay with you.” Yeesh. He was rarely ever this vigilant with his words—it was a whole new feeling, looking at Mickey now. The nurse wasn’t nervous per se, but there was a feeling in his stomach that made him feel like he should be more careful. Slow. Taking his time to think, because things like this were too wonderful to pass by fleetingly. Finally connecting his brain to his body, Avery moved into the kitchen, shuffling around in the refrigerator, though he was unsure of what he was looking for. He just wanted to keep his hands and thoughts busy, because he knew if he stayed near Mickey they wouldn’t be able to have dinner anytime soon. Avery glanced over his shoulder, speaking again. “… is there anything in particular you’d like?” he asked, offering his cheeky grin. “Other than me~”