Jefferson (missinggrace) wrote in blackpoint, @ 2014-06-22 20:20:00 |
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Entry tags: | captain hook, mad hatter |
Who: Jefferson & Killian Jones
When: Friday, June 20, 2014
Where: Arch Cape Inn & Retreat in Cannon Beach, Oregon
What: Killian’s plan to propose during a romantic getaway doesn’t go as smoothly as he planned.
Rating: PG-13? They’re touchy-feely but it’s pretty tame.
The three-day weekend was intended to be a relaxing, stress-free enjoyable vacation involving enough sex that the other occupants of the B&B would complain about the noise. Killian had purposely found them a place near a dozen wineries and culinary treats, a far more high-class place (and more expensive) than their own, and nicer than any hotel could manage. But so far all that had been managed was the airline losing a piece of their luggage (with only the half-arsed promise they’d get it delivered eventually), after having delayed their fight for a good three hours due to a new pilot needing to be located. If that wasn’t enough, their rental car got a flat, when their directions steered them on the wrong course and took them an hour out of the way. All in all, they didn’t check in at the place until eight hours after the intended time, and were bloody lucky their room hadn’t been given up to the moon-eyed honeymooning couple that had given them dirty looks when they’d shown up at the late hours of the evening, only one luggage in hand. But still, they were there, even with a Killian that was getting more and more despaired at the fact that his romantic getaway was slowly slipping through his fingers. When he finally got their door unlocked, he dropped the luggage with an agitated grumble. “‘Least the room is nice.” The lost luggage had been enough to make Jefferson sigh. The three hour wait had turned that sigh into grumbling irritation. But by the time they were changing a tire on the side of the road, Jefferson's morbid sense of humor had started to kick in. Which is why Killian's grumpy observation resulted in a round of quiet, and slightly hysterical, laughter instead of frustrated muttering. Shutting the door with a shoulder, Jefferson collapsed against it and let the wheezing fit die down at its own pace. "I'm sorry, I just..." Jefferson shook his head and tugged off his scarf, a lopsided smile still tugging at his mouth. "I think I'm little delirious. Two bags of airline pretzels and a gas station hot dog really weren't enough to fuel this disaster of a day." Killian took his time turning to face Jefferson, eyebrow quirked expectedly. It was on the tip of his tongue to make a mad joke, but he kept it at bay out of the fact that he knew it would likely come out as a grumble, rather than his normal harmless jokes. Instead, he sighed and moved forward to bat Jefferson’s hands out of the way so he could remove the scarf that had been irking him all bloody day. Under his breath, he grumbled something about hating the damn things, even if he understood their purpose. “We can order room service for the next hour from the kitchens, according to the lovely lady at the desk.” Pulling on the end of the scarf, he slipped it from Jefferson’s neck and dropped it to the floor. “I think I’d rather feed you than risk you causing me embarrassment by laughing at the wrong thing, Hatter.” "God forbid I embarrass you," Jefferson smirked. Killian's irritation strangely kept him entertained, pushing back any of his standard grumpiness when things didn't go well. But, it also softened his expression, for Killian's sake, and because it occurred to him that this vacation could be one problem after another and he'd still be happy to have Killian all to himself. Jefferson just had to soothe his mood first, and wasn't that a nice change of pace. Lifted a hand to brush his knuckles along Killian's jaw, Jefferson leaned in to kiss a short path from the pirate's ear to his mouth. "That said, I like this feeding idea. Maybe while we wait, I can massage some of this day out of you. You've got enough tension for the both us right now, you know." It was obvious Killian wasn’t enjoying this shift in personalities. He wasn’t the cranky one, Jefferson was, and it was something he could appreciate about their relationship. It was static, he was always cracking jokes and flirting shamelessly, but this weekend was supposed to be something more than just a regular getaway, and if their start continued throughout the entire weekend, he was already thinking of giving up. Jefferson’s touch did well to soothe him, though, and Killian let out a long breath, leaning into his hand. “Might be the first thing I’ve enjoyed on this trip thus far.” For the first time in hours, he managed a lecherous gaze at his companion. “You, massaging me? Are you sure we can’t just skip the food, love?” "Hm, I don't know, Killian. You just implied my company hasn't been enjoyable as of yet," Jefferson countered, eyebrows lifted tauntingly. The mock-judging look was brief, wiped away by a slow smile and Jefferson's hands cradling Killian's face. "No, but seriously..." he added on a half-laugh, "...if I don't eat something soon, the only thing I'll be doing is passing out. Order us something while I wash some of this tire-changing grime off my hands." Not leaving room for a refusal, Jefferson snagged a quick kiss and moved around Killian towards the bathroom, shrugging out of his vest as he moved. "But keep that look in your eyes if you can manage it. It's much better than the cranky one." Killian was still grumbling even as Jefferson walked away, and the parting comment had him giving Jefferson a smack on the arse with his prosthetic hand before moving over to the phone. He didn’t bother defending himself, knowing that the taunt was just that, a joking taunt. He was distracted as he lifted up the phone, watching Jefferson strip out of the vest, but once he moved onto his task, he was tripped up with the offer of a bottle of champagne. The cliche of adding the ring into a glass of sparkling liquid, Killian’s eyes narrowed as he glanced over at the luggage,. Quickly, he finished the order and hung the phone up, making sure the call was completely disconnected before he started swearing quietly. Of course, as was his luck this weekend, he’d hidden the ring he brought along in the luggage for safe keeping. Only for it to be the luggage that was currently missing. He glanced up at the bathroom before zipping open the luggage and shifting things around just in case, before finally giving up and dropping his head down with another swear on his lips. “This isn’t bloody happening.” Jefferson rolled up his sleeves and took his time ridding himself of the unseen dirt that comes with traveling as well as the very visible smudges on his hands and forearms. He was a little less amused by the black mark at his temple, where he'd undoubtedly pressed his fingertips to ward off a headache after the side of the road incident, but that too was gone easily enough. By the time he turned back to rejoin Killian, he felt refreshed, and the slight dampness his fingers left in his hair as he raked them through was oddly relaxing as well. "What isn't bloody happening?" he teased, coming up behind Killian to massage one-handedly at the back of his neck. "More bad news or are you still struggling to get over the nonsense we've dealt with so far?" Sliding his hand up into Killian's hair, Jefferson tugged lightly to encourage the man to look at him. "Because really, it's not that bad, pirate. We're here. And bound to be fed and naked before long, if I have my way," he added with a small crooked smile. Killian visibly relaxed when Jefferson touched his head, and he turned to face the other man easily. There was still an annoyed look on his face, but it was far from directed toward his lover. "It's just..." he swept a hand out, over the luggage and the room. "Bloody hell." He shifted slightly, but stayed on his knees. Painfully aware of exactly what kind of position this put him in - and other better circumstances it would be far more enjoyable - Killian steadied his gaze up at Jefferson. It wasn't often he spoke softly, but now his voice took on a decidedly quiet tone. "I hid a ring in the missing luggage. This weekend wasn't just for relaxation, Hatter." Under normal circumstances, Jefferson was quick to react, sharp-minded and often with a sarcastic retort at easy reach. But in this case, it took a moment for the information to sink in. His eyes widened first and his mouth fell open slightly as he glanced at the luggage. Finally, he huffed a tiny, overwhelmed laugh that was more surprise than actual amusement. “Well…that explains your mood,” he mused, just as quietly as Killian’s confession. There was still a hint of a smile on his mouth, but it was tempered by the wave of emotions battling their way through his chest. Lowering himself to a crouch, Jefferson lifted his eyebrows and slowly stroked a hand through Killian’s hair. “So...what then? Change of plans? Worried this is a bad sign?” Killian gave a completely humorless laugh, shaking his head as he glanced down, feeling slightly ridiculous and a little more than overwhelmed. He’d expected a million disagreements, reasons why it was a bad idea or even just Jefferson withdrawing, but having the man meet him on the same level with a calm emotional state wasn’t on his potential list of replies. “Aye… Nay.” Aware that both words contradicted each other, he finally looked up to meet Jefferson’s gaze. “Certainly not a change of plans, but perhaps a tactic shift on just how to accomplish it.” Finally a bit of humor entered his eyes, and Killian reached his hand up to tweak his ear in an unconscious move. “I was going to wait until near the end of the vacation, so if you’d disagreed, we wouldn’t have spent the entire time trying to awkwardly avoid the topic.” “Smart,” Jefferson smirked, withdrawing his hand from Killian’s hair to snag the pirate’s hand away from his ear and press a kiss to his palm. That nervous gesture of his always did something strange to Jefferson’s heart, but even more so now, with the weight of the conversation at hand. “Unnecessary, but smart.” His tone was still careful, but clearly edged with things he was struggling to put into words. Instead of immediately stumbling through an attempt, Jefferson shifted to his feet and tugged on Killian’s arm. “Nothing ever really goes according to plan for us, does it? So do me a favor and lay out on your stomach,” he gestured towards the bed. “At the very least, I’m sticking to one small goal here.” As he kicked off his shoes and pulled the ends of his button down out of his jeans, Jefferson flashed a smile that bordered on lovestruck. “And if there was more to that plan of yours, I’d be interested to hear it.” The way his heart was flip flopping with Jefferson’s words, Killian was fairly certain he was going to throw up all over the floor. “Christ.” He muttered in return, not sure if the conversation was on a positive note or a “we’re ignoring this” note, as he had figured it would go. He let himself get pulled up, and stayed wordless for some time, beginning to strip off his traveling clothes. Button down shirt was dropped on the floor, and his prosthetic hand followed it. Of course, the edge of excitement that he always got around Jefferson was there and flicking away at the same part that was practically bouncing around from anxiety, mixing together. “I got Grace’s permission.” The sentence was blurted out with an abashed grin, hand ruffling through his hair as he pushed the words through and immediately turned toward the large bed to stretch out. He propped his chin up on the wrist where his hand used to be, and dared a glance back at Jefferson. “Been thinking on it over a month now, didn’t want it to feel rushed or that I was pressuring you, but she seemed more than bloody enthusiastic over the idea. Has been nagging me for near two weeks now, that daughter of yours.” “I knew something was off with her,” Jefferson smirked as he docked his knees on opposite sides of Killian’s thighs and hovered there, his hands already pressing deftly into the muscles at the base of the man’s back. “I’ve been catching these looks, but I chalked it up to the boy and things I likely didn’t want to know.” The fact that Killian had thought to ask Grace how she felt warmed him throughout and what little nervousness this subject had inspired started to fade. Massaging his fingers and palms up Killian’s back in a wide circular pattern, Jefferson breathed out a quiet sigh that was almost a laugh. “A month…” he murmured, shaking his head. “I think you might be a little mad, pirate.” Jefferson rolled his hands up to Killian’s shoulders and caressed the back of his neck with his thumbs. “But, seeing as I intend to love you as long as this life lets me, I think I’m just grateful you seem to be mad about me.” His movements ceased long enough for a chuckle to tumble out of his mouth, part self-deprecating and part simple joy. “Not that I can judge madness, anyway.” “Think she had an entire excuse ready for you, if you’d asked.” Killian joked, but the chuckle on his lips was quickly replaced by a groan when Jefferson’s hands hit a spot that was in dire need of massaging. The only thing keeping him flat on his stomach was the fact that this felt so bloody good, but he had the biggest urge to flip over and grab Jefferson’s hands, so that they could have such an emotional conversation face to face. But part of him knew that this was possibly Jefferson’s way of actually having it, without slinking away to face the issue another day. So for now, he was willing to compromise - not that it was much of one, since Killian was busy burying his head in the pillow and groaning at each touch. “You can’t be that surprised, Hatter.” His voice was a little muffled by the pillow, until he lifted his head slightly. “I’m bloody transparent about how I feel about you.” He dropped his head back down, but turned it to the side so that he could catch glimpses of Jefferson. “I don’t want to regret not asking because I thought I’d have all the time in the world to get around to it.” He’d made that mistake once, and while marrying Milah wouldn’t have changed anything, ultimately, that true commitment was something Killian had never been shy of. Jefferson dug his thumbs in whenever Killian made a noise that suggested he’d hit a good spot. It wasn’t only for distraction, but he wasn’t ungrateful for that benefit. Marriage had never been high on his list of to-do’s, but it wasn’t an unwelcome idea in the least. Emma’s snarky commentary about them being practically married already was accurate, after all. And he’d be lying to himself if he claimed he wasn’t already as committed as committed got. Still, it baffled him that the pirate in this relationship was the one to head down that road first. And eagerly at that. “To be fair, you haven’t actually asked anything yet,” he teased half-heartedly, lowering himself over Killian’s back to plant a kiss below his ear. “And I don’t want you to regret asking me simply because you ran out of time to ask her,” he added quietly as he straightened back up. It wasn’t a particularly fair thing to say but it was the thought that refused to be stifled all the same. Even if he generally refused to fish for reassurance, Jefferson’s insecurities were apparently rearing their ugly head, anyway. Killian froze in place, hand curling around the pillow for a brief second while he shifted his head to look back at the headboard in front of him. The minimal worry that he was projecting what he lost onto his relationship with Jefferson was gone just as quickly as it came, before inwardly shaking his head that no, absolutely not a thought popped in his head that he regretted being with Jefferson. His eyes narrowed slightly, and Killian shifted his hips before making one quick flip below him, albeit a bit awkwardly, but it got the job done until Killian was able to grasp Jefferson’s hand with his own. “That isn’t what I said, love.” His voice was quiet, and his eyes leveled with Jefferson’s face. “Regardless of what happened with Milah, it doesn’t change my feelings for you, not one bloody bit.” Normally one for teasing and joking, Killian’s face was unusually set in a hard, serious line. Even as his wrist bumped Killian’s leg to drive home the point, he kept his furrowed brows on the man above him. “All it’s done is made me see that life is worth living, and doing what makes you happy. That’s not something I’ll take for granted ever again, Hatter, and you make me happy. So aye, I want to marry you, if you’ll have me. The only regret I would have is not asking you, even if you aren’t ready.” The shift in position earned Killian a pair of raised eyebrows, but the seriousness of his response smothered Jefferson’s urge to smirk. Instead, he slid half off of Killian to stretch out on a hip next to him. Worried it might seem like he was purposefully avoiding having this conversation face to face instead of avoiding the distraction of straddling Killian’s hips, Jefferson reached to turn Killian’s face towards his as he settled into the crook of his shoulder. “I didn’t mean for it to sound like I doubted your feelings. I don’t. I can’t, because you never give me a chance to,” he smirked, slipping his hand downwards to rest against the side of Killian’s throat. “I’ll admit to the occasional insecurity over whether I’m worthy of them, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m right here, for as long as you want me to be.” Suddenly aware that he was dancing around a clear-cut answer without meaning to, Jefferson exhaled on a laugh and screwed up his face into a crookedly squinting smile. “Short version? Yes. I mean, I’d like to keep you. Since you’re offering.” Killian let out the breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. Christ, that was some of the most nervewracking moments of his life and he hadn’t even asked the question, just made a statement. Still, Killian couldn’t ignore the extreme relief that settled in his stomach. Even knowing dinner was on it’s way and noting that Jefferson had purposely slid to the side so they didn’t get distracted, Killian dove in for a kiss, hand reaching up to cup the side of Jefferson’s face. Finally, after he was out of breath and had debated long and hard about just letting food sit outside their door when it arrived, he pulled away just a fraction of an inch and rested his forehead against Jefferson’s. “Took you long enough to give me a bloody answer. Christ. Thought I might get an ulcer just from waiting.” He leaned in again, unable to resist kissing Jefferson, this time with his slow, steady grin firmly in place. “Unless you want to, I’ve no plans on dragging you down the aisle tomorrow. I wanted my intentions known.” Jefferson chuckled against Killian’s mouth, unselfconsciously clinging to the pirate until he broke off the second kiss himself. “In my defense, you still never actually asked me anything. But good to know you’re not planning a hostage scenario. I think there are laws against that sort of thing…,” he teased. With the incoming food completely forgotten and a matching grin locked in place, Jefferson buried a hand in Killian’s hair and rolled them both until he was back on top of him. “Let’s just leave the details for another day, okay? I think it’s important...that we focus...on the fact…” - each pause was punctuated by a small, quietly giddy kiss, marking a path from Killian’s shoulder back to his mouth - “...that Jefferson Jones sounds hilariously made-up and kind of perfect all at once.” “Don’t hold your bloody breath, either.” Killian grinned, despite the harsher tone with the words. His hand tangled into Jefferson’s hair, tugging on his head to bring him in for another kiss. “I’ve no plans on doing it until I have that ring back in my hands. Until then,” He leaned up to kiss gently from Jefferson’s mouth to his ear, before tugging gently on the lobe with his teeth, so that he could whisper. “You’ll just have to keep thinking about how good my name sounds next to yours.” Allowing himself to get carried away, Killian’s hand trailed over Jefferson’s back and down the curve of his arse, cupping it to bring him closer-- Just in time for a sharp rap on the door, likely signaling the arrival of their dinner. Killian dropped his head back with a groan, strongly debating telling the bloke delivering the food to sod off. “Christ. That timing seems to go well with my luck this weekend.” Jefferson was humming quiet, wordless noises of encouragement and slipping his hands up Killian’s stomach by the time the knock came. Snorting at the pirate’s dramatics, Jefferson grabbed him by the chin and stole a quick kiss before climbing off the bed. “You know, the melodramatic bit is my gig,” he joked as he headed for the door. “And food is still a good idea. Besides, you said something about feeding me and I’m taking that literally. It’s the least you can do after the disappointment of no ring…” he added. Even though his tone was mock-serious and he opened the door without hesitation, Jefferson’s affectionate gaze never left the man on the bed. And he doubted it would for hours yet. |