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[danzan]

STARTERS & PROMPTS ENCOURAGED. feel free to pm me for discussion!

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[measurelessly]

[ oh hey that's a good one. ]

Mm.. [ a grin as he plucks the sliver out of logan's fingers. ] Blow.

[danzan]

[ Me. ]

Bubbles.

[measurelessly]

[ hahaha. he flicks the sliver into the air and it floats placidly out in front of them, making itself into a little stick figure. ]

Bath.

[danzan]

[ He's distracted from the whittling to watch David's telekinesis. ]

Uh. [ It's always so fascinating. ] Fancy.

[measurelessly]

[ he gently scratches against logan's scalp, running his knuckles down his nape. as he does so, the stick figure lands on logan's knee, making itself comfortable, as if to watch logan whittle. ]

Party.

[danzan]

[ That's cute. Logan settles, a low rumble in his chest coming instinctively at the touching, and gets back to work. ]

Pop.

[measurelessly]

[ as always, the near-purr shivers right through him, a mix of comforting and admittedly arousing. ]

Mmmusic?

[danzan]

Folk.

[ The shiver is felt, so Logan shifts, nuzzles the side of David's knee. The low sound continues.

He flicks another bit of wood out. ]

[measurelessly]

[ his toes curl against the floor at the nuzzle, breath hitching briefly.

on logan's knee, the little figure taps him as if to tell them both to behave. ]

Uh, mountain.

[danzan]

[ He's tapped and Logan thinks: Shit.

He huffs, more of a laugh than petulant, and keeps his temple still against David's knee. ]

Hill.

[measurelessly]

Mole.

[ he presses his ankle against logan's hip, hand sliding down from the other man's nape, tracing the top few bumps of his spine beneath his shirt. ]

[danzan]

Rrrr... [ His hackles raise just slightly, relax again. ] ...rabbit.

[measurelessly]

[ he breathes an almost-laugh, dragging fingertips back up again. ]

Cute.

[danzan]

[ This huff sounds a little like a dog's disgruntled 'rrmff'. ] David.

[measurelessly]

[ a slightly flustered, amused pause, charmed as always. ]

Yours.

[danzan]

[ Mine plays in his head a couple of times, again and again like Logan's stuck on it.

But he manages a growled: ] Happy.

[measurelessly]

Uh-huh, [ he agrees contentedly, and finally sits up enough to lean over logan, catching his mouth in an upside-down kiss. ]

[danzan]

[ The yeses in Logan's head bleed away into satisfaction. He kisses back, free hand moving to grip the back of David's neck as soon as his claw's retracted. ]

You are, huh? [ It's muttered quietly into his mouth. ]

[measurelessly]

[ yeah, he asserts, mental voice warm and content as he kisses him again. he presses another to the bridge of logan's nose, then sits up a little to nuzzle into his temple.

on logan's knee, the stick figure shakes its head, then unfolds into a sliver of wood again, falling away. ]

I love you. What're you making?

[danzan]

Huh? [ His brain has stopped working, and Logan looks down at his work.

He's forgotten for a moment. ]

It. [ A laugh. ] A flute.

I can make other things. [ His claws pushes out again so he can work on shaving more. ] And.

I love you, too.

[measurelessly]

[ fascinated, david peers down at the emerging flute, hands sliding over logan's shoulders and into the neck of his shirt, flattening against his upper chest. ]

Do you know how to play?

[ a kiss to his ear, teeth catching briefly at the curve. ]

[danzan]

Horribly? Oh, yeah.

[ Having succeeded in the grooves of the outside, Logan's claw is given up in favour of a smaller, more precise knife to hollow the insides out. ]

Hell, [ he's breathing easy into David's touch, tilting his head a bit into the feel of lips on his skin ] if I didn't heal, I'd be deaf by now from practising.

[measurelessly]

[ he laughs a little, fingers flexing, gently curling against bare skin. ]

My adoptive mom tried to make me learn piano. She gave up pretty quickly, though. [ no musical talent. none. he also can't carry a tune in a five-gallon bucket. (it doesn't stop him from singing in the shower and/or bath.) ]

I feel like you're more of a guitar man, anyway.

[danzan]

Guitar? The claws ain't picks, you know.

[ But David isn't wrong. Funny, the things you pick up at war -- but bunker time is longer than people think. ]

Mother made me play the piano, too. [ He flips the flute, works on hollowing it from the other end. ] Said it'd make me gentler for when I hit marrying age.

[ He looks back, brow raised. ] You didn't like it? Piano.

[measurelessly]

[ it doesn't matter how often he hears about logan's life before, about his mother, about his upbringing.. it always startles him a little. logan's lived so long that sometimes, it seems that he's a fixture in time-- that he's always been what he is now.

but.. he wasn't. once upon a time, he was a scared little boy, just like david had been. a scared child who'd been mistreated, who'd lost everything, who'd been forced to fend for himself for far too long.

he tightens his arms around him faintly at the thought, protective all over again. ]

Mm, no musical talent. I couldn't even learn it, really. My telepathy kicked in really early, so I just.. couldn't focus. Too loud, too many voices.