mind_blown | IMEEJI INBOX

[Distracted as he was, Griffin still had to marvel that Jay... wasn't being rough. Not like last time, the struggle for dominance that had swept him away.

But they have to come up for breath eventually. And when he does, self-consciousness starts to trickle back-- the anxious thought that Jay didn't want to hear his answer because he didn't want to deal with it. Because romance was a dirty word in this rivalry.

He murmurs,] It's not romance if that's just how I feel, right?

[It's not like he was trying to sway Jay into acting any different. But. But he could stop, if that's what Jay wanted.]

I... don’t know?

[he answers honestly, a hint of confusion in his voice. Shit, Silk was right the whole time. There’s a strong part of him that wants to caution Griffin. He can be a rival, no problem, he can push him all he wants.

But he didn’t think he could be the affection giver he wanted. He couldn’t be the secret romantic, like D.Va. Would he really want to tie his hopes to something Jason would inevitably let him down on?]

Feel the way you want, Griffin.

[The corners of his mouth twitch in a hesitant smile. It feels like, maybe he shouldn't reach out and touch Jay's face, or brush the stray strands of his hair back. That'd be asking too much of Jay to bear with his sentimentalism.

So he runs his thumb over his own scabbed lip, the bruise on his jaw instead. Because touching the marks Jay gave him would do.]

You can feel whatever you want, too. It's okay.

[He can do without. He'll be fine, as long as he stirs a fire in you sometimes. That you look at him with pride sometimes. If he couldn't do that, then... he wasn't even a rival, much less anything else.]

[ honestly?

there's a hint of relief in his face. that maybe, in this moment, Griffin was fine without that sentimentality. because he didn't know. he just knew his head hurt, and he was feeling decidedly one track minded. not a good combination for this type of talk. ]

Alright.

[ just a rival. that's fine.

but they should... probably. move. or something. how the hell do you sleep on something this soft? ]

[The relief in Jay's face is reassurance to Griffin too - he smiles, more confidently now, grips Jay firmly by the back of the head and pulls him in for another kiss.]

[fine, that... he can work with. though, he leans forward, hand starts to slide past his jacket. still wanting some sort of intimacy, all things considered]

[Mmm. This was too many layers to wear in bed, it's true. Griffin takes the hint to slough off his extra layers, though not without a wince of pain and a shuddering pause to push through the soreness.]

... Are you really that tired?

[curiously-- he'd already sloughed his shoes and jacket off at the door.]

[Grumpy pout?]

Says the guy who kicked my ass!!

[OF COURSE HE'D HAVE MORE BRUISES. But also, being flashy isn't really energy efficient.]

You know, if you used the flashy moves when I was already down... you'd both use less of them, and have a higher success rate.

Maybe even have some energy right now.

[he teases]

[The most annoying part is that he wasn't wrong? But also, Jay gets a huffy frown. Style is in his blood okay don't call him out]

You're such an ass...

[he is an ass-- which is how griffin gets a slightly aggressive kiss.]

You looked really cool, though.

[What the fuckkkkk

Griffin turns beet red at the magic word and-- melts uselessly against the hunger of this kiss. Mmnf. Asshole. Making his stupid chest flutter with a compliment, fuck!!

He glows for a moment, like the way he does when doing his stupid flashy moves, with a soft moan in his throat. Goddammit.]

[griffin really shouldn't encourage him because it's hard to just stop there.]

God, stop that, if you're that tired.

[honestly, he'll turn onto his back, to pull out his phone-- mostly to set some sort of alarm.]

I can still go...

[No he can't.

But here's still gonna try and climb onto Jay and-- ok, this is taking more energy than he expected. He can still kiss his neck, sluggishly, but

Man it's hard to raise his head back up why doesn't he just let it rest there for a second and

Just kinda. Drifts off with his head in the crook of Jay's neck, half-lying on top of him.]

[... god. how did he get into this situation.

he sighs, and stares up at the ceiling.

he could just shove griffin off.

keep his alarm on, to rudely wake them both up?

or just pass on a nap, himself.

... he pauses, and shuts his phone screen off without finalizing the alarm, and instead he just starts to recount things-- before.

naturally drifing off to sleep himself, not used to how soft a bed can be.

and once 30 minutes passes, there's literally no waking him]]

[Griffin drifts back to consciousness around an hour later, a pool of spit dribbled onto Jay's chest.]

Mmnnh...?

[Wait. That's a body under him.

Startled, he jerks back - ow, still ow - mortified that he'd trapped him there for god knows how long.]

Jay?? How long was I out?! Sorry, I--

[he is very much still passed out.

he doesn't even notice the drool stain on his shirt. hell, if anything he just readjusts, turning towards griffin]

...

...Jay?

[Nudges his shoulder lightly.]

[........... yeah no he's super dead.

for all the shit he was talking about having energy, he sure seems exhausted now that he's asleep]

[...Well, maybe he should let him sleep. Jay seems to need it.

With a hiss, Griffin sits up and looks around. Maybe a bath to help with the soreness. The Feint could probably get dinner prep started, too?

...

He glances back down at Jay. Strange, that without all the cockiness on his face, he seemed so weary? Griffin found himself... brushing Jay's hair with his fingers, ever so lightly. Fondly admiring his sleeping face.]

Get some rest.

[...A moment more, and he pulls the blankets over him, and lets him be.]

[yeah, it's a long sleep, a solid 10+ hours later, before he actually starts to live again, and he pushes himself up probably way too quickly.

his normally put together look is rather-- well, his hair is definitely in a more natural state but now, and he's not quite registering where the hell he is for a moment.]

... Shit.

[No one responds. But a quick glance would register Griffin, with headphones on, at a writing desk hunched over some project or another.

If Jay was a closet nerd with his books, then Griffin was a closet artist - he had sketches and coloring samples strewn across, taped to the wall around him. Little personal projects, just for him.

He's tapping his pen to the beat of some song, humming along sporadically.]

[time to be nosy.

Though, he wants the coffee now more than he did this afternoon. And he is definitely starving by now.

He runs a tired hand through his hair, and then pushes off the bed. He isn’t bothering Griffin just yet, observing instead.]

[If he peers over Griffin's shoulder, he'll find him working on the layout of what looks like a mural of birds in flight. The birds themselves are unexpectedly elegant, delicate in their rendering. A heraldic style to their wings, all curves and filigree.

Meanwhile, the background is harsh, rough, like graffiti. Thorns and flames and heavy metal imagery lining the frame.]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject