applesaucedream | Saving Lives a Mile High [open to all]

Welcome to another ordinary day in Manhattan. This barely even qualifies as a dream at all, it's so like waking life. The dreamers will find that they're their own perfectly normal selves going about their perfectly normal business and thwarting perfectly normal crimes in their perfectly normal spandex outfits.

What's that? No, of course it's normal to wear spandex (or leather, for the more chic among you) and go around beating up muggers and thwarting your villainous counterparts, don't be silly. What else would you do with your afternoon, not use your superpowers to better the world? That's grossly irresponsible of you; don't you know that with great power comes great responsibility?

So get out there and make the world a better place -- and be sure not to let that disguise slip if you do make it in to work today. Wouldn't want anyone to learn your secret identity, after all.

[OOC: Characters will find themselves thrust into the role of superhero...or at least, super-powered human. Whether they'd use those powers for good or evil (or use them at all), they'll think they've always been this way (or maybe just since that time they fell in toxic waste and developed ~~cancer~~ telekinesis). Usual dream party rules apply: all players and characters welcome regardless of membership status. Characters will remember or forget the events of the dream at players' discretion.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Something twists in his gut at that; he hesitates, though he doesn't pull away. He accepts the kiss and keeps his hands in Gabriel's hair, but tips his head down a little when their lips part, resting his forehead against Gabriel's.

"Partner," he says, his voice wavering in spite of his best efforts to scoff. "Where'd you get that from?"

It's familiar, somehow, makes him ache in a way that feels like sense memory, like this is something he's heard and felt before and not Gabriel talking crazy out of nowhere.

He does pull away, setting his hands at Gabriel's shoulders, eyes flicking searchingly over his face.

"How could I possibly look out for you?" he says, half a genuine question, and half a playful challenge.

"Easy." He smirks, and his hands brush up and back down Johnny's sides. "Instead of watching my ass, you watch my back." His smile softens as he thinks over an actual response to the question. Jokes are easy, but it's less easy to give examples from an alternate universe that doesn't actually exist.

"You're capable. And smart. And impulsive. And scrappy as fuck in a fight." He lifts one hand and brings it to cup Johnny's jaw. "You've helped me. You know that. Not just with-" He gestures vaguely to the city, maybe indicating the whole crime fighting thing. "Sometimes I need you. As you are."

His smirk returns and he drops his hand down to Johnny's knee. "And you don't pass out when you touch glowing meteor rock. Bonus."

Truant shifts uneasily, pulling back as much as he can without actually getting out of Gabriel's lap.

"I didn't know you..." he murmurs, but that's not true either, somehow, even though he's quite certain they've never talked about this-

He grunts softly and moves his hand to his head, rubbing at the distant headache brimming behind one eye. Fuck this, since when does he get headaches in dre-

Oh.

He blinks suddenly, the proverbial clouds parting, and stares freshly at the angel he's sitting on.

"Gabe?" he blurts, still pretty dazed, still piecing together which parts of his memory are real and which were literally dreamed up.

"Hey," Gabriel's smile softens as Johnny seems to come to the realization that he's dreaming. He gives him a moment, and rubs his thumb over Johnny's knee in comfort. "Superhero dream. You were doing some bitchin' parkour earlier. Do you remember that?"

"Uh... yeah, kinda," he says, resting his hands on Gabe's shoulders. Everything is foggy and hazy but Gabe feels solid, and that's something. He leans in, sort of curling up against him, what a friggin loser, but he thinks he needs this.

"I don't usually... not know," he says, shaking his head slightly. "Feel like I'm drugged or something." He looks down for a moment, then pulls back and levels a smirk at Gabe. "You look hot."

He snorts a laugh and grins at the compliment, though he's not entirely sure whether to take it as genuine or not. He does know that he likes when Johnny cuddles up to him like that. "I'll have to add more spandex to my wardrobe, if you really feel that way."

He lifts his hand from Johnny's knee to the lapel of his jacket, which he strokes thoughtfully. "I like this." Then, with a smile, he lifts a hand to prod gently at Johnny's spiked hair. "This is a good look, but I like it better when I can get my hands in it."

"Oh no, don't, I may swoon entirely," says Johnny, barely biting back a laugh. He grins, looking down at Gabe's hands on the jacket, only now noticing what he's wearing - good grief, but his subconscious is a tool - and then Gabe brings the attention to his hair, which... oh god. His eyes widen as he touches it. He can only imagine how fucking absurd he must look.

"Jesus Christ," he groans. "Please get your hands in it, mess it up, this is the worst. We get to be superheroes and I'm some poser-punk hustler, fuck."

Actually that's pretty apt, but that's not the point.

"I could put you in spandex," he threatens playfully, his hands already moving to disrupt Johnny's hair. Normally this might present some problems, but here he pushes his fingers through each spike and it simply falls apart. He does this methodically until Johnny's hair is back to normal, then slides his fingers through the whole thing, scrubbing at his scalp at his goes. "Much better."

"Don't you dare," says Johnny, actually laughing this time (how long has it been since he actually laughed?), and then quiets into a contented little smile as Gabe fixes his hair, moving his hands slowly and gently through it.

"Mmh," he says softly. "Much."

He leans forward, cups his hands around the back of Gabe's neck, and kisses him slow and soft, half-smiling into it. Aren't they still mad at each other? Who fucking cares. He misses this. They both need it. This isn't even real.

You can get away with literal murder in these fucking dreams.

He lets his hands move from Gabe's neck back down his chest, taking his time to feel him out. "I'll say this for spandex," he says wryly, "it doesn't leave much to the imagination."

Gabriel leans gently into the kiss, one hand still idly playing with Johnny's hair, the other dropped to his waist.

He chuckles at Johnny's comment then takes a deep breath, puffing his chest out in the process. "Is that a good thing? Thought that's what you liked about the suits, everything left to the imagination."

"I like both," says Johnny with a laugh. "I'm vast, I contain multitudes."

Ha ha literally. Yeah no fuck that line of thinking altogether. He presses in for another kiss, quick and hungry, eager to move outward, keep himself occupied so he can't be in his head.

"I just like you," he says softly, sliding his hands back up to cup around Gabriel's face, thumbs smoothing over his cheeks.

Saving Lives a Mile High [open to all]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject