burnination | Eudio IC Inbox; un: maximoose

[ Tristan is definitely not stopping his onslaught of pressing and pushing, setting a series of kisses along Max's cheeks that are too enthusiastic to be the kind that begets sleepy cuddling. ]

No.

[ Reaching forward with his hands, he doesn't hesitate to slide them under Max's shirt, the way he might to leech heat off him, but instead of frigid, Tristan's skin proves to be incredibly warm. ]

Max, it's back, okay? Kind of, but it's back.

Edited 2016-01-08 15:41 (UTC)

[ max is just at the start of a vague, slightly high pitched, whine, when the pressing and pushing and trying to shake him out of his sleep coma because hands underneath his shirt, max's stomach reflexively jerking to tense up, because icy fingers is a sure fire way to get him awake, but...

no cold. just warm, so much warmth, a kind of warmth tristan's hands haven't had in a long time, and max's eyes blink sluggishly open, tugging his shirt up to look at the hands on his skin. ]

Holy shit. [ he mumbles, blinking rapidly a few more times, to make sure he actually is awake, and not imagining thing. ] Holy shit, Tris!

[ the last line exclaimed as he glances over to his friend, a second or so before lurching up to tackle him, shoving his own hands under tristan's clothes to splay over his chest and soak up that warmth emitting from a newly recharged magical core. ] It's back! Tris!

[ Tristan almost blurts out an overly-excited "I told you so" but doesn't bother, just laughs, because it hasn't felt that good to laugh in a long time. He knew since the house it was starting, but feeling that heat over his fingers, radiating out from his chest. It feels like being kissed by someone who has loved you since the very beginning of all creation. It feels like gates have been opened and the taste of gold on your tongue--not the bloody, bitter kind but the sweet, gilt taste of it resting on your teeth. ]

That's what I was trying to tell you, [ he murmurs smoothly, feeling Max slide his hands up under his shirt and against his ribs. He breathes in deep and full and feels like he could fucking run a marathon. He could run the length of the West Coast all the way to his mother. He could swim the fucking Pacific and then swim back and swim the Atlantic just as well. Climb Kiloman-whatever-it's-called. All that good stuff.

He bumps temples with Max, too hard, enough to smart, but the exhilaration dulls it. ]

I didn't know who to tell first--you were closest. I had to tell someone.

[ It couldn't wait until breakfast, okay? ]

[ he can feel it, brimming just under tristan's skin, the familiar hum of light and brilliance and divinity that's all specifically tris. not the same as dani's, or as nada's. how long as it been since he'd felt tristan's heaven touched magic, bury himself in his friend's arms and curl up to the pulse of it he'd known so well? so many years, and god, he hadn't thought it'd be this good to know it again. max surges forward, kissing tristan like he hadn't seen him in ages, fast and fierce, but pulls back a short moment after, bouncing on the mattress and holding his cheeks between his palms.

there is a moment of legit bed jumping. as much as he can while only half sitting up, at least. ]

Maybe lead with that next time, okay? Come on. [ because we're not going to just sit in his bed and chatter about it, okay. that defeats the point, and max is scrambling his way over tris to get out of bed, before grabbing his hand and pulling him out as well. ]

Let's do some fucking magic.

[ to the library, where a lot of their magic crap is kept (after maybe mixing up one too many cooking ingredients with eye of newt or whatever). ]

Edited 2016-02-03 08:15 (UTC)

[ Tristan sounds off into the kiss with a happy half-laugh, melting into the action before Max pulls away and hauls him up off of the bed by his hands. He fumbles forward with him, blankets piling at his ankles, which he picks his way out of carefully. If he doesn't, well, it means he's going to end up face-first on the floor and that's not really what he's going for at this time of night in all of his excitement. ]

Please.

[ It's excitement, but also panic because Tris hasn't felt this in so long. He's half afraid it's going to disappear by daybreak like some kind of curse and that's the last thing he wants to have to come to terms with. He moves from Max's hand to his arm, wrapping his own tightly around it as they leave his room into the darkened halls. Tristan wastes no time in giving an old trick a try, sliding a thumb over his fingers and creating a soft, amorphous cloud of light. It takes a minute for the thing to get with the program, hovering a moment out of shape before pulling into a gently bobbing perfect sphere of light and moving forward like a guide. ]

[ max would not let him face plant on the floor, okay. once out in the hall, he pauses as he feels tris pulling at his magic, conjuring something up, and steps close to him, an arm wrapping over his waist as his chin settles on his shoulder, watching tristan's hands work before a small sphere of light pops up. ]

Look at you... [ he murmurs, in awe, before giving him a sound kiss on the cheek. he remembers tristan's lights, how it made sneaking in and out of the school so much easier. he and marco never could do it right with hellfire, not without leaving too much smoke and the smell of sulfur behind them. with tris, it's just pure light, and it's beyond beautiful.

with their nightlight bobbing ahead of them, max continues tugging tris along, stopping in the kitchen to grab a few magical knickknacks, before heading for the living room, where there's a pile of pillows to flop down on, dragging a blanket off the couch to wrap over both their shoulders, as he sits up against tristan's side. ] What next? Can you make two? Can you make them dance?

[ Max is bleeding warmth all over, and as the blanket covers the both of them, Tristan works the small light just above his palm, bites his lip as he feels it growing just a little more than before, starting to peel away from itself until it has become two separate balls of light that orbit one another, little stars that make the smile on Tristan's face grow all the brighter. ]

Two... and...

[ He presents his hand to Max proudly, and though the lights themselves are small, they brighten up the contours of his face, the inviting corners of his mouth enough that he leans over to kiss him soundly on the lips, a hum working its way out from his throat as the small lights are softly hefted off of his palm, not unlike how you might give a bird wing to lift off. The two spheres twirl around one another, about as close to dancing as inanimate balls of light willed into being by Tristan can be. He remembers, back in school, making handfuls of them, blowing them into the darkness, catching in people's hair, lighting candles, floating into the night like fireflies. ]

Dancing... sort of.

[ He scoots up as close to Max as he can, pressing his cheek to Max's own and watching the pair of lights dance around one another, not yet ready to separate and discover the bigger picture just yet. ]

[ max watches, enchanted and mesmerized, like a little kid seeing magic for the first time, but it's been so long since he saw tristan's light. he'd missed it so much, and he'd missed tris seeing it. feeling it. being so full of it he beams with glee. this place has been so good for them, in so many ways.

and tristan looks completely stunning, in a mystic, ethereal sort of way, when he turns to him, holy light highlighting his cheekbones and the lines of his lips. max falls into the kiss as much as tris captures him up in it, humming something pleased and yearning at the same time. tilting his head to look at the lights dancing, he sighs out, and scoots up close with tris, tossing a leg over his, and tugging him up close against his chest, as he kisses along his cheek in excitement. ]

It's beautiful, Tris. I missed your magic. [ tris no doubt missed his magic too, but max loves seeing him with it. lifting up his hand, a small orb of hellfire forms, similar to tristan's little fireflies, and he sends it up to dance along with them, before wrapping his arms around his ribs, holding him close. ]

[ His magic back home, what was left of it anyways, was nothing in comparison to how this felt. It was whole, clean, if anything, unmuddled by his tattoos, which aided him, but never made such crisp and clear magic like this. He breathes in and out once, an excited sort of sigh trying to get his racing heart under control as Max gathers him together and kisses his cheek once more.

Sending up his own small ball of flame is enough to make Tris grin, biting his own lip slowly as he watches the lights dance carefully about one another, floating before their faces. ]

Yeah, well... mine missed yours too... I missed all of this. How it felt...

[ It's true, and just to prove it, he settles a hand over Max's chest, palm still Heaven-warm and reaching forward like he used to when they were kids. Reaching, stretching, little golden strings that mingle softly with Max's own magic and wind themselves tight and taut with him. His free arm joins him, goes around Max's broad torso and his face finds the crook of his neck to rest, to feel his pulse against the skin of his cheek as he focuses on reaching outwards almost proudly with his own magic. ]

[ breathing in deep, max's chest pushes out, against tristan's palm on his skin, rising up to meet him, and the exhale is a sweet, soft, sigh, like sinking into the water at a hot spring. relaxing, relieving, refreshing. magic prickles in his cells, singing out against the confines of his body and slinking forward to tangle with tristan's, meeting together with familiar energy and singing out. it feels a little like being high, a buzzing all over his body, but not so muddled. crisp, clean. ]

Welcome back. We have a lot of time to make up for.

[ not that they weren't able to do little magic tricks together before, but tristan's had been so muted. so much of things like this - the sort of full body thrill of it - wasn't easy.

pulling tris in as he wraps his arm around him, max's lips press here and there almost unconsciously, just showering affection on him, while tugging him close, pressed flush to his chest and settled heavily in his lap. with the blanket tucked around their shoulders still, it's easy to fill the small space with magical heat, have it flow out like a clean fog and fill up all the spaces between them. the demonic roughness and darkness of his magic stretches out towards the brilliant heavenly in tristan's, like seeking out both an old friend and old enemy. either way, it leaves the strands of them - their magic, their spirits - all tangled uptight, moving together like kelp under the sea surface, strung together tight. ]

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