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2046-09-24 Guilt

From X-Factor

Guilt
Date Posted 2016/09/26
Location Micaela and Diego's Apartment - New York City
Participants Diego, Micaela
Summary Diego is a little unhappy Kade is unhappy. Micaela tries to make him feel better.
Related Logs 2046-09-24 You Outta Be In Pictures
 
DiDiego.jpg MiMicaela.jpg
In the echelon of the Montague Apartments, there is a certain expected modernity that defines them. Micaela & Diego's apartment isn't as swanky as some in the building, but it has distinctive marks of elegance in its diffused lighting, sharp metal kitchen bar with tall chairs, and modern technology built in throughout. A focal light composed of glittering glass hangs over the kitchen island/bar. It sparkles against the rich red accent wall that marks the main room of the apartment. The decorating is as bold as its occupants: a shield takes a place of pride over a gas fireplace, flanked by a pair of gold tails and ears--presumably from a bull. Little touches of Diego's matador career color the rooms, along with Micaela's preference for expensive furnishings and decorations that have a touch of the dramatic.


The television is still playing when Micaela gets home. Diego is looking rather more rumpled than when she left him with Kade for the evening, a fact supported by the decidedly lower volume in their alcohol bottles on the counter. Another telenovela plays on the screen, a leading man in Zorro-esque garb strutting his way down a Spanish street. The top buttons of his shirt are unbuttoned, exposing the delicate gold chain around his neck in the blue light of the screen. His dark eyes are half lidded as he reclines against the couch, an arm draped over the back of it.

The sound of the door opening, closing and locking again is followed by the sound of keys clanking in a purse that's dropped to the ground near the door in a gesture that is less careless than it looks. Micaela has perfected that. "Wow..." She says with a laugh, heels clicking on the floor as she takes in the apartment with a sweeping gaze, settling on Diego finally after giving everything else a once over. "I thought you said you weren't having a party."

Despite his apparent speed, Diego lifts his head veeeery slowly as he hears the sound of a purse cluttering to the floor. His brows lift with interest at the sight of his wife, all dolled up for the evening. His mouth spreads into a slow smile. "I didn't, Mia Amor. Although we did our best." Extending a hand, he wiggles his fingers for her to join him on the couch.

"It looks like you did," Micaela notes with a low tone of amusement, crossing the distance between them with a swing of hips. She collapses dramatically next to him on the couch, throwing an arm around his shoulders on the back of the couch. "Good night, then?" She wonders, dragging her fingers along his neck, up into the hair at the base of his skull.

"And how was your night…?" Diego asks, his voice low and lingering as he watches the swing of her hips with interest. His dark eyes slide up her figure in a caress that is almost as physical as a touch. His hand wraps around her waist as she collapses into him, pulling her close and pressing a kiss to her jaw. "It was… nice. Mostly. I think our friend is… not as happy as I've known him."

"Mmm," Micaela nearly purrs when he pulls her close, then laughs. "Good. Mild. Some drinking, some dancing...A little gossip. You know how it goes. No one started a fight, which I'm sure you'll be relieved to hear." It's not always how her evenings out go, although there is less of a chance of her getting into a fight with the paparazzi or his fans in the US. "...no? Did something happen? He seemed happy the last time I saw him..." She thinks.

Lips trail down Micaela's jaw as she speaks, brushing briefly against her neck with a hint of rasping from his beard. "Mhmmm… I know you would have finished any fights began." He trusts her. Even if she drives him crazy sometimes. "It is nice to be in a city where we are more… normal." They aren't celebrities so much here and no one follows him around. "I think…" Diego flattens his lips, sighing softly as he leans his head against her shoulder. "He is not entirely happy with my new job."

"I always do...," Micaela agrees, sounding distracted from the trail of his lips. "I don't miss having to peel your fangirls off of you, no. I'm not sure we'll ever be /normal/, though." They move in some different circles than some people do, but they are still what they are. She kicks off her heels and curls up on the couch. "What does your new job have to do with anything?" She plainly doesn't get it. "Did he make fun of you?" She asks after a moment and he can hear the fight spooling already in her voice.

"That you do…" The sound of Diego's voice lowers to a growl as he nips lightly at her throat, the press of teeth felt as he grins. "It was always quite a sight." Micaela peeling away fangirls, often physically. They are still what they are. Leaning away a little, he rests his head against the couch as he repeats that sigh. "No. He did not make fun…" His brows furrows as he tries to collect what he feels into words. "It was as if he was upset. He drank much more than I have seen of him. He said he wanted to act once."

"And...don't you forget it," Micaela drawls, a shudder of breath interrupting her words as he nips at her neck, making her lean her head back a little. He can feel as well as hear the sound of her deep chuckle. It was always quite a sight. "I think the papers agreed, for better or worse." Her expression gets sharper, dark eyes filled with a concern rarely seen by people other than Diego. She drags her fingernails gently through his hair idly. "Oh," she says, mulling that over for a bit. "So...he was jealous?"

Diego's breath courses against her neck as he whispers, "Never." His lips follow the pattern of his words. "They did. There are a few of those photos I have framed," he drawls with a hint of the smirk. Micaela's prowess is always a sight to behold. Her features sharpen as his withdraw a little, brow remaining furrowed with thought and hint of unease. "I did not mean to make him so?" He offers a little helplessly, tilting his head into her touch. "But yes. I believe that might be so."

"I like the one of me elbowing that guy," Micaela purrs, sounding very pleased, both with herself and Diego. In fairness, that particular shot almost looks like a renaissance painting, if a violent one. "Oh, I know you didn't, baby," she reassures, leaning in to press a kiss to his temple that's soothing instead of sexual. "He'll live. He's been jealous that I can fly for, like, years now. Maybe just...I don't know. Don't invite him over to watch it anymore?"

"That one was spectacular." Those are his favorite kinds of paintings. Micaela can hear the grin in Diego's voice, warm and bright. Hand on her hip, he squeezes it gently as he holds her close. "I didn't," he says in soft protest, lips pursing in a slight pout at the kiss she places against his temple. "He is my friend." One does not try to make their friends jealous. "Your flight is spectacular, but this. I don't know. I took something away from him." He nods at that suggestion, nuzzling his nose against her shoulder. "Maybe there is some way to make it up."

"Mm, yes it is." Micaela still sounds pleased and very self-satisfied. She got a lot of shit for that one, but it doesn't seem to have dampened her spirit. "I /know/," she repeats, a little more insistently, with just and edge of frustration. "I know." Now, /she/ might try to make a friend a little jealous (within whatever she considers reason) but not Diego. He only does that accidentally. If not infrequently. (Sorry, it's true). "You didn't take anything away from him, Diego...You wouldn't do that. Hm."

There is little that is capable of truly dampening Micaela's spirit and whatever might would have to face Diego. Blinking his dark eyes at her, he watches as she protests, repeating the words of her argument. "It feels as if I did," he says softly, features caught in a woebegone light. His mouth quirks in a slight smile, lifting a hand to trace the line of her jaw. "I do not like the way they treat us, treat our friends, in this country. Kade asked me… He asked if they knew. If they knew I was X-Force. I do not know. They did not ask. I did not mention." Licking his lips, he slides his fingertips along her dress with gentle tenderness. "It is not unknown to my fans that I am a mutant. That it is part of my fame, but it is not so here."

Micaela sighs, sinking back into the couch a little, at a loss to argue with his feelings. She knows better than to really try, at this point. "He'll be fine," she just assures again, turning her head to look at him. "You know...Spain had it's problems too," she reminds quietly. "But like anywhere...being a celebrity is having a kind of power. You can live above some things..." She sighs. "It's not like we're supposed to talk about being X-Force. Even I don't do that." Never a quiet person, even she doesn't speak on things that are classified.

Diego allows her room to sink back into the couch, but not far away from him with an arm wrapping around her waist as if he can tuck her against his side. "I hope so." His eyes are dark, expression turned downward with solemnity that would seem affected if she didn't know him and his moods so well. "Maybe we did. Too high, but…" He shakes his head. "Si. We were not nor the things that we have done."

It's easy to slide Micaela closer to his side. She hasn't moved away from him. "He's a big boy, Diego. He's suffered worse than a little jealousy, of all things." She is clearly less concerned about Kade's mood than Diego is, but that's unlikely to surprise anyone. "What, you want to live in that ghetto?" She challenges with an arch of a brow directed at her husband and flicks her wrist with a dissatisfied gesture. "No. That hasn't changed."

His arm wraps firmly around her as he draws her close, head bowing so that he can press a kiss to the top of her head. "You are right, Mia Amor. I just feel... " Guilty. Diego doesn't say it but it is clear what he means. His brows arch at the thought of living in Mutant Town. "No particularly," he agrees, stroking a fingertip along her bare arm. "We would have no where to put our shoes." His or hers. "I like this apartment."

He doesn't need to say it. "I know," Micaela says softly, turning her head to press a kiss to his jawline and briefly tug his earlobe between her teeth, too gentle to really seductive. It's just her way of being reassuring. "You're a good person," she murmurs with a touch of bemusement, nuzzling close. "We'd have to rent a second apartment just for a closet, yes," she agrees with a short laugh. "Me too."

Laughter rumbles through the air, throaty and low, at the tug of her teeth on his earlobe. Micaela can feel the soft weight of his hand against her hair, threading through it and caressing the curve of her head. Diego's dark eyes dance with warmth and affection, another kiss dropped to her forehead. "I love you," he says pulling her close. "And you make me very glad that I did not fall to the trend of earrings in my younger days." She likes to nibble. "I try." That is all he says of being a good person. With alcohol on his breath, he is no mood to harp on the Catholic values and virtues as he otherwise might in humor. "We would. This place is comfy."

"Much to the confusion of people," Micaela murmurs with a sharp smile and an amused twinkle in her dark eyes. The gossip papers may complain, but she doesn't do a lot of soul searching over his supposedly inexplicable relationship with her. "I love you too," she whispers, low and possessive in his ear. "Mm, I recall you having a little loop at one point..." That was before his earlobes were in danger from her errant nibbles. "You're good," she assures, giving his thigh a squeeze. "Not /too/ good, thankfully, but good. You care." She takes a deep breath and sighs. "It is."

"They are blind if they cannot see you as I do," Diego whispers fondly, drawing his fingers through her dark hair and tracing it to the tips. One finger twists around a curl gently before skimming along her shoulder. "You are passionate, self-possessed, funny, intelligent, warm, and strikingly beautiful…" Turning his head, he gently brushes his lips against hers with just a hint of heat. "It was a short affliction." The earring. "Mhmmm…. well. "

Micaela hums quietly, the throaty noise plainly pleased for Diego's touch and fond compliments. "I am all of those things," she agrees, with no obvious humility. Confidence is a virtue, right? She chuckles lowly, smiling into the brush of his lips. The air around them gets a little warmer briefly. "I do warm better than most," she teases, then flashes a grin at him. "Probably for the best, although you were cute."

Neither of them lack confidence. Diego's land hands wrap around the curve of her waist and the base of her neck as he kisses her, a soft sigh escaping him at that brief warming of air. "You certainly warm me well," he says lowly, nibbling on the line of her jaw. "Am I not cute now?"

"I try..." Micaela begins, breath catching quietly as he nibbles along her jawline. The tips of her nails dig gently into his scalp, against bristle and curl. "Now," she says, sliding a leg slowly over his lap with some slink, "You are devastatingly sexy." Her smile is a little crooked, her words a little teasing, but her eyes are full of honest warmth.

"I suppose," Diego begins, sliding his hands down her curves to grip her hips and tug her into his lap. "I'll take that as a very welcome option." Flashing her a broad and sexy grin, he leans closer to kiss her with a pointed heat.

"You /suppose/?" Micaela laughs brightly, straddling his lap. "You, who have never met a mirror he didn't like or a camera who didn't like him? You who I have actually /seen/ make someone faint?" She gives his shoulder a gentle shove, which stills abruptly when he kisses her. There's no hesitation as she leans in and responds in kind.

"I suppose," Diego purrs with a sexy grin, gripping her hips tightly and sliding his fingers down the curve of her thighs. "The mirrors, they reflect me so well." He flashes her a million dollar smile, the kind known to make his fans swoon. It carries into the warmth of his kiss, lips tender against hers with the soft slide of tongue. Breaking for only a breath, he whispers, "{The best thing I have ever seen myself in is your eyes.}"

"They do..." The words are almost lost in a breath that escapes her lips and drags along his own. Micaela isn't immune to his smile, though her reaction to it is somewhat different than a swooning fan. It's not his smile that makes her swoon. It's the heated touch of his lips, the tease of tongue that makes her breath catch. Her smile is crooked, dark eyes fixed on Diego when he breaks away and whispers. "Oh, fuck," she gasps in response. Lacking the poetry to respond in kind, she settles for capturing his lips again in a determined fever, fingers quickly loosening most of the rest of his shirt buttons.

The words cannot be completely lost as they are consumed, his mouth catching headily against hers. Micaela can feel the drag of his nose against hers, the scrape of stubble across her cheek, and the lingering heat of his mouth on hers. His teeth lightly nip at her lower lip, grinning broadly as she gasps. Diego doesn't have a chance to do much more than open his mouth to speak before Micaela's mouth is capturing his again. The zipper of her dress follows the fate of the buttons of his shirt, hot hands sliding over her shoulder blades and down the curve of her waist. Further clothes are shed as he lifts her up, her hips pinned to hers, carrying her to their bedroom.

Perhaps Diego could have gotten a few words in edgewise if he'd really wanted to, if he'd used his speed to do it, but Micaela cuts him off from the chance as best she can. In this instance, she prefers it that way. She's decided the time for talking is over. The slouch of her dress as the zipper is undone, the touch of his fingers against skin, make her laugh against his mouth, smiling wide enough to press teeth to his lips. Apparently Diego agrees that it's the time for action, instead. Her laugh rings out again, bright and nearly a squeal as he lifts her up, her arms wrapping around his leg and legs clinging tighter around his hips. She'll make him forget about his guilt. She'll make him forget about anything but her and himself.

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