Welcome to Gaia! ::

Finally, finally, Jeremiah's face went a ruddy red. It had not the previous time he had said he had come to America for him but this time it did. Made his throat constrict just a bit, made him feel as if he was at a loss to find words.

Not that different than usual.

"I think, you're missing the point," a sigh, "or you're not." His hand pressed to Algie's cheek, more so when his hand was covered. With a grunt, a hiss of pain he could not hide, he was pulling his hand away and sitting up. Jeremiah was not going to explain that he did not regret where their lives went because if they had not ... Well, they would not be them. He was allowed to feel guilty for abandoning the other, however, even all these years later.

Sitting up properly, Jeremiah scooted until he was next to Algie and could take his hand. "I'm yours, Alg," his voice was soft, Algie's hand raised and the words pressed into his palm, "I don't know any other way to say it. It's just been reinforced over and over since you came here."

Blue-green eyes were cut towards too green eyes, Jeremiah watching him as he pressed a kiss to Algie's palm.

Jeremiah was quiet a moment before he merely nodded, fingers closed tightly over Algie's. "I do, I just ..." He huffed and gave into the desire and leaned until his head was against the other's shoulder, hand still held in his own. "Speaking some of this is just satisfying whatever need that is in me to have it out there." That because he had not talked about it for so long, had ran from it and pushed it away, that he needed it out there.

He tilted his head until his nose was nudging against Algie's pulse point, Jeremiah's eyes closed. "For someone who thinks he's no good at these sort of things, you're doing just fine." He squeezed Alg's hand. "It's not that much different than we are now. Just with more time together." Then his face was moving, nose no longer against the skin of Algie's neck and his lips finding it instead. "... and this as well," he murmured, head settling back onto Alg's shoulder.

They were there own label.

If Algie asked, Jeremiah would tell him as much. The only label the detective would let himself be part of, the only one he would not fight, was the one where he was with Algie. Being with the other, around the other, existing in each other's spaces, everything made more sense when they were together. That it took him twenty some-odd years to really figure that out and accept it? That was the rub.

Jeremiah huffed at the look he was given, head only raising because Algie was nudging him back but he met the kiss. It was him this time that let out the soft, wondering sigh when their lips met. For the moment it was enough to distract him from what else he was going to say.

Jeremiah could probably talk about his feelings but he had had who knows how long to think about it. His time in other ashdown had only been a week but he did not know how long it really was. It had felt longer to him (and with Heliodora being there thirty-two thousand years ...).

"Depends," he said softly, face pressed to the other. It was much like the other night. Foreheads touching, cheek to cheek, and his lips sliding to being next to one of those pink-tipped ears. "If I ask you to stay the night would you?"

Which sounded a lot more naughtier than he meant to be. Not that they did not already crash at each other's places but he specifically wanted Algie with him.

"You'll have something different to wear." Jeremiah let out a soft chuckle, breath warm at Algie's ear, guessing at one of the other's thoughts. The sweater theft had started out unintentional but eventually he just kept doing it, taking something home that was Algie's. "... considering I've been slowly stealing your wardrobe one sweater at a time for the past year ..."

Which was telling, really, about where his heart was and had been and would always be.

Jeremiah leaned back, looking appropriately amused because huffy, pink-cheeked and pink-tipped ears was a sight he had not seen in awhile. Being called a hoodlum got a look but from Alg it was practically an endearment.

"Mm, because they're yours? Which means they're mine by proxy." His fingers nudged at Algie's side. He was feeling a little shameless at the moment. "... also we use to share wardrobe when we were younger." Not pants, though, that never ended well.

"I swear they're warmer as mine." That might only be in his head.

"I like the changes." Jeremiah colored again, rubbing a hand across his cheeks. It was a particularly interesting shade to change considering he was yellow and green in addition to the ruddy red. There was something about the way the other man was now that made him more attractive than he had been when they were young.

He squeezed Algie's hand once before he was watching both of them being rubbed together. "You didn't finish that book, did you?" Jeremiah would never turn down any form of massage and, now, any offer of heat on his back. "Unless you're just going to make jokes about my disfigurement."

Such a serious stare he was giving you Algie.

So serious.

"You're a p***k, you know that?" Jeremiah was still red, especially when those hands kept rubbing together. Jesus, he just ...

Jesus.

He pushed himself up, a painful breath escaping, and turned to offer Algie a hand to pull him up with him. "Easier for me to stretch out on the bed," and then, because he thought of it, "and bring the bottle and the glasses."

High-quality liquor plus Algie's hot hands = a good evening.