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departure

The neighbors were left numbers, the cats dropped off with Wil and Nasir as well as keys for periodic check ups on the house over the week, and both older men gave the student's home a once over (and begrudgingly agreed they lived nicely - and Nasir's appliances somehow rivaled Jeremiah's own).

With bags packed they made it to the airport in an Uber, departed with little trouble, and stuck it out for a long flight (though they managed to find ways to remain entertained).

Algie had travel anxiety, stomach clenching tension that anything and everything could go wrong, things checked and double checked, and only after they'd made it through customs at Heathrow did his tension fully bleed away.

A driver with a small sign that said 'Alg. Michelin' (why did they never get his name right?) had been sent by the publishers to take them to their hotel. Alg clutched Jeremiah's hand when he appeared with the bags.

They were back in England.

all the proper things

Jeremiah was resolutely not looking at his phone mostly because he was still somehow expecting the thing to blow up while he was gone. Yet things were alright and, moment by moment, he found himself relaxing.

The tea helped.

So did the scenery.

His foot hooked in Algie's pant leg helped the most.

"Really, Alg?" Jeremiah chuckled, setting his cup down. "It does taste better but that might just be because it's our first cup here together in a while." He tapped his shoe against Alg's leg, rubbing upwards briefly before it settled back to the ground.

"How busy is that schedule looking?"

old hunting grounds

Jeremiah was hovering outside the door to a pub they had not been to in years. Mostly because they had been kicked out and banned when they were considerably younger.

"I'm fairly certain the owner is likely still alive and still not going to let us back in," he said with a snort, looking over to his lover. Except that this place had some of the best bar food by far.

Which meant, of course, they had to come here.

old hunting grounds

"I'm sure it's fine," Alg's hand was on the door handle and he was peering in the windows. The owner had to be as old as his own dad at this point but he didn't see anyone besides a milling crowd and an aging woman behind the bar.

He hadn't gone to any of the old haunts after Jeremiah left. He had his reasons, the least of which being that they were banned from half of them.

"Besides I'm double the size now." He snorted and finally opened the door and made for a table (almost sneakily).

old hunting grounds

So far, so good.

"Yes and I'm considerably older but I'm bit of a sore thumb, Alg ..." Not that he was not slipping an arm around his lover for a quick squeeze before they went inside. It was almost hilarious the way they were sneaking towards a table.

The moment they were seated without problem, Jeremiah let out a soft chuckle. "A little like old times." A young woman came over to take their order, the taller man raising an eyebrow towards Algie. He was the one that got to pick things for meals and drinks.

old hunting grounds

"And there's a game already on," Alg nodded to the slightly older TV in the corner, "And a group of older heads than ours." Which was always reassuring. Something he'd enjoyed about Darlene's besides the quality television and beer, was there were always reliably several men in the room older and more crotchety than him.

Alg ordered them both pints, and then their two most popular orders - roast beef and fish and chips. They could share it all between them and it was nice having reliable home style food when back home.

When she moved away he glanced around, ducking his head and clapping a hand over Jeremiah's on the table top in warning when he saw the clearly wizened and older owner suddenly appear from the back.

"There he is-" Alg murmured.

old haunting grounds

"Pretty sure I recognize a couple of those older heads." Mostly because he may have busted the nose of at least one of them. Jeremiah slumped down a little in his seat like a school child trying to not be seen. Algie got a smile for making the choices, looking forward to the pints more than the food in his case.

"Bloody hell, I should've worn a hat," he grumbled, once he glanced towards the man in question. The owner had been in a war - no he would not specify what war - and took no shite at all when it had come to young hooligans. He looked like a bit trimmer version of Borr (which was probably why Jeremiah had liked Borr so much). "I somehow doubt he's forgotten."

old haunting grounds

"No he hasn't-" Algie chuckled, feeling foolish at his age hiding from an old man.

The waitress returned, this time with the pints and just as she was about to leave she paused, "Ah.. here you go."

Jeremiah was handed a beaten up old newspaper article that clearly had several pushpin holes in the top that had a picture of the bar with a shattered front window, and detailed some bar brawl gone wrong.

Alg leaned, peered, and turned pink as he slid lower and took a long sip of his drink. He refused to look at the old man.