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falling faster

It was one of the rare times that Jeremiah wished he could still smoke cigarettes. He had not been able to since he had gotten flooded with the knowledge given to him by Ezra; the taste on his tongue and throat had been nearly enough to make him throw up.

Instead he was sitting in the living room, his eyes slid shut and a shot glass in his hand. At least a third of the bottle had already disappeared and he looked a mess. Blood was still over one eye, the front of his vest tattered (bloody; ripped with what looked like finger holes).

He had thought himself past this but once in their house, once Jeremiah had been inside, he had crumpled. Failure was not something he liked and-

Another drink was taken.

falling faster

Alg came home to the quiet house but Jeremiah's car was outside. The lights were not all lit up like someone was milling around, just the normal few lamps of inactivity. In the entryway his bag was shrugged off and hung, the quiet making him already concerned.

"Jeremiah?" No smell of food cooking nor sounds from the kitchen. His head craned around the doorway to the living room and saw the silver hair, "Jeremiah.." Then he saw the bottle, and only when he'd taken a few more steps into the room did he see the blood.

The inquisitive slowness of his approach disappeared and instead turned into a bit of a rush and even more concern.

"Jer-" Alg was beside him on the sofa in moments, hands on him and looking for wounds.

falling faster

Jeremiah's hand, the one without a shot glass in it, reached and curled around Algie's wrist. His hand was chill, colder than it should have been, but there was - not unlike his husband after the ball - a muted sense of feeling. The taller man was there and he was clearly upset for all that he seemed to be calmly drinking but it was muted with the cold.

"It isn't-" he frowned momentarily and started again. "It is my blood but there's no wounds, Alg."

intuition

It was a lazy day which meant that Jeremiah was laying with his head in Algie's lap and playing on his 3DS while the other man alternated between writing in one of his notebooks and played on his own 3DS.

He tapped at the screen with the stylus a couple times before he was tilting his face towards Algie's stomach and rubbing his cheek. It wasn't the same but Jeremiah did enjoy the solidness that the other had now.

"How's the writing?" Jeremiah asked, blue-green eyes closed to lazy slits and glancing upwards. With his manuscript having been finished by Adze ... Algie had been left with being able to move onto the next book. He knew it still bothered his husband, that it had been done, but ...

i found

"No.." Alg turned his head toward Jeremiah, kissing him on the jaw before glancing at the package. "And it doesn't look familiar."

There was something baking in the oven and he was currently cooking something green on the stove.

"Not sure I like people just coming in and leaving things..." Alg frowned, though there was the reality that it wasn't a someone.. perhaps a something or perhaps it just magically appeared.

falling faster

"I owe Sunny nothing anymore," he said quietly, fingers squeezing Algie's softly. The tattered front of his clothing carried a dark implication that she had tried to take his heart. They had known it was coming, especially with Heliodora's death. With all three of them dead, there was no hope that he would ever see them home.

"She's taken," something broke briefly in his voice, fingers tightening around Alg's, "her price for breaking the deal."

intuition

His head would rub upwards briefly, pressing into Algie's hand because he had started keeping his hair a touch longer since he had come back. Something that set him apart from the fetch that had lead his life for those weeks.

"When we're dealing with all the things that are supposed to not be real ..." Jeremiah cracked open an eye, blue-green focused on Algie. His fingers came up and brushed against the other man's cheek, affection and love and understanding there.

"You've had some other ideas you've tossed around, how about those instead? Or short stories?"

i found

"Unless it's some person you put away sending a bomb in the mail," There was almost a laugh in his voice about how much more normal that would be at this point.

The gasp had him looking but he couldn't see much without moving away from the stove.

"What is it?"