Albert Heinrich (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
silberfuchs) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
makinglies2013-10-07 08:03 pm
silberfuchs) wrote in makinglies2013-10-07 08:03 pm
Entry tags:
Just the sniffles
[It's very rare that any of the cyborgs ever get sick. After all, when building an advanced super weapon you don't want it to succumb to disease. It's not unheard of, they do still have organic parts, but for as long as Albert had been a cyborg, he'd never once fallen ill.
Until today, that is.
It takes his eyes longer than usual to focus when he opens them in the morning, woken by Jet rolling out of bed. That in and of itself is his first clue, that Jet is up before him. The man may not sleep until noon as he used to but Albert's still usually a much earlier riser, or at least gets up at the same time. Yet here he is still huddled under the blankets while Jet brushes his teeth in his boxers, with absolutely no drive to leave the bed.
His vision is fuzzy, his head aches, and what little real skin he has is cold and clammy (a strange sensation when only roughly fifteen percent of your body is honest flesh) save for his face, which feels hot.
With a groan, Albert curls over with the comforter, his steel-gray hair barely visible peeking up from the bundle of blankets.]
Until today, that is.
It takes his eyes longer than usual to focus when he opens them in the morning, woken by Jet rolling out of bed. That in and of itself is his first clue, that Jet is up before him. The man may not sleep until noon as he used to but Albert's still usually a much earlier riser, or at least gets up at the same time. Yet here he is still huddled under the blankets while Jet brushes his teeth in his boxers, with absolutely no drive to leave the bed.
His vision is fuzzy, his head aches, and what little real skin he has is cold and clammy (a strange sensation when only roughly fifteen percent of your body is honest flesh) save for his face, which feels hot.
With a groan, Albert curls over with the comforter, his steel-gray hair barely visible peeking up from the bundle of blankets.]
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Whatever.
[He knew Albert was just avoiding the topic, but that was fine. Dancing wasn't really fun without a willing partner anyway. He'd just have to steal Frannie for a dance again sometime.
His attention shifts to the newlyweds and his smirk turns into a soft smile.]
Yeah...it's about time, really. If Joe'd had the nerve to ask her himself, it probably would have happened years ago.
[Which only reminded him of the conversation he and Joe had had, the same one he'd been trying to ignore all night long. It was hard not to think about weddings when you were involved in one.]
Guess I can't blame him, though, it's hard putting yourself out there like that.
[Hard like saying that three word phrase for the first time or even just admitting you have feelings for a guy in the first place. But maybe he should...he'd already sort of insinuated that he was thinking about it, right? Maybe Albert would bring it up.
Unless he didn't want to talk about it.
Round and round his thought process went and he reached out to snag Albert's scotch so he could take a sip.]
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[He glances at Jet snatching up his glass, an affectionate smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.]
Being afraid of rejection, of losing what you already have...
[Fingers drum lightly on the tablecloth as Albert's gaze falls again on the white and black that is Francoise and Joe slowly revolving on the dance floor to "The Way You Look Tonight".]
It's a terrifying prospect, even if the other possible result would be worth it. That's a supreme amount of trust to show someone.
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It was a lot of trust to show someone and everything indicated there'd be nothing wrong with asking Albert how he felt about it for himself. Even if he wasn't interested, it wasn't like Albert would phrase it in such a way to purposefully hurt Jet or anything, he'd do the complete opposite and try to do it as gently as possible.
He knew that, at least.
And, while the blond would like to think he could do the same--even if he wouldn't be giving that kind of answer--he was notorious for sticking his foot down his throat, so he'd likely just end up messing things up. Maybe he should be the one to do it and let his partner handle the part that required tact.
Maybe.
Or maybe he could continue sitting there in silence. Being a coward.]
Hey....Al...have you, you know, ever thought about it? You know, trying to get married to someone again?
[Not with him, obviously, just in general.
Yeah.
He was just going to pretend the heat in his face was from the alcohol he'd ingested tonight.]
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[The answer comes perhaps a bit too quickly and Albert's gaze remains fixed on their friends with a subtle shift of intensity. He's no longer paying attention to the gentle sway of newlyweds; his attention has turned decidedly inward, but he doesn't look at Jet out of fear that the one word was the wrong one.]
Rather, I've given it thought.
[Such a difference. Not.]
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....he'd already come this far, if he was going to stick his foot in it, he might as well do it all the way.]
...And...would you want to? Get married?
[His voice went a little softer and it was incredibly impossible to look over at the other cyborg now. Surely he was about to die on the spot from this much insecurity and embarrassment. But, although his face's color was growing by the second, he somehow managed to keep his voice even despite the lower volume.]
Maybe to me?
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Slowly, carefully, he turns his head to look at Jet, a blush painting his own cheeks and the tops of his ears. With a very deliberate movement, designed as if Jet were a bird that would flit away at any sudden motion, Albert reaches over and places his hand over the blond's, his expression falling into something bewildered and overwhelmed but altogether loving. It's not unlike the look he gives Jet when they make love, or even just when he passes by Jet in the kitchen and feels compelled to plant a kiss on his cheek before going on about his day. He may have doubted it in their darkest moments, when Jet had left and he hadn't been certain if he'd ever see Jet again, but he'd never doubted their feelings for each other and if Jet's asking him this...]
My life is better for having you in it.
[He squeezes Jet's hand, murmuring softly against the backdrop of the music. He's totally not tearing up, shush.]
There's no worthier cause to dedicate it to than you.
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With that expression on him and those words slowly processing, he finds his mouth has gone dry and he can't find anything to say. Albert had always been better at words than the blond and now...something like that, he didn't know what to say to it. He wasn't that eloquent.
So he defaulted. Slowly, he turned his hand under Albert's and threaded their fingers together. Once his eyes are locked with his partners, he was certain every emotion he was feeling was clear in his eyes, but he could also see how wet those silver eyes were threatening to be and that loving look in full that was directed at him, was there because of him. It made him smile a little as he leaned forward, his other hand reaching across to Albert's cheek, as he pressed their lips together gently.]
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With Jet at his side, he can.
A choked little chuckle escapes him as he pulls back just slightly, running his hand across his eyes to clear them.]
Ich liebe dich mit ganzem Herzen, Spätzchen.
[He knows Jet will understand, not just thanks to the translators. Words from the soul are always understood.
I love you with all my heart, Sparrow.]
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The words put a lump in his throat and his eyes sting as he presses their foreheads together.]
I love you too...['with all of my heart' but the words get stuck behind that lump.
He closes his eyes a moment, reigning in the emotions that had flooded him, before finding those silver eyes again.]
Hey...think we can get out of here? [The tiniest hint of a smirk touched his lips at the cheesy words he knew were about to come out of his mouth.] I want to take you home.
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He'd never thought he could find this again, this peace and happiness. Contentment. Portions of it, yes. He was comfortable, had family, friends, but this. Love. This is the hole in him that Jet had filled, the place in his life that conforms so neatly around the blond, so perfectly. It's not even frightening anymore, just exciting and overwhelming and Right. There's a rightness that he almost expected but never could describe, never could prepare for, but to be able to call Jet his, officially in the eyes of god and everyone when he thought that wasn't something Jet had ever wanted is elating.
To be able to soon look down at a ring on his finger and match it with one on Jet's.
To know, unequivocally, that with him is where Jet wants to be, no matter what happens in their lives.
To know Jet knows that of him too.
A physical proof of that feeling.
It's enough to make him tear up just a little again and lean down into another kiss before his brash, handsome, intensely loving, perfect American can rise to his feet.]
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He returned the kiss for all he was worth before breaking it and standing, his hand only curling more tightly around Albert's. He spared their friends a final glance, smiling a bit at how they couldn't even see anything else around each other and led his German from the room. They'd have cleaning duties tomorrow, but that could wait until then.
Hand-in-hand, he led them back home and refused to let go even then. It wasn't until they were up in their room and Jet was pulling Albert in for another kiss before another second passed that he even thought about loosening his grip.]