makinglies | Til the siren come calling

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Til the siren come calling

"We appreciate your hard work. We have one last mission for you."

The words rang through his mind and made him burn with anger and betrayal. He tried to make his body move, to force it to get up and fight back, to stop the Lazarus from doing whatever it was about to do as it approached, but he couldn't move except to squirm and flinch.

The zombie cyborg knelt down beside him and put a hand on his head, tilting it back to expose his neck as something bit into the human skin there. He watched as Void left the room, unconcerned with what was going on behind him and Jet's thoughts slowly slipped away. Then there was something else in his head. A voice was whispering to him, a familiar voice..someone he could trust; there was nothing but that voice and it's reminder how there was someone who betrayed him...no, multiple someones, people he'd trusted and thought wanted him around but were just using him, he needed to get back at them.

Istanbul. That was where they were.

'Go! Go! Traitors don't deserve to live anyway.' It whispered and he listened. His jets burned hot as they propelled him into the sky, indiscriminate of the building around him, it didn't matter, there was no time to waste.

He flew as fast as he could for the Gilmore Foundation.

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"I'm not asking you to be perfect. I don't think I'm asking the impossible either, and I'm not trying to hurt you with this. I want to make it work." He leans back in his chair, folding arms over his stomach loosely and meeting Jet's eyes again. "I just need some stability. I need to know that you'll be here and that you'll communicate with me."

He lets the words hang for a moment, watching Jet. It's obvious the conversation is just as uncomfortable for him as it is for Albert, but the added dimension of looking like a kicked puppy, of endless remorse and hurt, makes Albert want to forget talking and just gather the younger man up. Instead he just leans forward to take Jet's hands in his own. "I'm not saying this to be cruel. I want this to work. I-..."

Funny. He'd said it before, but now those three simple words get stuck in his throat. He squeezes Jet's hands. "I need you."

Those words and the way Albert faultered at first reminded Jet of the dream he'd had before waking up hours ago. But what if it wasn't a dream? People didn't really dream when they died, what if he 'd actually heard Albert say those words and they hadn't just been a spurt of the moment deceleration? Maybe, but now wasn't the time to ask, not when it wouldn't really matter if they couldn't work through this.

"I already said I'm not going to leave, that applies to you as much as everyone else. More than, if you want me around like I'd like to be." Communication...it had never been his sting suit, not in words and while his words had gotten better, he'd talked less and less with no one around that he actually wanted to talk to. But that didn't mean he was incapable.
"But, yes, I can promise to try. I want to put everything into making it work again. I know you don't deserve anything less."

He squeezed Albert's hands in his, hoping the pressure or at least the movement wouldn't go unnoticed since he doubted the other man could actually feel it. He just needed to try and get his point across in case his words didn't make it... But he had to try and say it as part of that very thing he said he'd try to do better at. "I need you too. More than I've ever wanted or needed anyone.that's why...I want a second chance, so I can show that to you better."

"Then you have it." He wants this more than anything but he's frightened, he's so terribly frightened that something else will happen to rip them apart, something that will call for a sacrifice again and Jet's been saved twice now. The first time was luck. The second was a miracle. There likely wouldn't be a third. And that's not something he can prepare for by keeping Jet at arm's length.

There's also not knowing if the younger man can keep his temper or if he'll run out on Albert again. He'd promised, yes, but in the heat of an argument it would hardly be the first thing on his mind. They used to simply function that way, arguing until Jet left to cool his head and then returning to be more civil, Albert secure in the knowledge that Jet would be back because he always comes back and a bit of that distance is healthier. And then he hadn't come back. And now Albert can't be certain that if Jet flew off the handle as he used to, he would make his way home again.

He'll have his second chance, the German means that with all his heart, but there will be conditions.

"Gilmore has some safe houses dotted around the world, several right here in Venice close by, or near the Foundation HQ in Istanbul. I'm certain he'd give you the keys to one if you ask." Or if he hadn't already while they were all catching up and Albert hadn't heard. "I'd... prefer if you were close by, though."

It was a roller coaster of emotions in the span of a few seconds, going from hopeful to gutted and back to hopeful. He'd gotten his second chance but for just a moment he thought Albert would rather Jet be countries away instead of in the same area until the older cyborg had continued.

He'd forgotten how easy it was for Albert to control Jet's emotional state, even while Jet was fairly certain he had no idea he was doing it.

After years alone, it was a little frightening how easy it still was for Albert to do that. He hadn't realized how much he still loved Albert until they'd been within arm's reach again.

It occurred to him exactly the kind of position he was putting himself in: if he used his time to show Albert what sort of man he was now and the German decided he was too different or just not what he wanted anymore, then Jet would find that door closed to him for good. He'd speant several years thinking Albert hadn't wanted him, so he had an idea of how much that would hurt but, this time, it would be worse because it wouldn't be percieved, it's be real and ir wouldn't be because of what Jet lacked but what he'd gained and could no longer change.

It would be safer to say all that now, to explain why this might be a bad idea and that maybe they should just go back to what they'd been before Jet had mentioned anything way back when.

But that would also be the cowardly way and that wasn't the sort of person he was. Besides, he could also remember just how happy he'd been when things had been good...just the possibility of that was worth the risk, even if the fear of potentially losing the one thing most important to him caused ice to form in his stomach.

Finally, he came back to himself and nodded, hesitated,then slowly pulled his hands away again. He didn't really know what he was or wasn't allowed to do, could he hold Albert's hand? Kiss him? Or was he supposed to pretend they were just starting out again? He'd enver even done a real relationship before Albert, much less any scenario in which he had to fix one. Another potential way to screw it up.

"I'll ask Gilmore for one around here tomorrow, then. For now, I'll just crash at Pyunma's or something." He was aware how painfully awkward he must be holding himself with how at a loss he was with what he was supposed to do with himself, but he tried to cover as best he could. He took a step back away from the table, glancing to the door before looking at Albert again. "Good night, Al."

"Good night, Jet."

He knows what he said, he knows he should stick to his guns and work through this slowly, something like an average couple learning to trust again. He should let there be some distance because wounds don't heal if they're constantly poked at.

But the sight of Jet starting for the door hurts more than the thought of him staying and though he still maintains he should stay with the plan he finds himself speaking up instead as he gets to his feet.

"Wait."

A pause. He can't meet Jet's eyes, can't let him see the indecision there.

"It's... it's late. One night here won't hurt anything."

He hopes.

Jet hesitated and felt an invisible hand squeeze tight in his chest; Jet didn't need to see it to know Albert was being indecisive. He doubted Albert mean to--he just wasn't that kind of man--but he felt toyed with and it was making all of this a lot harder than it was already.

Why was he being like this? Usually once Albert made a call that serious he stuck to it for more than five seconds, so what was it? He thought past his own fears and worries and uncertainties and tried to look from Albert's perspective and what must be going through his head based on what he'd already revealed. And then it just sort of clicked into place.

He gave a small sigh and turned back towards the other man. When he spoke, his voice was even but there was pain, pain he knew he wasn't the only one feeling. "Al...you're kinda yanking me around here. I get it or at least I think I do so correct me if I'm wrong but, you want this a whole hell of a lot, a lot more than we've really said and you kinda just want to skip all of this messy business because it would be easier and we've already done the separation thing for a while now, but...you're scared.

You're scared something won't work out and I'll leave again, you've made it obvious you think I'm still likely to do that. You think maybe something'll happen and I'll go off and die again, I get that, my track record isn't exactly clean. You're afraid this won't work somehow and then you'll just end up with a broken heart all over again."

He paused, letting that sink in as he crossed his arms over his chest, a subconscious gesture considering he was about to do what he'd just done to Albert only to himself. It was different talking about other people's fears than it was talking about your own. Maybe because he could be wrong about Albert's, but he wasn't wrong about his own.

"Thing is...I'm scared too. I'm terrified. I want this a whole hell of a lot too, more than I know I can say and I certainly don't want this messy stuff when things have been messy for years now, my own fault I know, but that's part of it too. I just want something to hold on to, something solid that I know won't slip through my fingers because the dust hasn't settled yet, I don't know where I stand now that I've miraculously made my way back.

I know I'm not going to leave. Being here with you, with the others, that's all I've wanted for the last few decades, I just never knew I could come back and get it if I wanted. But what I don't know is if I'm going to try my damnedest with this only to loose it again anyway.

I've changed, I'm not perfect, but I've done some growing up and not everything's the way you remember. But...there's no guarantee you're gonna like what you find, I don't mean you'll hate it, but maybe it--I'm not what you'll want anymore."

He hesitated again, arms closing tighter around his middle, but he forced his eyes up in an attempt to catch those silver ones he was looking for. "That terrifies me more than dying ever could. I...care about you more than anyone I've ever known and whatever it was that made you go with me before, I hope to hell and back I've still got cause I don't really want to go now that I'm here. But if leaving is what you want--what you decide you want, then that's what I'll do. The only way I'm leaving is if you tell me to."

He was rambling, he could hear it, he could hear how what he was trying to say was laced in all off the words he'd used, words he so rarely had before and only seemed to be able to muster when he forced them now, but he could muster them. But now that well had dried up and he was left standing, waiting, for the final call before he moved an inch back towards the door or more into the house.

It takes Albert far too long to respond after Jet finishes. He feels raw and exposed, Jet able to see right into him as if he's made of glass, all the working parts on display so neatly. He feels just that fragile too, standing there staring at the floor as if it will rise up and offer some solution.

"I thought you didn't want me." Even his voice is fragile, a fact he despises and he folds his arms across his chest as if they could act as a shield. "I thought, we all thought, that you'd finished with us entirely. For nearly thirty years, Jet. For thirty years I thought you'd found some other life you liked better that I wasn't a part of. Of course I'm hesitating, and of course you've changed, so have I in being apart for that long.

"I don't have any answers either. I don't know how this will work or what we even are to each other now, but I know..." His voice softens, even more vulnerable. "I know what it feels like to lose someone you love. I know that more than most, though God knows I wish I didn't. But it felt the same as before. I don't think that has changed."

That heart-wrenching reeling feeling of being broken yourself because your other half is gone. He hadn't spoken of it to anyone save Francoise in the time between Jet and Joe's mission and their return today, and even then he hadn't said much, more listened. He'd thought she'd cracked a little, saying how He would make it right. How He wouldn't give them challenges they couldn't overcome. So he'd thought she'd cracked or was at least grasping at straws to keep them both afloat.

But she'd turned out to be right, whether she'd known all along or it came as as much of a surprise to her as the rest of them.

"Do you... do you believe in fate?" he hesitated to ask, his voice a low rumble with his eyes still on the floor. It's a ridiculous question and Albert generally isn't much for mysticism but there are more things in the world than the human consciousness can comprehend, and perhaps there is something, God or otherwise, making sure that these second chances, these miracles, happen.

Slowly he lifts his face, meeting Jet's eyes for the first time in the last few minutes. His own expression is still careworn and drawn but there's a light in his eyes that wasn't there before, something pushing through the doubt. "Stay here tonight. I can't promise it will be like nothing happened, but I want to try."

For Jet, he'll try anything.

He didn't believe in fate, too much had gone wrong for him to be okay with believing it had been decided for him, he'd rather think that, despite all the bad, all the good had been because he'd worked for it and not because it was in some script somewhere. But he wasn't going to mention any of that, the question seemed fairly rhetorical anyway.

What he did believe in was the fact Albert had referred to him as someone he loved and it reminded him again of hearing those words, words he was thinking more and more weren't just something he'd made up but might have actually been said to him.

Jet knew he felt that way, it had taken time but he'd reconciled the word he knew with the feeling he didn't, but knowing Albert felt the same, even after everything the blond had done,that it was something he was feeling now, that gave him more hope than anything else. It was the cement they needed to try and make it work again, once they found the building blocks they needed.

He nodded, words still failing him for the moment. He took a step, hesitated, then closed the distance between them and pulled the older cyborg into a tight but encompassing embrace. Simple in what it was, but not so simple in the feelings behind it or the way Jet tried his hardest to wrap himself around Albert entirely. It held everything he'd been trying to say in it.

Albert lets the breath he hadn't even been aware he was holding out all at once as Jet pulls him close. There's barely a moment of hesitation as the older cyborg brings his up too, crossing under Jet's arms to rest his fingers just at the taller man's shoulders and keeping him as close as possible and burying his face in Jet's neck.

All the years apart and he still fits perfectly right here.

He stays like that for a long time, close as he can get and pressed into Jet as if he can't quite believe he's really there and as long as he keeps his arms around him he won't vanish. There are so many things Albert wants to say, wants to share, moments that happened apart that he wishes Jet had been there for, all the things that happened to Jet for which he was absent. It hurts to think how much they've missed, but there's an element of joy there too, of having the chance to share it now even if he doesn't have the words quite yet.

Those will come later. For now he'd prefer a small measure of action and slowly, deliberately, Albert lifts himself on his toes to press a timid and chaste but still altogether overwhelmingly loving kiss to Jet's lips.

This was different than the kiss Albert had risked in the hopes it would break Jet free of His Voice, this had caution but it was stronger, like it belonged there.

Albert's lips on his had always felt like that. Not an electric spark, but something constant and comforting and right.

His hands shifted only enough to support the German against the blond's body, holding him there so Jet could carefully return the kiss. He didn't deepen it much, still following Albert's lead, but he poured his emotions and wants and needs into it, every scrap of love he felt for the other man.

He would break away when Albert wanted, but he kept the shorter man fitted to him, not willing to lose that contact just yet.

It feels silly to have that pressure on his chest again, the weight of emotion that he'd managed to keep under wraps for so long but now keeps pricking his eyes in the form of tears. He'd been a crier as a child and worked hard to shove it down and away because showing that sort of weakness was unbecoming of a man. He still feels it is, for him. Not for things like loss and death, but from this? That's more feminine than he considers himself.

And yet one single tear rolls down his cheek as he kisses Jet and holds him desperately. There's nothing intense enough about the kiss itself to bring it on. No Hollywood passion, no teeth or tongue, just the gentle softness of Jet's lips against his own, slightly chapped and altogether ordinary. But it's enough that it makes Albert's mind go white and placid and he finally recognizes the lump in his throat and the weight on his chest for what it is.

He's happy. For the first time in such an unbearably long time, Albert is happy.

Albert wasn't moving, wasn't shying away, wasn't changing his mind and that gave Jet more hope than he already had. It made him a little bolder too.

With Albet pressed to him like he was, it was just serving to remind him that the only person he wanted to be with in every sense was in his arms for the first time in a long time. Honestly, he wanted him. Badly. But it wasn't just the physical, he wanted the emotional connection that always came with it.

His lips traveled lightly from the other man's to his chin, his hand darting up to swipe away that tear before resting on Albert's cheek. Lips moved from chin to jaw to cheek to the soft patch of skin just below Albert's neck.

"Albert...I want you. Let me take care of you tonight. Please."

It's the opposite of what he knows he should do. He shouldn't even be letting Jet stay the night, let alone share his bed. He should be cautious and careful and put his foot down, close the distance slowly an work things out thoroughly before wading in again. Logical and plain.

Instead his heart flutters at Jet stating so plainly that he's wanted and tosses all his thoughts and caution to the wind. He plants a kiss to Jet's hand and clasps it tightly in his, stepping softly to lead him towards the wrought iron stairs up to the loft.

Jet's own heart flutters when he's not turned down and in fact led up the stairs by Albert. It made him feel like he had when this was new and they didn't quite know where to step just yet. Which, on second thought, was what this was with just a little more experience and a few hints mixed in.

He followed quietly up to the German's room and waited for the door to be closed before making another move. His hand entwined with Albert's stayed where it was for the moment, while the other returned to the older man's face, running over contours and angles that he already knew so well but had the need to study all over again. If anything at all had changed, he wanted to learn it.

His lips returned to their soft, feather-light brushes against every part of Albert's face he could find, only stopping when he'd turned to press one to the soft skin at his neck. He knew that was the fastest way to get a response from Albert, but he was going to go slow and give the other man the attention he deserved.

Jet pulled away again, but only to lead them to Albert's bed, tugging the German into sitting so Jet could use both hands now to find the sides of his face and allow him the leverage to deliver a much stronger and deeper kiss, but still altogether gentle.

"The jacket...and your shirt. I'd like to take them off. The gloves too."

Edited 2014-01-11 00:29 (UTC)

At first he thinks it's a silly thing to ask as he sits there, eyes trained on Jet in a sort of daze. He's been touching too, gentle hands so reminiscent of their first time in his reticent brushes of fingers, unsure of where he's allowed. It's silly but it's not; even though Albert's been exposed in front of Jet already, just within the last few days from the waist up, it is still all new again after so long apart. He finds himself flushing just a little, though that's in no small part thanks to the attention Jet pays to his neck.

"Alright." He looks up at Jet from under his fringe, surprising even himself with his lack of hesitation. If he's to be bold, then why not one step further? Albert reaches out to clasp the hem of Jet's coat. "Yours too."

Jet pauses a moment but nods. He didn't really take his clothes off in front of people anymore, not without those panels in place, yet where he expected to find a coil of uncertainty and awareness of the lines dividing his body into sections, he found...nothing. Nothing but a sort of calm.

If there was anyone he could take his clothes off in front of and not feel anything but accepted, it was Albert. Besides, it was only fair and he'd be lying if there wasn't some silly thrill at the thought of it, maybe it was because he felt so certain and calm.

He stripped the green jacket first, letting it fall to the floor before slowly and carefully sliding the gloves off Albert's metal hands. and letting them drop into the same pile. He had adopted the habit of folding his nicer outfits even if he was taking them off, but tonight everything was going into the same pile without a second thought.

He switched between them, making it take longer to undress but keeping them even in how much clothing they lost. Albert's jacket, Jet's suit jacket and vest. Albert's shirt, Jet's shirt. Albert's pants, Jet's pants. Boxers and briefs stayed where they were, the blond moving to push Albert back onto the bed once the last of their outerwear was shed. Every touch and movement was slow, gentle, careful. Precise in a care used when handling something precious.

Because he was.

That level of care continued with Jet's attentions shift to Albert himself. Blue eyes ran the length of the body before him, taking in every detail he hadn't allowed himself to dwell on when shown the brief glimpse before. A lot of it was the same if not similar, but the parts that were different were quickly committed to memory.

The moment of study passed and Jet shifted so he was straddling the German's thighs, his hands placed on Albert's shoulders, both for support and to mark where their exploration was to begin. But first he leaned down to begin those soft near-reverent kisses on Albert's chin, then took them down to his neck which he lavished in the attention it deserved, though it was still light and loving instead of rough and need driven.

There's still the self consciousness in Albert. It's lessened over the years - even someone as slow as he is to get comfortable with things eventually reached that point after decades - but with Jet so careful and warm it rises up in the form of color to his face and neck, even the tops of his ears. Were his shoulders not sleek metal grafting he likely would be blushing there too so powerful is the feeling of vulnerability. But it's not an uncomfortable feeling, just overwhelming and it stays Albert's hands even if he wanted to help either of them disrobe. He merely sits there, transfixed and spurred to reaction by Jet's actions.

There's another flutter and a twist in his stomach as Jet shifts them both further onto the bed, his eyes roaming over every dip and rise in the older cyborg's body much as Albert had done to him so many times. He swallows, realizing over again that the sight is new to the blond, that his upgrades were spoken of but never seen as such since his casing had been off. He looks up from under his brows to watch Jet's eyes map him out, giving a little shiver in spite of himself.

So intent is he on watching the younger man that he's a bit startled when Jet slides himself into his lap instead of beside him, though the chance is welcome and Albert raises his hands to Jet's arms as if to show it, curling cool metal fingers lightly around his biceps. The first string of kisses earns a soft and breathy 'oh' from him and a shift of one hand to the back of Jet's neck, still light and fingers winding in the tufts of hair at his nape. Gently, he turns his head just a little and presses the corner of his lips against Jet's temple, not wanting to disturb the blond from his actions but offering what encouragement he can in his utterly overcome state.

He was tempted to lean up and kiss those lips again, but he decided to wait in favor of continuing to press soft kisses to every inch of Albert Jet found under them.

His hands slid down from the older man's shoulders to his upper arms, elbow, lower arms, Jet moving further down Albert's body to match. Every movement was slow, each pass of hand on skin and metal was the blond learning and mapping while each kiss was purposeful and made to demonstrate the American's adoration for every inch, every aspect, of the other man.

He'd messed this up and now he was going to try and fix it and part of that was showing Albert what he could only scratch the surface of with his words; how he loved the man under him with every fiber of his being even in the face of years of pain and idiocy, how that hadn't changed all that time.

He wanted Albert to know he was wanted, desired, needed, things Jet knew he hadn't shown when he'd flown off and never come back.

Role reversal, that has to be what it is. This is familiar, so very familiar, but he knows he hasn't been on this end of the situation before. He's in mind of that first real fight they'd had, one where he'd been... not in the wrong, but nervous, too nervous to push through it and acknowledge what he really wanted until he'd gotten a proverbial slap in the face. It may have been over a quarter century ago, but it's crystal clear to Albert right now how he must have made Jet feel with his refusal of intimacy, with parting ways on that note.

Unwanted, rejected...

And now? Now that Jet's hands map every little stretch of skin or metal, his eyes roaming and committing merits and flaws alike? Is this how Jet felt that foggy fall night in New York when they'd finally settled into each other and found they fit just right?

It shouldn't be surprising, he tells himself over the lump in his throat. It shouldn't be because ever since they were remodeled, it's been Jet. It's always been Jet.

Albert's arms slip more tightly around Jet, silver hair brushing Jet's pale shoulder as he buries his face in its slope, hiding his expression and knowing Jet will ask what's wrong but unable to stop himself. It's so incredibly intense and relieving, having that which he never thought he'd have again.

Jet's movements pause as he finds himself in a tighter embrace than before and he feels Albert burying his face in the blond's shoulder.

Concern flares and he finds himself wrapping his own arms around the other man, cradling that silver head in his hands in an attempt to comfort whatever had just run through it.

"Albert? Hey...what's the matter?"

He didn't think it was anything he had done at least, if he had done something wrong, he didn't figure this would be the other man's reaction to it. Still, he was worried, he didn't trust his ability to read Albert as well as he used to--not yet--so if there was something wrong, he wasn't certain he'd catch on to it.

Although...there was one thing that occurred to him since the hold was restricting what he'd been doing before.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No, I..." he cuts himself off with a swallow, licking his lips and trying to find the right phrasing, to not let his voice waver so much. One moment's pause turns into three or four as his mind skates around the point, the logical half telling him he should stop this right now, should talk and be cautious, to wait and see.

The emotional half plants its metaphorical boot right up logic's ass and spurs him to finally speak again.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I never called, that we made you think you didn't have anywhere to go, that we've been apart for so long and missed so much." Albert's hands go to Jet's arms, cold metal palms against forearms, grasping gently as he tilts his head back to meet the younger man's eyes. "I'm sorry I let you down. I'm sorry we've missed so much time."

Growing quieter, Albert simply rests his forehead low on Jet's chest, curling into the man in his lap with undercurrents of both sorrow and relief buoying up his words. "I'm sorry I can't just forget it."

Het's quiet a while himself, his only immediate reaction was to curl more around the older man, holding his head to the blond's chest and pressing a kiss to Albert's temple in an effort to calm the raging thoughts he knows are plaguing the German.

When he does finally speak, it's with careful, calm, surety. It was a tone he'd used rarely before but had learned to cultivate over the years. People often believed you better if it sounded like you believed you.

"Albert, you know why I know I'm not going to leave again? Because I can't forget it either, I can't forget what it was like the first time and I won't let myself forget so that I won't have to feel that again. Don't tell me I have to remind you about 'learning from our mistakes.' If we forget we can't learn.

But just because we can't forget doesn't mean we can't move on."

He went silent again, this time pulling away enough to sit up so his hands could find the sides of Albert's face and blue eyes could lock with silver.

"But that's why I want you to tell me what you need. I want to move on with you, so I want to do this right." He didn't think he could stand it if Albert decided Jet was a mistake he needed to learn from.

"I need..." It's a soft admission even if Albert's plenty certain Jet knows already. "I need--"

His breath catches and instead of more words he simply leads forward and captures Jet's lips against his, pouring every bit of himself into that kiss. Every feeling of heartbreak, every bit of the terrifying crushing loneliness he'd felt in the years after his ire had faded. And every bit of joy at Jet's return too. All the love, all the doubt, all the happiness and sorrow, every modicum of feeling and life, vibrant and overflowing in that kiss.

All because of Jet. All because he planted the seed in Albert so long ago.

Just by talking through a grate.

When he pulls away it's not far. His hands against Jet's neck, his thumbs brushing against that sharp jaw as he repeats what he'd already said before, but this time with so much more feeling. "I need you."

As quickly as doubts and fears had danced at the edge of his mind, they were chased away by that kiss and completely locked out by the following words. He'd heard them earlier, but accompanied with that kiss that said so much and tore Jet apart before putting him back together with it's intensity, he could feel them more than hear them.

It made him a little bolder.

He brought his hands up to cover Albert's, eyes never leaving the German's. "When I woke up here in Venice, I'd dreamed something, something from when I was falling. At first, I let it go because I'd thought that maybe I'd made it up in my head, considering, but...Albert, did you try to tell me you loved me?"

The words were a little faltering and felt weird on his tongue, but not a bad weird and that gave him the push to keep going without waiting for an answer. If he didn't say it now, he wasn't going to.

"Because I do too. I love you. Always have-" He smirked self-consciously but held eye contact despite how desperately he was wishing for that fringe of hair back that made it so easy to hide his eyes in. "-and I haven't ever said that to anyone because I've never felt it, so just take it, okay?"

Edited 2014-01-14 04:07 (UTC)

So Jet had heard him. With no mention until now, Albert thought he hadn't, but bringing it up turns him a brilliant shade of scarlet and elicits an involuntary laugh, both at that and at Jet's forceful and blunt reciprocation. It also makes him feel so much better about all this.

"Yes, I said it." He swallows, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Being able to hear Jet say it back, even after all this time, sets much of the tension out of him. "After that first time, I didn't want you to go not knowing."

One hand moves to run back through Jet's hair, threading between the strands gently. "Perhaps it's selfish, but hearing you say it back now makes me feel much better."

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