infomodder | IC contact [Mask or Menace]

You should use them. Yeah. Whatever. Come if you want.

[If he wants? Good Lord, of course he wants Jeff. Who doesn't want Jeff? It's that Jeff Winger, he's so hot right now. Literally, since he's done work with the devil.

Anyway.

Jeff will find his door opening shortly after he sends that text. Like maybe Will was in his room doing something boring and plaid and jumped up as soon as he got permission, did that thing where he kept his steps slower because otherwise he'd bolt right to his destination. And looking at him in the threshold, holding onto the doorknob, it's clear he was careful with his timing to not seem too invested in Jeff Winger's presence. He's gripping that knob like it's the only thing keeping him in place, for God's sake. A moment to mentally digest that this is reality and not just one of the nicest dreams Will's had in a long time is all it takes for his face to break out in a smile. Even if Jeff looks different from what Will last knew, he's still here. He still texted him in a way that made it obvious he remembered him. He's back. He's home.

And Will Graham has the slap happy face of a man who's watched an old, beloved friend come around without warning, relief and joy and everything that makes a friendship good. A real friendship, not the sort where they actively work to destroy each other, not an absolutely terrible understanding of friendship that is so far from what friendship should be it's almost laughable if it weren't so sad, if Will wasn't right inside of it.]

Porter really likes you. [Amazingly? Take out Porter and put in I. Works the same.] I'm glad to have you back.

[Now kiss.]

[Jeff's busied himself with straightening his bedsheets rather than address the bigger issue of having vanished for a year and return in the space of a day. The Porter hadn't exactly caught him at the best of times, but then that seemed to be a general occurrence around here, and when was a good time for Jeff? He feels like he should be annoyed and he does a good enough job with threatening and moody texts, but then Will's at his door with that dumb smile and suddenly it's really hard to stay mad.

It's been a long time. Only twenty four hours long but with a year of extra memories crammed into his mind and an extra year of ageing to deal with. He's had enough of losing friends, so being able to return to one is actually a damn good feeling. Like the opposite of abandonment. It's enough to get a small smile sneak it's way onto his features, causing Jeff to duck his head away like he's trying to hide it. Nope, totally not glad to see Will.]

I didn't realise you were home.

[Which is the truth, but he was also trying to avoid people.]

Hey.

[Will knows how it goes, to some extent. He's been there himself. Chilton and Gideon had been there before him, Abigail had just poofed. While he's only gone back for a few months, he wouldn't be too surprised to hear Jeff had been "missing" for a year. He wouldn't have questions about how, or questions that Jeff couldn't answer, considering no one could answer some of the shit the Porter pulled.

Will shrugs, what can you do, releasing his grip on the knob and gently pushing on the door itself as he moves forward. Not shutting it, just nudged enough that passersby will have to do a little leaning to see in. Privacy without anything too suffocating.]

Work's slow. I've been playing housewife the last few days. [That is why Jeff's stuff might be a little out of order. Will was simply doing the dusting and whatnot, totally not snooping out of an anticipation of loss. Yes. Feather duster and cheeky garter belt peeking out from under the skirt and everything.] Speaking of products, Abigail gave me a set for beards you might want to look into.

[Will shaves his off and Jeff grows his out??? Unfair. UNFAIR.]

[The briefest moment of his attention flicking towards the slightly ajar door, and then he's looking at Will ~~with a passion in his eyes that can't be tamed!~~.

Of course Will would have an answer for why his stuff has been just slightly shuffled around. Of course. And Jeff doesn't believe a word of it. Housecleaning doesn't involve going into sock draws, and no matter how meticulous Will might be at covering his tracks, Jeff knows when there's even a thread out of place. He's very particular about his organisation when it comes to looking good.

But all is forgiven, because how can it not be? How can Jeff be pissed off with a guy who's taken the time to check on him? Winger may have just had to come to terms with parting with some of is best friends, but at least he gets to reunite with his other universe bro.]

Yeah, guess I better get on that. [Beard care is vereh important! But beards aren't really what's on his mind right now. He's more distracted by Will being in his room, after Jeff sort of not seeing the guy for a year. A reunion of sorts, even if Jeff's parting was short.]

It's good to see you.

[He totally shouldn't, really, and Will doesn't expect him to believe housewife means going through all the rooms and cleaning them immaculately. That would be the raccoons job, if Grey or Will leave it long enough. There's probably a thin little layer of dust on something in Jeff's room, somewhere, to give up the game, too. He'd just come in and had a sad texting semi-meltdown in April's direction. That's why there's an indent of his ass on Jeff's bed, not because he sat down to take a break while otherwise doing his duty.

He reaches out to gently rap on the dresser with a loose fist, smile waning but no less pleased Jeff's back and, apparently, pleased that his landlord cares enough to drop to in like an overeager puppy. Just as long as he doesn't piss the floor in excitement, which is much easier when he's been over a half a year without need for a colostomy. There is no danger of piddling here and now.]

Guess you better, too. [With a lilt, this is a sort of smalltalk Will's completely comfortable with, glancing around the once sadly-empty room before he cocks his head in Jeff's direction.] Is this the part where we hug and never mention it again?

[That ass print would eventually be noticed and pondered over. There's so many other places in the apartment to sit, Will, why ruin Jeff's nicely made bed? What a strange bro he is.]

Uh-huh. [Oh well, now Will's gone and done it, mentioning that h-word to an emotionally compromised bear-hug monster. If only there was some way to escape... which there totally is if Will wants to dodge away, otherwise he's got Jeff clearing the space between them in a few long strides and leaning down for a tight embrace, nestling his head in against Will's shoulder. It's a lingering hug, longer than Jeff had initially planned for, but human contact is great and the last time he was doing this he was saying goodbye to some very dear friends. It's only with a heavy sigh that he withdraws, giving Will a pat on the back during the retreat but still standing close, even if he does drop his gaze.]

Thanks. For giving a shit.

[Because after searching enough to realize that Jeff hadn't simply spent the night elsewhere and checking his communicator, there was only place that Will could think of to properly anticipate the loss and therefore begin to miss Jeff. Miss, digest the reality, learn to get over it if he never returned...going to the scene of the crime, just without any authority to deal with the Porter for her grave and terrible sins.

Will returns it, this for that, the same amount of grip, strength, giving absolutely zero concern to the very real height difference. He's more than comfortable with Jeff right against him, no fear of biting here, enough that he doesn't mind doing the only thing he really can by pressing his face against Jeff's shoulder, too. Only it's a little lower down and therefore earns him a damn good whiff of Winger scent, which is fine. It's not like Jeff's going to use this opportunity to smother him or otherwise make it impossible for Will to breathe, drop his limp body to the floor, and figure out where to go from there.

For any fronts about not being good with social cues, Will stays exactly as put. If Jeff wants him out of his personal bubble, he can do that. Will taking the chance to get further away at the first moment he can might not go over very well, so he keeps grounded and brings one hand up to scratch under his chin. It slides up to run over the bottom half of his face at that, unexpected words seeming near a confession, as though he's contemplating how to best respond to it. Totally not hiding a momentary smile behind those fingers, nope, not at all. (Except he totally is.)]

That's what I do. [He doesn't mean it dismissively, of course, but being too direct with emotions is sometimes not the best path to take. So while his words could be taken as such, he's careful to keep his tone the opposite, fond and pleased. Nothing clinical. Or worse. Professional.] But you're welcome. You're so welcome, Jeff, we'll be knocking a day off your rent.

[Who's the best little shit of a landlord ever?!]

[The only biting Jeff will be doing is no biting. Because he reserves that kind of affection for his lady friends, and usually in the bedroom. And yes, it's affection, because he doesn't do rabid face biting like some people in the room. The hug is just fine without any kind of biting though, and that should probably be a reassurance.]

Wow, what a relief. [All the sarcasm given in return for Will's kind offer, arms folding and brows lifting, a stance to quickly cover for the hug and kind words that happened only seconds before. Because Jeff doesn't do nice things like hug and thank people, he glares and grumps and makes snide comments meant to tease and mock. Whatever Will thinks might have just happened was likely his imagination and any recollection of it may just be denied. At least there was that agreement to never mention it again, even if that was only in jest.] Keep the day's pay. Buy me a bottle of red instead. I might even share it with you.

[Might as in definitely. Right now Jeff's conflicted between wanting to keep Will nearby for as long as he can, and spending some time alone. The former sounds like the better of the options, if only as some desperate attempt to try and keep his friend from leaving him like the others. ... Shit, and he thought he was over this abandonment issue.]

[YOU BITE A DUDE'S CHEEK OFF ONCE, FOR VERY GOOD REASONS, PAST YOUR CANON POINT, AND SUDDENLY IT'S A HUGE DEAL

Will mirrors Jeff stance, which isn't just because of his empathy crap, but also because it makes the natural tilting of his chin to look Jeff in his smarmy face much easier. He is but a tiny man by comparison, he is Jack to the bearded beanstalk before him, and he has no desire to start climbing. He can fold his arms and taking a step back like they're one musical number away from being in a dueling punk biker gang, sure thing.]

You want a red right now? I can run down to the store. [There's Jeff's out. Does he want some personal space, does he want Will to stay? He can speak on it now and either way, Will won't mind. And to make that more legitimate...] We're out of red as of last night, actually, so I'd need to buy some anyway. Maybe I should stop cooking with it.

[So they can all be lazy winos.]

[It's not fair that Will's giving him such an easy out. It means Jeff's forced to make a decision, one that he considers for a few lingering seconds as Will makes his final point. Alone time is good, but he's been getting too much of that back home lately.]

Nah, I've got some scotch tucked away, we can just open that. Unless you already drank it. [It's pretty well hidden. He has, in fact, got several bottles hidden around his room because the idea of not being surrounded by alcohol is a frightening thought to him.]

You can just buy the wine tomorrow, in the meantime you're stuck here until I say so. [Or else! Don't make Jeff wrestle you, little man.]

[He steps back at last, gesturing to the room with one hand. It's not a mess, is it? There are no obvious signs that it's been rummaged through, nothing was broken in upset, nothing had been moved too much or taken away, right? How could Jeff even dare imply Will would not only snoop, but absorb his things like he wasn't allowed them, like Will had the final say in what was and wasn't his? Gosh, Jeff thinks the worst of him always.]

It's your scotch, Jeff, I can't drink something when I don't know where it is. [So there. SO THERE.] And if you're gonna hold me captive, I appreciate you doing so at home.

[Gracelessly, he flops on the edge of the bed, right where the former ruffle from his butt had been. Covering up evidence in plain sight is a valid way to go about it.]

You wanna talk about it or just get drunk?

[He's all about those outs and offers, choice being such an important aspect of life.]

[Jeff lingers for a moment, eyes narrowing suspiciously towards Will as he tries to assess the truth behind the words. And then he moves, moving towards the closet and blocking the view of him rifling around inside thanks to his bulk. Nope, not gonna see where he's hidden his scotch, even if it is quite obviously hidden somewhere in the centre, likely hung up in some pocketed area, given away by the fact he's reaching in that direction.]

Not much to talk about. [He decides with a noncommittal shrug, unscrewing the cap to the bottle as walks back towards the edge of the bed and drops himself beside Will. With the lack of glasses in reach, he instead takes a swig straight from the bottle then offers it over. Such class.]

Went back home for a year. Did more teaching, met a few new people, said goodbye to some friends, lost the one woman that I think I'll regret ever letting go. The usual.

[Will doesn't watch him, isn't interested in knowing Jeff's hidey holes (he isn't watching his booty, either). He runs a hand over his face and leans back, eyes walking along the wall as he digests the answer. There's plenty to talk about it but getting too deeply into it isn't up Jeff's alley. He understands. He won't press. He will, however, happily take that bottle and play the sharing game the old fashioned way. The way God intended it when He invented bottles!]

The usual. [Grumbled like he understands instead of suddenly feels a swell of envy. Will's usual would probably seem like a horror movie by comparison. If not for the last part, it wouldn't sound too bad at all. The last part sounds like it's own horror movie, though, and Will's quick cringe should make it obvious he finds that much painful.] Guess that calls for the usual in return, then.

[Usual boy's night in is just fine with Will; he gives Jeff another tiny smile before he hands that bottle back over. But he's here for whatever just the same. If Jeff wants to spice up their usual, Will's not going to run screaming. Why would he? There's free good booze to be had. He'd be insane to run from that!]

[The mundane life of a community college teacher is probably heaven to a guy used to horrific serial killing and cannibals, but to Jeff it's just a life of boredom and minimum wage. He's come to accept it and even enjoy it thanks to a small group of friends, but teaching is teaching and Jeff is no teacher. Maybe he should be grateful that he gets another chance at lawyering here, along with attention a star like him deserves, but he cant help lingering over the loss of two very close friends. ]

The usual is just fine with me. [Taking that bottle and swigging down several large gulps like the contents is water. No spicing up, especially not in the form of groping or hawtness, but Jeff does consider what he really needs right now.] Although getting wasted, forgetting everything and crashing on the bed kinda sounds like the most appealing option right now.

[Another swig at the mere thought of getting drunk and then finally Will gets offered the bottle once more.] You and April got a good thing going. Don't screw it up.

[Jeff is going at that bottle the way a marathon runner goes at any container with Gatorade in it after crossing the finish line, and Will notices this deep appreciation of liquor without drawing attention to it. He's had enough usuals with Jeff at this point to know he can hold his booze, sure, but wow. Lots of shit went down back home, Will can tell because something actually impacted Jeff in a significant way.

He's careful to wait a moment before taking that bottle, to let Jeff know that he's heard him, he's digested it, and he's taking him seriously. Everyone wants to be accepted and understood on some level, and part of that involves being heard. Perhaps Jeff will get so drunk tonight he won't remember this exact moment, but if he can hold onto the way it made him feel—hopefully better than he'd feel alone and ruminating over what happened while he was gone—then it's worth it.]

I have every intention to not screw it up. [There's gratitude in his voice as he takes the bottle back. Why yes, we do have a good thing together, thank you for noticing and approving, I'll drink to that.] If you crash, am I expected to tuck you in on my own or are you comfortable waking up with bits of raccoon fur trapped in your bed because I called in the fuzzy fire brigade?

[He is a wee man, after all, and if he gets enough in him, he won't be on his A game. Though maybe Jeff waking up with one sock on and other signs that he was a drunk taken care of by someone also drunk would make for super good breakfast conversation.]

[Even for the self-centered Jeff the pause is noticed, a slight moment of hesitation as his own hand lingers on the bottle while that gesture of Will's is processed. Did he get it? Maybe. Will must have plenty of his own regrets, and just maybe some of those would involve a woman. Maybe he understood. That would be nice, to have someone who actually knew what Jeff was getting at rather than expect him to be the one with all the answers.

He stares for a moment longer before snapping away his gaze and releasing his hold on the bottle, both hands sinking pathetically into his lap, shoulders lowered and sloping.]

You can bring in the cavalry if you want. Don't care. Whatever.

[Not like he cares about Will or anything! Tsuntsun. There's far more important matters to address anyway.]

Did you have a partner back home?

[Will is infinitely more familiar with a distanced approach—no laying on hands, no slouching against each other, no close physical contact for too long. But here and now, Jeff just looks so miserable and so lonely in a way that resonates with Will. It's almost like he's sitting next to himself wearing a Jeff Winger skin, which is really saying a lot considering how often Will can come across as utterly despondent. He feels compelled to reach out and provide something, but then that question hits and the moment's passed. Will makes a face as he shifts so he can lean back against the wall, a half-sit half-lay on Jeff's bed that's comfortable and relaxed without being oddly stretched out. It's just what they're dealing with as a place to sit, no big deal.]

Like April? No. [One arm wraps around his stomach instinctively, though in the context of getting settled it doesn't look too strange. Freddie had painted Hannibal and Will as partners in crime (or tried to), they acted as shadows and mirrors of each other. Jack and Will were side-by-side in their own way, too, but that's not what Jeff's talking about. Cop humor about partners will have to wait.] Didn't have the time or inclination. Married to my work, you know?

[And his nakama, Hannibal Lecter. Wait shit no.]

IC contact [Mask or Menace]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject