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Gerard always got a little nervous when Cal and Niko went out for that kind of work. He knew logically that they could handle themselves, but he was the sort that worried. Especially when it was dangerous enough to not want Gerry to risk getting underfoot.

They had just left, and told him to hold his concern unless they were not back by morning. There was no way he'd be sleeping. Getting out his art supplies and tying his blonde hair back he thought to do some detail work on his bedroom walls when he got that strange feeling he always did when Cal opened a portal.

"... Back already?" He wondered aloud - the Auphe didn't come inside, they held to that deal. So it was mostly with curiosity and concern Gerard went to the stairs to see why Cal had seemingly come back. He didn't bother with shoes.

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"Obviously no filter, that would make it useful, or at least almost useful." He actually had to think about the question, brow furrowing even as he dropped into a chair, "I don't actually remember. Just kind of feels like one of those things I've always known."

He couldn't even remember if it had been Nik that had taught him, though he didn't think so, he felt like he'd remember that, but he also didn't know who else would have, unless he'd just taught himself off the back of the bisquick box.

Gerard got water for himself, and offered to grab something for Cal as well. He had a certain caretaker aspect to his personality that worked well with Niko in some ways and conflicted heavily in others - both wanting to carry the load for the other at times.

"Suppose they're not the most complicated thing to make," Gerard admitted.

"I can do eggs, few different ways, even, and I can even handle French toast, most of the time, just don't try to get me to do anything inside the oven. Actual baking is still beyond me. Been lucky so far with reheating leftovers when there wasn't a microwave available, but even that feels like tempting fate."

Water was just fine with Cal, as well, mostly because he knew he probably needed more of it just in general.

He also made a careful, mostly-even layer of chopped fruit across the tops of his own pancakes, not to the level of some kind of neurosis, but still enough to make sure every bite would have some.

Gerard topped his the same way, a bit lighter on the fruit, but the same idea in mind.

"I've been in way too many places that didn't have a microwave. Got really good at bare bones sustenance finding with a hotplate though."

Which probably contributed to Gerard's lack of care for eating. Even now he ate very little, and while thanks to constant feeding from Niko he was no longer scrawny, looking at former pictures of himself ... well, the idea that he hadn't realized he had cancer was kind of dumb, thanks to the diet of cigarettes and tea and sometimes coffee.

"I definitely got more experience since moving here."

"Hotplate and camp stove take a similar skill set, and it's one that I have about half of." He replied, nodding, as he cut a bite of pancake with the side of his fork, "And having a stable base camp to work with," A circular gesture with the fork to indicate the apartment, "Definitely helps with, you know, remembering regular meals and learning how to make more of them."

Something that he probably would have managed himself, if he'd actually managed to stick around at any point in time, and something he had managed whenever he'd ended up caught somewhere even semi-stable for more than a few days.

"And people to get on your case if you forget," Gerard admitted with a wry tone that said that was a normal source of conflict to deal with. Gerard ate slowly, carefully, like after every other bite he was considering whether he wanted the next.

"... Cal really did miss you. He talked about you a lot."

"Yeah, that too." Cal no longer ate like he thought someone might take it before he could finish, and while sometimes it was close, now was not one of those times. Gerard had his own plate, that was apparently enough to convince that little food-aggressive corner of Cal's brain that everything was fine.

He nodded at the rest, "I'll have to try not to ambush him when they get back from the thing." Because while it might be hilarious, it might also lead to stabbing, and he really didn't want to deal with that when he was still achy from raptor-scratches.

Gerard had also learned from his Cal how to not set off food aggression triggers. Especially for when Cal's murder chorus was particularly loud that day.

"They can be a little ... wound up when they first come home, yeah," Gerard agreed with a wry smile that spoke of his own misunderstandings over that, though clearly given he wasn't yet dead and had very few scars they had all turned out okay. "As long as Spartacus isn't giving off the intruder alert though it's probably alright."

He nodded, "And that's if Cal hasn't smelled me from downstairs." Which considering he hadn't been downstairs himself was unlikely, but not impossible, "I'll make sure there's a clear path between me and the door."

Not because he'd need to make a break for it, but because he could be reasonably sure Cal would vault furniture to get to him. Mostly because he'd do the same.

"Can he? Smell the differences between the two of you?" Gerard asked, curious. Well, right now they'd probably be clear - Cal having just come from dinosaur world probably had some very unique scents on him indeed, but if he stuck around did he still smell different or just like Caliban smelling himself?

"... Is that weird to ask? You don't have to answer if it's weird."

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head, "It would be weirder if we weren't what we are, but yeah, he can, we both can, especially when I first get back from somewhere else."

He gave a little one-shouldered shrug, stuffing another bite of pancake in his mouth but talking clearly enough around it as he chewed, "Things get a little muddier the longer I'm here, but there's still a difference, always figured it's just from years of y'know, different diet and location and stuff."

Gerard gave a thoughtful huh, nodding along to Cal's explanation as he puzzled that over. That such subtle differences could be told by scent alone. He rather forgot his food as he did, lost in that line of thought and consideration, considering other questions and discarding them as likely too personal.

It was probably pretty clear where he got along with Niko, the way Gerard also could laser-focus on a subject. He never did formal schooling until recently doing art school, but Gerard had a passion for learning. There was a not insignificant chance he would become one of those perpetual grad students if given the opportunity.

"Do you have the same fingerprints?"

Cal knew there was going to be at least one question at the end of that wholly-intent pondering, and so he didn't interrupt the thought process, just smiled a little when it finally concluded and the question followed, "I don't think we've ever actually checked?"

He shook his head a moment later, "And even if we did, mine are partial at best." He offered a hand across the table, fingers wriggling. His fingertips were littered with a cross-hatching of mostly-hairline scars, nothing that had been done deliberately to try and remove them, but to much the same effect, there was even burn scarring on the pads of thumb and forefinger, as if he'd held onto something too hot for too long.

Gerard leaned over to look at Cal's hands, his own long fingers reaching out to very gently touch Cal's, gentle and faint and very easy to pull away from the moment Cal might want.

"Fingerprints are very difficult to remove," Gerard comments - if the skin can heal, they'll return. It really is just better to wear gloves if you're a criminal then fuss around with trying to remove prints. "They're similar to Cal's at least. I'd have to see them next to each other to check an exact match though."

Prior to digitally recording and sorting, fingerprints were checked by hand. Having an artistic sense meant you were more likely to be skilled at it, and well - Gerard was very good with patterns.

He didn't pull away, the touch had been telegraphed and half-expected, though at the comment on the similarity a string of expressions ran across Cal's face, settling on a kind of resigned surprise, "You can tell that just by looking? Is that the kind of thing people memorize now?"

Even the second question was puzzled-curious and not actually meant as any kind of jab, mostly it was because he didn't know what kind of things most people actually knew about each other on a regular basis as it was, zero frame of reference.

Gerard's cheeks flushed and he did at least have the dignity to look a little embarrassed.

"I'm... I'm very good at pattern recognition? Also... kind of... psychic-ish," Gerard admitted, because that was less embarrassing than admitting to just staring at Cal when he slept sometimes, when they were together, because he wanted to memorize every bit of him.

His brows lifted a little at that answer, but he nodded all the same, because it made as much sense as anything else he'd happened across in his travels, and actually made more sense than a great deal of them.

Which was why he said, "Oh, right, that makes sense." Perfectly willing to accept the explanation even despite the sudden flush, mostly because that would reasonably be easier on both of them.

It wasn't a lie, even. He was psychic, though the actual limits and what he could do he was still feeling out.

"Ishiah is helping me learn how to use it," he explained, returning to his own plate, more pushing the food around than actually eating. It was good, Gerard just rarely had anything that passed for an apatite. "Most of the time it's ... uh, locked up. Kind of? So I only really get use of it when I'm at the bar or if I force it. Which so far regularly triggers a migraine after."

"That's because brains are just not well-designed." He replied with a soft snort, tapping the side of his nose with a finger a moment later, adding: "Like nosebleeds from opening a Gate. You know, one of those things that I should be able to do no problem because of physiology or whatever."

A semi-circular gesture with his fork followed, digging back into what was left of his pancakes, "Now I only get them when I've opened a bunch in a row or something." Most days he considered it the same as musicians building calluses, and not like professional sports-ball players getting repeated brain damage.

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