Ian finally catches it, or Larry realizes it, as they're sitting at the Eppes' dinner table after one of Alan's extravagant meals. Charlie and Alan had already gone to bed, and Don had never shown up because he'd insisted that all he wanted to do after their last case was to collapse in his own bed and sleep straight through next day. Ian and Larry hover around the table still, with the remains of apple pie on their plates, and barely-cold beers in their hands. Ian's pretty certain there's enough alcohol in his blood to impair him, but he's off duty for the rest of the weekend anyways.
Larry spends an hour showing Ian photos of himself as an astronaut on his laptop, various shots of himself in his uniform- posed heroically for the "if you die, we'll use this" shot, laughing with joy as he boarded the shuttle for yet another attempt at leaving the planet after the third weather related scrub of the week. He shows Ian pictures of the shuttle, and the various faces and bodies floating around in the space station.
"It felt like home." Larry remarks, and Ian gets it, maybe more than Larry does. Larry had only spent a small fraction of his life away from earth- Ian has spent nearly all of it in another world than everyone else entirely.
Larry spends a minute examining the photo of himself and his fellow astronauts at Edwards afb before turning to speak to Ian, and Ian will swear he saw the change in Larry's demeanor as it happened some day in the future, but for now he simply listens.
"Do you have any pictures of yourself? When you were still with the army?" Larry asks, and Ian doesn't even think twice before pulling out his wallet to show Larry the sole picture he carries around.
"Sure. It isn't much..." Ian says, shrugging.
Larry takes the tiny and fading picture out of Ian's outstretched hand, gazing at it before ever so subtly brushing his thumb over the tiny image of Ian in uniform, surrounded by his unit smiling in the harsh desert light and the flatland all around him.
Ian sees it just moments before Larry continues to speak. He sees Larry's increased respiration, his palms getting wet, the way he holds the photo like a delicate treasure. His -excitement- at brushing his thumb along Ian's body. He sees it because this isn't the first time someone has been excited about what he does.
Ian doesn't even take the time to notice his own excitement.
Larry looks up, and Ian hasn't seen that much determination in his face ever before, nor has he heard the determination used in his upcoming words. "I'd like to go home with you, Ian, and see more of you there."
Ian shakes his head, blushing. "I don't do that, not with anyone."
The look doesn't go away, but neither does Larry's persistence. Larry rolls his eyes. "I don't want to have sex with you, Ian."
Ian's furrows his eyebrows. "What, then?"
"I'm asking you to indulge me with more photographs of yourself like this, with your uniform and memories of the army if you wish to share them. I am asking you to give me something, Ian, and I am offering nothing but my willingness to listen, and -this-, in return." Larry replies.
Ian doesn't get it. He doesn't get what Larry inarticulately wants, he doesn't get why he says yes. He doesn't get it until the shoebox of memories, from when Ian was a newborn swaddled up like a burrito, to when he was a teenager at his sister's 14th birthday party, until present day, is spilled out on his bed with Larry sifting through it and Ian telling him some of the best and worst stories of it all. Larry had offered Ian relief in exchange for stimulation and arousal, and Ian is glad he accepted.