He doesn't have to be told twice to stand because he scrambles to his feet right away, hand still pressed firm at the nape of Daryl's neck. He urges into the kiss the same way he urges into the way he's being held close - a matching desperation, his free hand dropping to splay at Daryl's hip and dig fingertips into denim slightly. He's about to pull him closer that way, like they can even get any closer--

Ha. Ha. Ha.

He lets his forehead drop to Daryl's shoulder with a noise that can only be described as half-groan, half-laugh. Barely audible. "You could say that," he mutters, before sighing and kissing him again, though this one is far gentler and he reluctantly pulls from it after too short a moment. They jinxed themselves, clearly.

"Yeah," he says louder after clearing his throat so it doesn't sound hoarse. "Cleaning up after breakfast. Done in a minute." He still doesn't move away too much yet though, lofting an eyebrow slightly.

Look, he can still wait. He's just gonna need a minute to be suitable for mixed company.