[ This draws a laugh from him, little more than a huff of air. He can see the amusement that's trying to fight out of Daryl and he takes it as a personal triumph because of course he does.
Then he shrugs, smile twisting his mouth. ]
Nah. Just when I'm working through logistics.
[ It's true enough: for the most part, he's pretty quiet. A little quiet, a little weird, a little bit of a loner. ]
Coulda fooled me, yammerin' on as you always are. 'less you mean to tell me you're always working through logistics.
[And this time when his lips twisted upward, he didn't fight it so hard. He actually didn't mind the talking. It filled the silence. Let him focus on something.]
Maybe I am. Maybe I just talk a lot when I'm around you.
[ It's teasing, easy, and above all: comfortable. Maybe he's too comfortable too easy, but it's too late for that. It's not going to change any time soon, so let him fill the silences at will. ]
[The words came before he could stop them, but once they were out, he stiffened and froze up. Very aware of how that sounded. His thumbs stilled their motion and he held his breath for a long moment. Then sat up straight again and coughed softly, looking away from Jesus.]
[ It's quiet but careful and he doesn't push it, just sits still and watches Daryl go through these steps. He's not expectant or judging or anything, just patient.
His lips curve upward a little, at any rate, and he wiggles his legs just a little where they rest. He's clearly not put out or embarrassed. ]
[The wiggling drew his attention down to the legs still heavy in his lap. Still just... there.
He felt like his whole face was on fire. Like he screwed up some. But Jesus didn't laugh at him and there was nothing in his tone making it sound like he took it wrong. Like he was getting ready to make fun of him over it the way Merle would have. The way Daryl expected anyone who wasn't family to do. Just because he was used to that kind of shit. It was hard to shake.
Daryl let out the breath he'd been holding and let his eyes stay fixed on his hands, which were now hanging out over his knees. His forearms still resting on Jesus' legs. Gulped another breath and tried to relax. Get that sense of ease back.
Attempted a joke that came out stilted to his ears.]
[ Jesus is full of light teasing but there's never any real fire behind it; there's never anything cruel behind his smile and never anything awful behind his laughs.
In any case he would have taken it into stride entirely if Daryl hadn't reacted like he had - and now it's fine anyway, quiet and comfortable as he shrugs. It's not so stilted as Daryl thinks, probably. ]
I don't use just anyone as a footrest, you know.
[ It's not even really flirty, he's just reiterating that he feels comfortable around Daryl. Then: ]
I figure a guy that didn't actually murder me on sight for stealing a supply truck wouldn't murder me for resting my legs on him, you know?
[Jesus succeeded in getting an amused snort out of him before he could control it and that in turn led to a shy smile that was hidden by a further dip of his head. Far enough that his hair fell around his face becoming a curtain.]
[ This time he does laugh, but it's absolutely good-natured. ]
Rick told me about that. I'd call you an asshole but really I would have probably deserved it, so...
[ Rick's a trustworthy guy with all the important things. This though? This is yakety sax hilarity that involved Daryl trying to leave a grownass man up a tree. So. ]
Did I say that? [ With a hint of a grin, legs getting shaken around or no. ]
Now, see. You definitely could, but we've already come to the conclusion that tying me up doesn't actually work for more than approximately thirty seconds, so...
It is cause I know where to get it. You don't. You'd have to offer up something else.
[Daryl's hands began to rub Jesus's legs, this time a little more consciously. A light massage to help loosen the tight muscles he felt there. No one was around to see and Jesus didn't seem to mind the handling. Gave his hands something to do.]
You saying if I chain you up and put you in a fish tank, you can get get 'fore you drown? 'Cause that'd be a hell of a magic show. Afterwards you can make balloon animals for the kids and make pigeons disappear.
I could figure out something. Lord knows I'm good at finding things.
[ He really doesn't mind it at all - relaxes even, under the attention. Having Daryl idly do whatever is one thing, but being purposely tactile is... nice. He's not going to open up enough to say that obviously, but. Well. The thought is there. ]
I probably could, but honestly I'm not really in the mood to try it out and see. Last thing I need is to be floating around snapping my teeth.
[ WHY IS EVERYTHING SO MORBID? ]
Besides, you like me enough to not want me to drown. [ Confident. ]
[Even joking he couldn't bring himself to say he wanted to see someone dead that he didn't actually want to see dead. He hadn't really put much thought into taking the Houdini joke that far despite his mention of drowning because he'd had it in his head it was a foregone conclusion Jesus could get out of any kind of situation like that.
Still, it was hard to sound firm on that kind of agreement. Like if he was, he'd be admitting or agreeing to more than he was ready to.]
Guess so.
[It came out soft and after Daryl fell silent. His hands continued their work on Jesus's shins, moving down from the knee to his ankles. Pausing at his boots before sliding down and resting on them. He wasn't sure if he should tell the guy to take 'em off or just leave the massage at that. But a moment later he pulled his hand back and let them both rest once more on Jesus' legs. Asking that would be too much. Too familiar. He was just giving his hands something to do, not really trying to help the guy relax.
[ As morbid as his quiet sense of humor could be, he'd meant it about Daryl liking him enough to not really want him dead. If he had, Jesus would have been dead that first day. He still counts himself lucky every day that he'd made the right judgment about the personalities of Rick Grimes and Daryl Dixon when he'd been watching them from afar.
Then again, he's always been a good judge of character. ]
If it helps, I like you plenty well enough too.
[ As though that isn't obvious enough. He watches Daryl's hands move though, following their trek, and when he stops Jesus just smiles a little to himself, resting his arm on the back of the couch. When he speaks it's easy: there's no underlying meaning behind it, it's not strange or flirty, it just is what it is. ]
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Then he shrugs, smile twisting his mouth. ]
Nah. Just when I'm working through logistics.
[ It's true enough: for the most part, he's pretty quiet. A little quiet, a little weird, a little bit of a loner. ]
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[And this time when his lips twisted upward, he didn't fight it so hard. He actually didn't mind the talking. It filled the silence. Let him focus on something.]
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[ It's teasing, easy, and above all: comfortable. Maybe he's too comfortable too easy, but it's too late for that. It's not going to change any time soon, so let him fill the silences at will. ]
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[The words came before he could stop them, but once they were out, he stiffened and froze up. Very aware of how that sounded. His thumbs stilled their motion and he held his breath for a long moment. Then sat up straight again and coughed softly, looking away from Jesus.]
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[ It's quiet but careful and he doesn't push it, just sits still and watches Daryl go through these steps. He's not expectant or judging or anything, just patient.
His lips curve upward a little, at any rate, and he wiggles his legs just a little where they rest. He's clearly not put out or embarrassed. ]
I talk more with people I'm comfortable around.
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He felt like his whole face was on fire. Like he screwed up some. But Jesus didn't laugh at him and there was nothing in his tone making it sound like he took it wrong. Like he was getting ready to make fun of him over it the way Merle would have. The way Daryl expected anyone who wasn't family to do. Just because he was used to that kind of shit. It was hard to shake.
Daryl let out the breath he'd been holding and let his eyes stay fixed on his hands, which were now hanging out over his knees. His forearms still resting on Jesus' legs. Gulped another breath and tried to relax. Get that sense of ease back.
Attempted a joke that came out stilted to his ears.]
That why you're using me as a footrest?
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In any case he would have taken it into stride entirely if Daryl hadn't reacted like he had - and now it's fine anyway, quiet and comfortable as he shrugs. It's not so stilted as Daryl thinks, probably. ]
I don't use just anyone as a footrest, you know.
[ It's not even really flirty, he's just reiterating that he feels comfortable around Daryl. Then: ]
I figure a guy that didn't actually murder me on sight for stealing a supply truck wouldn't murder me for resting my legs on him, you know?
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Could still string you up a tree. Never know.
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Rick told me about that. I'd call you an asshole but really I would have probably deserved it, so...
[ Rick's a trustworthy guy with all the important things. This though? This is yakety sax hilarity that involved Daryl trying to leave a grownass man up a tree. So. ]
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[He put his hands firmly on Jesus' shins and gave them a little shake.]
I could string you up one right now. By these skinny little ankles of yours. Dangle you like a fish on a hook.
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Now, see. You definitely could, but we've already come to the conclusion that tying me up doesn't actually work for more than approximately thirty seconds, so...
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[Not that hog-tying would make stringing him up a tree in any way easier.]
Bet you a snickers bar from Gregory's stash.
[Because unlike the rest of Hilltop, Daryl knew where it was and the poptarts hadn't been the only thing in it.]
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[ A pause. ]
We should really liberate the whole stash. For the people.
[ "For the people." His mouth quirks a little though and he shrugs. ]
Escalating scale. I'm telling you though, I'm the apocalypse Houdini.
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[Daryl's hands began to rub Jesus's legs, this time a little more consciously. A light massage to help loosen the tight muscles he felt there. No one was around to see and Jesus didn't seem to mind the handling. Gave his hands something to do.]
You saying if I chain you up and put you in a fish tank, you can get get 'fore you drown? 'Cause that'd be a hell of a magic show. Afterwards you can make balloon animals for the kids and make pigeons disappear.
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[ He really doesn't mind it at all - relaxes even, under the attention. Having Daryl idly do whatever is one thing, but being purposely tactile is... nice. He's not going to open up enough to say that obviously, but. Well. The thought is there. ]
I probably could, but honestly I'm not really in the mood to try it out and see. Last thing I need is to be floating around snapping my teeth.
[ WHY IS EVERYTHING SO MORBID? ]
Besides, you like me enough to not want me to drown. [ Confident. ]
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Still, it was hard to sound firm on that kind of agreement. Like if he was, he'd be admitting or agreeing to more than he was ready to.]
Guess so.
[It came out soft and after Daryl fell silent. His hands continued their work on Jesus's shins, moving down from the knee to his ankles. Pausing at his boots before sliding down and resting on them. He wasn't sure if he should tell the guy to take 'em off or just leave the massage at that. But a moment later he pulled his hand back and let them both rest once more on Jesus' legs. Asking that would be too much. Too familiar. He was just giving his hands something to do, not really trying to help the guy relax.
He was already relaxed enough as it was.]
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Then again, he's always been a good judge of character. ]
If it helps, I like you plenty well enough too.
[ As though that isn't obvious enough. He watches Daryl's hands move though, following their trek, and when he stops Jesus just smiles a little to himself, resting his arm on the back of the couch. When he speaks it's easy: there's no underlying meaning behind it, it's not strange or flirty, it just is what it is. ]
Thanks.
End Scene?
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