It wasn't so much the hangover he was trying to shake, it was something else from the night before. The uncomfortable, uncertain feeling that'd made him leave the party, the exact thing Jesus had come by to talk about.
At least one of us is willing to deal with my bullshit, Drake thinks to himself, his free hand coming up to check Jesus' hair. It's still damp in its bun, just as he expected... but he gently pulls the tie out anyway.
"What rule?" Drake asks with the faux-innocent tone of someone who absolutely remembers the rule in question. He lets Jesus pull him up to standing, waiting there patiently like he wants the answer first.
Oh, Jesus. The kiss is fine, but the hesitance in it... like he's expecting to be rebuked even after that entire conversation. Drake's expression changes subtly, more warmth in his eyes and an obvious softness to what was just a playful smile.
"We're okay," he confirms gently, reclaiming his other hand to pull Jesus in against him. Technically it's a hug, but it's not just a hug. Drake lowers his head to speak into Jesus' ear, holding him close. "Thank you."
He needed this. He didn't know he did, but he breathes out and lays his head against Drake's shoulder. For the first time since he walked in, the edgy nervousness in him drains away.
Maybe they both did. Drake doesn't seem to be in any rush to let go; even when prompted he holds on for a little longer, and presses a kiss to Jesus' still-damp hair before pulling away to move towards his room and the master bath.
"You gonna join me? I picked up more of your conditioner."
"At your place, you mean?" Drake catches Jesus' shirt easily, folding it and setting it on top of his dresser before pulling off his own, which is destined for the hamper. "There's a little bit left in the old bottle, if you wanted to like.. marry conditioners and take one back."
It's entirely possible Jesus has never known anyone who worked in food service to get that reference, but Drake doesn't seem to think he's said anything odd as he continues stripping off his workout clothes.
"Yeah, I ran out yesterday." But he'd had to go to work and then today he'd been too worried about things with Drake to go to the store first.
"You know I went years without real shampoo, now that I can get it? I never want to go back," he says, like he's sharing a dirty secret. Hardened survivor seeks frilly bath products. He sits on the bed to pull off his boots and strip out of his pants.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
no subject
"Would've had to be here about two hours earlier... as soon as the edge was off my hangover we went on a really long run."
no subject
no subject
At least one of us is willing to deal with my bullshit, Drake thinks to himself, his free hand coming up to check Jesus' hair. It's still damp in its bun, just as he expected... but he gently pulls the tie out anyway.
"I always want your company."
no subject
no subject
no subject
"Are we okay?"
no subject
"We're okay," he confirms gently, reclaiming his other hand to pull Jesus in against him. Technically it's a hug, but it's not just a hug. Drake lowers his head to speak into Jesus' ear, holding him close. "Thank you."
no subject
"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up."
no subject
"You gonna join me? I picked up more of your conditioner."
no subject
Drake got him conditioner for this apartment. He knows the kind Jesus likes. It makes him grin.
no subject
It's entirely possible Jesus has never known anyone who worked in food service to get that reference, but Drake doesn't seem to think he's said anything odd as he continues stripping off his workout clothes.
no subject
"You know I went years without real shampoo, now that I can get it? I never want to go back," he says, like he's sharing a dirty secret. Hardened survivor seeks frilly bath products. He sits on the bed to pull off his boots and strip out of his pants.