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He makes a drink for Drake, too, while he's at it and then just settles in to wait.

It's actually only seven minutes later when Jesus hears the lock click, but who's counting? As soon as the door opens Sable is bounding in and straight for her friend, Drake lingering in the entryway just long enough to hang her leash and his jacket. Normally he'd take off his boots there too -- right now he doesn't bother, moving with more urgency than usual as he spots Jesus and beelines for him. If he notices the second mug he doesn't react to it.

"Hey. What's going on?"

"I was wrong." First and foremost. "And I'm sorry. I wish I could go back to Friday and undo this."

His own mug is barely touched.

At first, Drake's subtly worried expression tips more towards confused... then his mask settles into place. That careful, practiced, practically unreadable neutrality that Jesus had only ever seen directed at others before Friday. And now Drake's wearing it for him. He nods slightly in acknowledgment, taking a seat himself.

"You saw K, huh?"

"No. I mean, yes. But I felt this way after the party. During." Hell he'd spoken to Carver about it. "Even if K wants to leave, I want to be signed with you."

...well this sure is a roller coaster Jesus has them all on, now isn't it? Drake just watches him for a long moment, still and quiet, taking in his miserable expression. He sounds as genuine about this as he had about not signing, is the problem, and Drake feels like the knife he didn't bother to pull out of his chest yet is being twisted again.

It doesn't show, his calm mask very firmly in place. This can't be something Jesus decides on out of guilt.

"Okay," he says carefully, "but three days ago you said you needed to not be. Those aren't mutually exclusive feelings."

"Three days ago I was panicking. I was doing what I did in the old world but I don't want to be that person anymore. I want to be better." He looks at Drake, wishing he could see something through that careful neutrality freezing him out.

"Better...? Than what, exactly?" No, maybe that isn't the right question. He tries again. "Better for who?"

"For myself." First and foremost. He's the one who has to live with every decision he makes. "I don't want to be someone who runs from things when they get to feeling too good. I don't want to be afraid of living."

Although his expression still doesn't give anything away, if he's watching closely enough Jesus can tell that he gave the 'right' answer from how Drake's posture relaxes slightly. The silence that stretches between them isn't uncomfortable, at least. Just weighty, echoing the importance of his internal consideration.

It probably feels like it takes him forever, but then Drake stands up and crosses to the kitchen counter to open the drawer on the end. That ubiquitous "stuff" drawer with things like tape, scissors, rubber bands, spare takeout utensils, the random not-quite-junk that doesn't quite belong anywhere else. He pulls out some papers and returns to Jesus, setting them down -- it's their unsigned contract. The same terms as always, the copy that Jesus didn't sign on Friday morning. Drake hadn't thrown it out.

"We need to actually talk about... everything," he warns Jesus, "but if you mean that? Neither of us need me playing keep away with it."

His first thought is Drake knew, somehow, that Jesus would come back. And then he second guesses that and tells himself not to make such assumptions.

And then he's just left with his throat feeling tight, looking at that stack of papers.

"I want to sign." He looks up at Drake. "Do you want to talk first?"

He didn't. Drake not only didn't know, when he told K that Jesus might change his mind he wasn't actually considering it as a possibility. He'd just been trying to lighten the blow for the other man, who Drake wasn't worried for because he was fragile. He was worried because he and K have a few things in common, but K is stronger. Instead of falling apart he'd shore himself up, but in the process probably close himself off. And he deserves to be happy, to know he's got value to others just for being himself.

Drake didn't know, he'd briefly hoped and felt like it was just wishful thinking. Another thing he was being a fucking idiot about. But he'd felt sick upon telling himself to rip it up, so he hadn't. Maybe because he knew that on his end, if Jesus did want to come back he'd welcome it? (Though under no circumstances would he have ever guessed at him only going three days "alone" before it happening.)

Expression finally warming, he shakes his head slightly.

"Nah. I'm not gonna turn you away... it's okay to panic. But the running from me, please don't do that again?" He nudges the papers closer, a shaky smile tugging at one side of his mouth. "Say you're willing to figure it out with me and I think it might actually take the stress level here down a few notches. And if I'm wrong it's not like we're running to file it tonight."

In that way it's really just a promise, right? Safe.

"I can promise that. I mean it, I don't want to be someone who runs from something good." Maybe that's what he's learned, is still learning: what to fight for.

He leans forward and takes the pen, and signs his name.

"That's what everyone kept telling me. Talk about it. Just talk. And that's what I'm always telling everyone else."

Unsurprisingly, watching Jesus sign doesn't magically untangle the mess of emotions making his chest ache... but the promise does ease a little bit more tension from his shoulders. Enough that he can breathe out and reach towards Jesus, stopping just shy of tugging the smaller man in against him. It's an invitation instead, for hopefully a little comfort that even if there's still shit to work out? Drake wants him around more than he's upset about responses that make perfect sense. Even if they hurt.

"Yeah, you should probably take your own advice," he says softly, "in my experience it's pretty damn good."

Jesus steps up against him, cautiously wrapping an arm around Drake and then more confidently adding the second so he can hold onto him properly.

"I'm sorry, Drake."

"There's-- it's okay," Drake murmurs, wrapping one arm around his shoulders and cradling his head with the other. "You don't have to apologize. Just stay."

That's what'll make things better for him: Jesus being here. He has no idea where to start just yet but they can take a minute to just... be something other than scared and hurting.

"Come sit with me so I don't have to let go, huh?"

Just stay.

Well he can do that.

"I didn't think you'd take me back," he says. "Not so easily."

He's not sure he deserves this at all.

"What part's been easy?" Drake huffs against Jesus' hair, holding on for a moment longer before shifting back just enough to guide Jesus to the couch. "Did coming back to say this feel easy to you?"

"No," he says, with a little laugh of his own as he sits. "Which is why I thought you'd say no."

As soon as they're seated Drake wraps his arm back around Jesus' shoulders, tugging him in close and encouraging him to lean as he settles. And then he's quiet for a long moment, head tipped forward to rest against the other man's as he considers how to respond to that. It feels like a fresh wound he needs to be careful about being gentle with.

"It was never gonna be no, Jesus. More like yes or not yet," he murmurs, "I meant it that I'd still be here for you even if you didn't want to stay with me... I don't think you've got it in you to do the kinda stuff that'd change my feelings. That piece of paper isn't why I love you, it just hurt to think you didn't want it anymore."

"I did," he says softly. "I just... I just needed time to figure out that I could have it. That it was okay for me to have it."

He rests his head in the crook of Drake's neck. "I'm sorry. I really am."

"I'm starting to feel like I should be apologizing to you, if I didn't make it obvious enough you deserve the world." Drake props his chin on Jesus' head, snuggling the smaller man against his side. "Tell me what scared you? Help me understand it."

"I always got sent back," he finally says, and Drake is holding up so much of his weight now and it feels safe. Finally safe. "If it was my mom getting arrested again, or a foster family deciding I wasn't right for them... I always got sent away when I'd start thinking I was going to get to stay. So it's easier when I control when I leave."

There's a small, sharp pang at hearing that -- like a shard of glass being stabbed into his chest == despite that logically Drake knows this sort of defense mechanism is so deeply ingrained in Jesus that it's just a part of him. It has nothing to do with whoever he's running from not being good enough; in fact, the more comfortable someone makes him feel the more scared he'll probably be of it. Drake knows this.

But just like the instinct that made Jesus feel like he needed to leave, the sting of it doesn't really care about his rationale. Their childhood traumas are really butting heads at the moment, because Drake hears Jesus say that his told him he wasn't secure... and his wants to make it his fault. If he'd just been better, surely the other man wouldn't have felt the need to run to protect himself.

That's not how it works. Obviously, Drake scolds himself, you're proving that right now. Emotion is practically never logical. And the more important someone is to you, the more of them you have to contend with.

Drake takes a deep breath and lets it out slow, trying to exhale his insecurities with it. He came back. Jesus is right here, and that's more important than the fact that he ran. Maybe this is the first time he's ever come back? Knowing his track record at boyfriends, Drake wouldn't be surprised. His arm tightens protectively around Jesus' shoulders.

"Anybody deciding you're not right for them also isn't right for you, Paul. I'm sorry that's how it was for so long." He's quiet for a moment, long enough it almost seems like he's going to leave it at that, but he doesn't. "I'm never gonna do that. Everybody's a work in progress, but you're not a kid anymore either. If something's not working I'll just-- talk to you. Promise."

"I know you will. I came back because I trust you." He lays his head on Drake's shoulder and breathes in, breathes out. "I know this is hard on you, too. So what can I do right now to make it easier?"

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