There was a lot of uncertainty on both sides, and Drake was fully expecting some to linger for awhile even after the contract is processed (which he's definitely doing now that they've talked through it) but the way Jesus is kissing him now is more reassuring than anything. Because he can feel the desperation, the certainty, the need to convince him that it was a mistake. He can feel Jesus' guilt and fear in this, and all Drake can do is try to soothe him by responding in kind.
"I'm so glad you came back," he murmurs when they next break apart for air, still clutching Jesus to him. "Was this all a ruse to get me to tie you down again? All you had to do was ask."
Hey now, no fair using that voice when he was just trying to lighten the mood... it does earn him a soft laugh, though, and Drake certainly isn't pushing him away.
"Tempting," he admits, nuzzling back. "I'm kidding, though. You ever actually wanna go, you'll still do what's right for you?"
As relieved as he is that this wasn't it, he'd never try to force or guilt Jesus to stay.
"I will. I promise." He looks at Drake, and needs him to promise the same. "If you ever don't want the contract, if you ever change your mind about me, it's okay, too. I want you to do what's right for you, too."
"Anything? Babe, I wasn't thinking any further than this." He gives Jesus a tighter squeeze for a moment, then lets himself relax back against the couch cushions. "One decision at a time... are we cooking, or ordering in? 'Cuz you're staying right here."
"Hanging..? What, like a koala?" Drake grins, finally feeling like the tension in him has released. It's been there for days and he hadn't realized just how much he was holding in his shoulders. "I'd be cool with that sans fire, though."
"Don't underestimate me," he teases, sliding an arm around Drake's waist like he might just hang off of him now. He orders them something easy, just pizza. "Want beer with it?"
"I don't have to estimate anything, I know how much you weigh." Not enough to feel like a burden draped over his back, that's for sure, but he's also in no rush to get off the couch and un-snuggled, so. Drake just answers the question. "There's plenty of beer in the fridge. You ordering from somewhere that's got desserts?"
"Was that a test?" He doesn't quite manage to sound offended and certainly doesn't look it, but it's clear that's what he was aiming for. "Good thing you won't have to tolerate me, huh?"
"Got it... keep going, I do all that and I've still got nine strikes and no idea how I got 'em. Plus they could keep piling up in the meantime. How many before I'm dumped again?"
"You're me." He'll tease out some things Drake likes along the way, but he doesn't want to approach this as Jesus just finding ways to make up to Drake. Even if part of that is true. He plans to spoil Drake for the next while.
"Okay, in that case... homemade brownies has to be a negative strike or two. Maybe coming by to walk you home from work is worth something?" He tips his head, thinking. "Can I get into favors, or is that not strike material?"
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"I'm so glad you came back," he murmurs when they next break apart for air, still clutching Jesus to him. "Was this all a ruse to get me to tie you down again? All you had to do was ask."
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"Tempting," he admits, nuzzling back. "I'm kidding, though. You ever actually wanna go, you'll still do what's right for you?"
As relieved as he is that this wasn't it, he'd never try to force or guilt Jesus to stay.
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