He cackles, turning around quickly and placing his hands on his shoulders, trying to push him down.
He knows that he has to earn trust again. He knows that he has to earn his place back where they were. And yet - everything already feels a bit lighter. A bit easier. There's still hurt, but it doesn't have to always be so hard.
"Are you prepared to argue the point?" he wonders. "Because you don't have a leg to stand on."
He goes, and he smiles up at Daniel very much like he hung the moon and painted the stars personally. That bond between them from the feeding adds dimension to the softness in his eyes.
“I do, and all I need is one question to prove you wrong.”
It's a trap he so happily falls into because he wants to. Because he sees that look and he loves it. He looks down at him and there's no sarcasm or anger behind his expression. He loves him without reservation, without hesitation.
Jacobi sighs deeply and practically collapses beside him, his head on his shoulder. "Goodnight, Warren," he mutters, because that's his only defense against the question.
He does reach down and pull up the blankets, feeling the weight of the day on him. But there's a sense of security as he curls up against him. He doesn't have back what they had, but that's alright. There's a way forward, and that's what matters.
"I was just trying to stick to what I'm good at," he says with a quick chuckle before he's wrapping solidly around Jacobi... and listening to his heartbeat settle out when sleep claims him.
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“I didn’t even mention stakes and there he goes, one in the heart already.”
Daniel, how mean.
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He knows that he has to earn trust again. He knows that he has to earn his place back where they were. And yet - everything already feels a bit lighter. A bit easier. There's still hurt, but it doesn't have to always be so hard.
"Are you prepared to argue the point?" he wonders. "Because you don't have a leg to stand on."
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“I do, and all I need is one question to prove you wrong.”
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"Well? Go on, then."
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Jacobi sighs deeply and practically collapses beside him, his head on his shoulder. "Goodnight, Warren," he mutters, because that's his only defense against the question.
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"That's what I thought."
So very fond. And so very smug.
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Ass.
He does reach down and pull up the blankets, feeling the weight of the day on him. But there's a sense of security as he curls up against him. He doesn't have back what they had, but that's alright. There's a way forward, and that's what matters.
He's asleep in moments.
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