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Summary
He slides off the bed with a fluidity that Jesse just loves to watch. He wishes he could mimic it, in combat and in life. Reyes shuffles towards the closet, kicks his fatigues off and pulls sweatpants on. He's real pretty.
Jesse sits up against the headboard, draws his knees up and rests his chin on them like a kid. Watches. Reyes tugs his day-old undershirt off, and Jesse says, “Don't put a clean one on.” His voice lilts up like it might be a question, but Reyes smiles at him and it's good, it's so good.
