Heyyy, what's happenin'? You've reached the voicemail of one very fine-lookin' man. Wanna chat? Fanboy all over my mad skillz? Declare your undying love for me? You know what to do. [BEEEEP]
[Wade's having trouble following Jesse's tl;dring, to be honest. The kid's talking faster than an auctioneer on speed right now. He tries to understand what Jesse's trying to say as best he can, though the subject matter-- rotten wood, choice tools? what are you even talking about, kiddo?-- leave him utterly flummoxed.
Until he brings out the box. Until he offers it to Wade. Until he says the words "Happy Birthday".
...Oh. Oh.
Wade doesn't follow Jesse's request to flip it over just yet, taking the box in both hands and examining it, testing its weight. He transfers it to one hand, tearing off a glove with his teeth and running his bare hand along the wood. It's not stained and it doesn't have a layer of coat on it, but the cut of the wood is very fine, almost professionally done. He opens the box to see that Jesse has lined the interior with a much darker wood-- possibly more out of necessity than anything else, but it provides quite an eye-catching contrast.
He's completely and utterly speechless. Once again he raises his eyes to Jesse's, trying to catch his gaze.]
When did you make this?
[Forgive his seemingly unenthused reaction, Jesse. He's at a loss for words.]
[ Jesse squeezes at the back of his neck while Wade examines his present. This is the longest thirty-or-so seconds of his Haven career. Life. Whatever you wanna call it. He does look Wade in the eye when the question comes, without lifting his head. ]
Didn't take too long. Couple 'a weeks. Not like my schedule's jam-packed, so...
[Wade is still so shocked by the gift that he barely even hears Jesse's explanation. All he hears is "a couple of weeks". A couple of weeks? To build this? With the lousy conditions and the lack of good tools they have here? Wade finally turns the box over, holding it carefully so that the lid doesn't swing open. What he sees causes him to swallow convulsively; causes something in his chest to tighten almost painfully.
There, painstakingly carved into the right-hand corner of the box, is Wade's patented symbol-- the simple facsimile of his mask. It's almost too much for him to bear. The fact that Jesse remembered his birthday is mind-blowing enough, but to actually have the time and patience to make him a gift like this...? Quietly, Wade turns the box back to its rightful position, one hand upon the lid as if swearing an oath.]
Jesse-- [His voice breaks. He swallows hard and tries again.] I... don't really know what to say. Just... wow. [He finally flicks his eyes back up to Jesse's, his face softened with emotion.]
I think this is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me.
[ The nicest thing? Jesse wasn't prepared to hear that. It's not like he thought Wade would shove it in his face or anything (he'd like to think he knows the guy better than that by now), but the nicest thing? Spoken as genuinely as that? He clears his throat. He can sense warmth gathering underneath the hand at his neck and looks down, pointedly. ]
Ah, nah, it's not really-- [ An awkward little laugh. ] I just, uh, wanted to. Hey, it's not like I can drop by the mall, right?
[ He runs his fingers through his hair once before dropping his arm back to his side and lifting his chin to face him. ]
C'mon. You're like, my best bro here. I had to do something.
[ And that doesn't quite cover it either (Jesse's actually not sure he's ever had a friend this dependable) but he's officially out of words, or simply unable to find the right ones. He chews on his lip and works on calming his nerves. Wade likes it, okay, dipshit, it went fine.
No, but I mean-- [Wade flips open the box again-- carefully-- and traces the inside with a finger. Completely smooth.]
I can barely even see the seams in this. And... and you didn't go against the grain at all, not even once! Choice tools? The fact that you were able to make something this nice at all? In Haven?
[He looks almost awed, even as he tells himself he shouldn't be. Weasel had made him tons of gadgets and gizmos in his heyday, all of them more useful and more flashy than a simple wooden box that hadn't even been stained. But Weasel had had a plethora of the most top-quality tools at his disposal, and all of the things he'd given Wade had been built on request. Not sprung on him like this-- and on his birthday, no less.
Regardless of what tools had been used, this box had been built with love, with the utmost care, and it definitely showed in the quality of the work.]
Shit, kiddo... [Wade's voice is almost a whisper. He lets out a soft chuckle, amused at his own reaction.] You're a goddamn Rembrandt.
[ Well, he's not sure it counts if Haven honed the craft for him, but if he can get some use out of it--
Shit, Jesse feels his embarrassment spike into danger zone levels when Wade starts gushing over the thing. A goddamn Rembrandt? What the fuck? Has anyone ever given him a compliment of that caliber before? He's pretty sure not. He swallows a weird lump in his throat and works hard to find his voice. ]
It's not that good, [ he counters, and he sounds amused too, out of disbelief. ] But hey, what a freakin' relief. I was going crazy trying to figure out what to do.
[ Okay, slowly regaining control. Good. Jesse takes a brave step forward and wears a smile that grows brighter the more genuine he allows himself to be, reaching over to give Wade an affectionate squeeze on the arm. ]
[And now Wade allows a mischievous smile to quirk the edges of his lips. He sets the box carefully on his bed with a sigh of mock irritation, reaching over to flick Jesse's forehead with a finger.]
Dude, I already said that I liked it. You that hard of hearing or are you just fishin' for more compliments now? Friggin' praise-whore.
[Yeah, that doesn't last long. Wade's still over the moon to be given a present like this-- any kind of present would've gotten this reaction really, but something made with this amount of care and thought makes it even more special. Thankfully, he's not too pleasantly flummoxed to suddenly grab Jesse by the shoulders and yank him into a hug.]
Thanks, kiddo. This was an awesome birthday present.
Pft, Jesus-- [ It didn't hurt, of course, he's just overreacting to being called a friggin praise-whore more than anything. Okay, that was funny. ] You can be such a--
[ No chance to finish his return mock-insult. Jesse steps into the hug and hides a stupid grin against Wade's shoulder. An awesome birthday present. Hells yeah. Nailed it. He squeezes both arms around him and lets himself enjoy one of those rare moments, real belief in a job well done.
And it's such a simple, legitimate thing. A birthday gift for his friend. And he actually gave it to its intended recipient. And Wade likes it. ]
Heh. You gonna tell me how old you are now?
[ Oop. Kind of a teasing question, since it's been something of a mystery. ]
[Okay, so that question kind of blindsides him, though he really should have seen it coming. It's his birthday, for chrissakes-- of course someone was gonna ask about it sooner or later. It's just that this question will undoubtedly lead to more questions, and then even more... best not to get into it now.
Wade keeps himself loose and casual; does his best not to move in a way that suggests the question's made him uncomfortable, even if only slightly. He chuckles roughly; somewhat cynically, even as he rubs his knuckles on the top of Jesse's head.]
Thought that was one of the golden rules of manners there, dude. Never ask people their age.
What am I, a boy scout? Screw the golden rules. I wanna--
[ He wants to know! Jesse's unaware of any discomfort on Wade's part. He doesn't know what to think anymore, with all the "kiddos" and that bit about "back in the 60's", but then again Wade doesn't sound like an ancient geezer. Nor does he act like one.
Case in point: argh, a noogie. It works to distract him from insisting on an answer. He pushes at Wade's arms from underneath, protesting the treatment. ]
[Some things are best kept a secret, that's all. And unfortunately, one of the strategies Wade has to moving past an uncomfortable situation is to run from it completely. Which is why he's extremely relieved that Jesse's so easily distracted. With a grin, Wade tightens his grip on Jesse in a proper headlock now,.]
Yeah? Or you'll what?
[Definitely not acting his age right now, whatever that may be.]
[ Don't make him bust out his karate moves on you. With an exasperated noise, he squirms against the headlock to turn and face the other way. ]
You bitch, [ switching tactics, he tries to elbow Wade in the ribs. Not a whole lot of oomph to it and some laughter hidden in his deep voice. ] I'll mess you up, is what.
[ Hard to believe they are both full grown adults. ]
[Wade pulls his hips backward, the better to avoid Jesse's sharp elbow-- not that it would've done much damage, anyway. He tightens his grip on his quarry, rubbing his knuckles ever more insistently into Jesse's scalp.]
Seems to me like there's only one bitch in here... bitch.
[ Even worse than scalp burn is the burn of having his insult thrown back at him. Twice. Jesse grunts disapprovingly and reaches up to make a grab for the offending wrist. ]
Oh, hell no. You're gonna regret that. [ He has the strength of a kitten compared to this tank, he is unfortunately aware. But he's still trying!! ] I know where you live. Bitch.
Oh no. I'm real scared. I'm shakin' in my shoes right now. Don't beat me up, Mr. Pinkman-- I'll give you all the lunch money I have!
[Still trapping him in a headlock, Wade adds insult to the injury of that extremely sarcastic diatribe by momentarily pulling his other hand away from Jesse's head to attack his ribs with intelligent, nerve-seeking fingers.]
[ Not going to let him save face today, huh? Wade continues mocking him outright and Jesse considers aiming a kick to his legs for that alone. ]
Motherfucking, cocksucker-- [ Hallelujah, his filthy mouth is soon corked by muffled laughter. ] No, hey, don't--
[ Well, there goes every flimsy attempt to protect his pride. Yet it's hard for him to quit, even as he resorts to trying to squeeze his head free to escape. ]
You know, I'm only going easy on you 'cause it's your birthday.
Oh yeah, sure. So relieved right now, you have no idea. Gonna get down on my knees right now and thank my dear ol' mom for giving me life on this day so that I don't have to get my ass beat by the terrifying Jesse Pinkman.
Speakin' of which, did you just say somethin' about my mother? You're suddenly kinda hard of hearing there, dude. Try bein' a little bit more articulate.
[His fingers dig once more into Jesse's ribs, continuing their assault for a few more seconds before he finally releases the man from his iron grip. Chuckling, he grips Jesse by the shoulders, cuffing him roughly on the cheek with a fist.]
[ Any retorts he has left are drowned by a bout of helpless chuckling-- so very not thug. Thankfully, Wade shows mercy and finally lets him go. As soon as he's able, he rubs at his ribs as if to erase those persistent tingling sensations.
Also not thug. ]
Prick, [ huffed in response, trying his damned best to sound miffed. It doesn't really work. A cuff against his cheek and the warmth behind the exchanged insults has him grinning again. He pokes the guy in the chest and warns: ] See if I ever make you anything again.
[ An empty threat like all the rest. Lesson learned: only ask Wade about his age if in the mood for harassment. He must be fucking older than he seems. ]
Puttin' a gift horse in a headlock, that's what they call that.
I dunno, you seemed to be lappin' up all the praise I was givin' it before. Wouldn't be surprised if you upped your production by at least 50% just so you could get some more ass-kissing, you little compliment hoarder.
[He rubs Jesse's head roughly; affectionately, like a dog.]
C'mon. Let's get some dinner. It's my birthday, but I guess I could make exception and cook you up some grub. Since you went to all the trouble of gettin' me a present an' all.
Oh really now? Shoulda made a recording of that last conversation just now. You were practically actin' like a teenage girl askin' her crush to the Sadie Hawkins dance. It was kinda cute, actually.
[Damn straight his cooking is really good. If nothing else keeps Jesse coming back, it'd definitely be the sick magic Wade can perform in the kitchen.
With all the practiced flourish of a stage performer, Wade takes a pot out of one of the cupboards and tosses it on the stove, reaching down once again to pull out a few cans. He wishes he could make something a little fresher for once, but experience has taught him to just make do with what's given to him. At least he's getting regular meals from Hatchy this time.]
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no subject
Until he brings out the box. Until he offers it to Wade. Until he says the words "Happy Birthday".
...Oh. Oh.
Wade doesn't follow Jesse's request to flip it over just yet, taking the box in both hands and examining it, testing its weight. He transfers it to one hand, tearing off a glove with his teeth and running his bare hand along the wood. It's not stained and it doesn't have a layer of coat on it, but the cut of the wood is very fine, almost professionally done. He opens the box to see that Jesse has lined the interior with a much darker wood-- possibly more out of necessity than anything else, but it provides quite an eye-catching contrast.
He's completely and utterly speechless. Once again he raises his eyes to Jesse's, trying to catch his gaze.]
When did you make this?
[Forgive his seemingly unenthused reaction, Jesse. He's at a loss for words.]
no subject
Didn't take too long. Couple 'a weeks. Not like my schedule's jam-packed, so...
[ Play it cool. Wait for the verdict. ]
no subject
There, painstakingly carved into the right-hand corner of the box, is Wade's patented symbol-- the simple facsimile of his mask. It's almost too much for him to bear. The fact that Jesse remembered his birthday is mind-blowing enough, but to actually have the time and patience to make him a gift like this...? Quietly, Wade turns the box back to its rightful position, one hand upon the lid as if swearing an oath.]
Jesse-- [His voice breaks. He swallows hard and tries again.] I... don't really know what to say. Just... wow. [He finally flicks his eyes back up to Jesse's, his face softened with emotion.]
I think this is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me.
no subject
Ah, nah, it's not really-- [ An awkward little laugh. ] I just, uh, wanted to. Hey, it's not like I can drop by the mall, right?
[ He runs his fingers through his hair once before dropping his arm back to his side and lifting his chin to face him. ]
C'mon. You're like, my best bro here. I had to do something.
[ And that doesn't quite cover it either (Jesse's actually not sure he's ever had a friend this dependable) but he's officially out of words, or simply unable to find the right ones. He chews on his lip and works on calming his nerves. Wade likes it, okay, dipshit, it went fine.
... the nicest thing??? ]
no subject
I can barely even see the seams in this. And... and you didn't go against the grain at all, not even once! Choice tools? The fact that you were able to make something this nice at all? In Haven?
[He looks almost awed, even as he tells himself he shouldn't be. Weasel had made him tons of gadgets and gizmos in his heyday, all of them more useful and more flashy than a simple wooden box that hadn't even been stained. But Weasel had had a plethora of the most top-quality tools at his disposal, and all of the things he'd given Wade had been built on request. Not sprung on him like this-- and on his birthday, no less.
Regardless of what tools had been used, this box had been built with love, with the utmost care, and it definitely showed in the quality of the work.]
Shit, kiddo... [Wade's voice is almost a whisper. He lets out a soft chuckle, amused at his own reaction.] You're a goddamn Rembrandt.
no subject
Shit, Jesse feels his embarrassment spike into danger zone levels when Wade starts gushing over the thing. A goddamn Rembrandt? What the fuck? Has anyone ever given him a compliment of that caliber before? He's pretty sure not. He swallows a weird lump in his throat and works hard to find his voice. ]
It's not that good, [ he counters, and he sounds amused too, out of disbelief. ] But hey, what a freakin' relief. I was going crazy trying to figure out what to do.
[ Okay, slowly regaining control. Good. Jesse takes a brave step forward and wears a smile that grows brighter the more genuine he allows himself to be, reaching over to give Wade an affectionate squeeze on the arm. ]
You really like it, huh?
[ Thank god. ]
no subject
Dude, I already said that I liked it. You that hard of hearing or are you just fishin' for more compliments now? Friggin' praise-whore.
[Yeah, that doesn't last long. Wade's still over the moon to be given a present like this-- any kind of present would've gotten this reaction really, but something made with this amount of care and thought makes it even more special. Thankfully, he's not too pleasantly flummoxed to suddenly grab Jesse by the shoulders and yank him into a hug.]
Thanks, kiddo. This was an awesome birthday present.
no subject
[ No chance to finish his return mock-insult. Jesse steps into the hug and hides a stupid grin against Wade's shoulder. An awesome birthday present. Hells yeah. Nailed it. He squeezes both arms around him and lets himself enjoy one of those rare moments, real belief in a job well done.
And it's such a simple, legitimate thing. A birthday gift for his friend. And he actually gave it to its intended recipient. And Wade likes it. ]
Heh. You gonna tell me how old you are now?
[ Oop. Kind of a teasing question, since it's been something of a mystery. ]
no subject
Wade keeps himself loose and casual; does his best not to move in a way that suggests the question's made him uncomfortable, even if only slightly. He chuckles roughly; somewhat cynically, even as he rubs his knuckles on the top of Jesse's head.]
Thought that was one of the golden rules of manners there, dude. Never ask people their age.
no subject
[ He wants to know! Jesse's unaware of any discomfort on Wade's part. He doesn't know what to think anymore, with all the "kiddos" and that bit about "back in the 60's", but then again Wade doesn't sound like an ancient geezer. Nor does he act like one.
Case in point: argh, a noogie. It works to distract him from insisting on an answer. He pushes at Wade's arms from underneath, protesting the treatment. ]
Hey, hey, cut it out, yo.
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Yeah? Or you'll what?
[Definitely not acting his age right now, whatever that may be.]
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You bitch, [ switching tactics, he tries to elbow Wade in the ribs. Not a whole lot of oomph to it and some laughter hidden in his deep voice. ] I'll mess you up, is what.
[ Hard to believe they are both full grown adults. ]
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[Wade pulls his hips backward, the better to avoid Jesse's sharp elbow-- not that it would've done much damage, anyway. He tightens his grip on his quarry, rubbing his knuckles ever more insistently into Jesse's scalp.]
Seems to me like there's only one bitch in here... bitch.
no subject
Oh, hell no. You're gonna regret that. [ He has the strength of a kitten compared to this tank, he is unfortunately aware. But he's still trying!! ] I know where you live. Bitch.
[ Yeah. Uh huh. Where I live. ]
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[Still trapping him in a headlock, Wade adds insult to the injury of that extremely sarcastic diatribe by momentarily pulling his other hand away from Jesse's head to attack his ribs with intelligent, nerve-seeking fingers.]
no subject
Motherfucking, cocksucker-- [ Hallelujah, his filthy mouth is soon corked by muffled laughter. ] No, hey, don't--
[ Well, there goes every flimsy attempt to protect his pride. Yet it's hard for him to quit, even as he resorts to trying to squeeze his head free to escape. ]
You know, I'm only going easy on you 'cause it's your birthday.
no subject
Speakin' of which, did you just say somethin' about my mother? You're suddenly kinda hard of hearing there, dude. Try bein' a little bit more articulate.
[His fingers dig once more into Jesse's ribs, continuing their assault for a few more seconds before he finally releases the man from his iron grip. Chuckling, he grips Jesse by the shoulders, cuffing him roughly on the cheek with a fist.]
You little shithead.
[Never has an insult sounded so affectionate.]
no subject
Also not thug. ]
Prick, [ huffed in response, trying his damned best to sound miffed. It doesn't really work. A cuff against his cheek and the warmth behind the exchanged insults has him grinning again. He pokes the guy in the chest and warns: ] See if I ever make you anything again.
[ An empty threat like all the rest. Lesson learned: only ask Wade about his age if in the mood for harassment. He must be fucking older than he seems. ]
Puttin' a gift horse in a headlock, that's what they call that.
no subject
[He rubs Jesse's head roughly; affectionately, like a dog.]
C'mon. Let's get some dinner. It's my birthday, but I guess I could make exception and cook you up some grub. Since you went to all the trouble of gettin' me a present an' all.
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[ He nudges Wade's hand away, affectionately, a beat much too late. ]
Who says I'm that dependent on your praise? Jesus. [ laugh ] What a conclusion to leap to, just 'cause I gave you a box.
[ But despite all that big talk he is already trailing to the kitchen, hungry for Wade's cooking... it's really good, okay. ]
no subject
[Damn straight his cooking is really good. If nothing else keeps Jesse coming back, it'd definitely be the sick magic Wade can perform in the kitchen.
With all the practiced flourish of a stage performer, Wade takes a pot out of one of the cupboards and tosses it on the stove, reaching down once again to pull out a few cans. He wishes he could make something a little fresher for once, but experience has taught him to just make do with what's given to him. At least he's getting regular meals from Hatchy this time.]
Chicken chili sounds good, right?