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shh—— ( he starts, but he actually has to swallow the mouthful of cake before he actually says anything. his eyes roll, finishing off the last of the cupcake in hand before joining jean, finding a spot ... in his lap, actually. ) fine. they're good.
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⠀( the sight of his puffed out cheeks earns a quiet snort from the taller man who puts the plate down on floch’s bed before sitting next to it, arms supporting his weight behind him. ) yeah, i know it’s pretty good.
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hm .. mm. ( shoulders lift up into a shrug, keeping his gaze averted. before he responds, he goes for another, bigger bite. his cheeks are all puffed out. silent chewing. that might be answer enough. )
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if he'd had more energy, he might throw out a little quip. something like, ' wow, you really like hearing yourself talk, don't you ? ' because jean just keeps finding the words to say and they come out so easily. even for someone like floch, who's given
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he listens without interrupting, just like floch had done for him seconds before. his own breathing stays steady next to floch’s ragged one, partly deliberate, hoping the calm rhythm might get the other to slow his down. arms are gentle around him,
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he really just .. doesn't know what he's supposed to say. but that hand that'd just fallen, it slowly creeps back up, stiff movements that he pushes through. it soon comes to weakly take ahold, clutching at the fabric of jean's shirt. a part of him .. it does
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