It's an acceptance he wasn't quite expecting. Being an adjunct while Washington recovered, before he had his life back as he knew it? He could wrap his head around that. But having a place in that life was not on the table, not as he'd understood it.

It seemed once again, he'd assumed incorrectly.

Tucker touching Wash touching him, a chain that was forging itself here in front of their eyes, a connection that in months prior he might have shied away from. Instead, there's a thread of longing there, a weariness to his eyes as they lift. This is for Washington, in truth, but Locus has been alone for a long, long time.

He doesn't like it as much as one might assume, given his introverted nature.

"I would hate to disappoint," he finally manages, the dry, crackling edges of a joke, even if his expression remains dead solemn.