Vaas doesn’t respond to the whistling and to the way Jack is very clearly checking him out. He’s wearing that shirt to please Jack, sure, but Jack should already know how Vaas reacts to flattery regarding his appearance. He doesn’t respond to them. He can admit the shirt looks good on him, though. It’s tight-fitting, and he’s been in a healthier shape these past few weeks. He grins at Jack, grabbing the jacket from around his waist. He looks great with it off, but he doesn’t bother saying it because Jack already knows. How ‘bout that narcissism, huh? Vaas is certainly not judging, though. He’s alllll for people believing in themselves and reaching for their dreams and all that bullshit.
“Wow. I thought you were fucking around about the fruit basket thing. Thank you! Really. I fucking mean that shit. I appreciate it, annnd I appreciate you.” He does during moments like these. When Jack is giving him a hard time?? There’s nothing he wants to do more than to blow him up. He takes the basket from Jack’s grip too, leading him to his room and away from everybody out here. It’s loud all the time in the compound, but that’s why Vaas has thick walls. He needs peace of mind here and there, and he always hides away in his room when he needs everything to be fucking silent. He brings Jack in, shutting the door behind both of them and grabbing a bundle of grapes from the basket. He eats them right off the stem, motioning Jack to sit down on his mattress. It’s on the floor, so it’s not exactly King treatment, but at least it’s comfortable and large. He exhales heavily, sitting down across from the other man, his joints and matchbook already set nearby. He’s not a fan of sharing, buuut he’s okay with sharing with Jack, especially after he was sweet enough to bring him fruit. Vaas loves that shit.
“You look like you seriously need to relax. This is the mild shit, but it works well on relaxing. You already know this. I have anything you might want, but I really suggest this. Loosen up those muscles, handsome.” He lights up one of the joints, taking the first inhale from it and then passing it over to Jack. If he wants to do something rougher, then Vaas isn’t going to say no. He genuinely fucking wants Jack to take it easy for at least a few hours, though.
Vaas appreciating him makes Jack feel giddy and he laughs before he can stop himself. (It’s affectionate, and very unlike his usual point and mocking laugh.) He quietly follows Vaas, observing his compound along the way. The noise of it is infectious, and then it’s nothing but silence when the door is closed.
Jack takes stock of the room, an eyebrow raised high, but sits down anyway, his face still skeptical about the state of the place. When Vaas sits, pulling up his stash, Jack huffs and scoots closer without any regard to Vaas’ personal space. (Or maybe he does, and he’s just violating it on purpose. He’ll admit he’s wanted to climb the man like a tree since he showed up in that friggin’ shirt.)
“Can’t argue with that, now can I?” He watches the bandit take a hit, licking his teeth and taking the joint when it’s offered to him. He admires the curling smoke for a second before putting it to his lips. “Hmm, When in Rome.”
He breathes in deep, smoke unfurling into his lungs and he holds it there for a second, letting it go with a whoosh through pursed mouth. It’s a very different taste to his cheap cigarettes, but he can feel the haze from it settling over him and he sighs, muscles relaxing slightly. He eyes the man across from him, his already scarce inhibitions lowering and feeling suddenly cheeky, He takes another quick drag and leans toward him in a flash, grabbing the back of Vaas’ neck and pulling him forward until their mouths are pressed hard together, the smoke twisting into the heated space between them.