Watching over Sands has become far more of a full-time caretaking job since the curse began. It hasn't been all that bad in comparison to other things the agent has gotten himself into, though. In fact, if he'd admit it, some of this has actually been enjoyable for El. The effects of the curse have dulled the sharp edges of Sheldon's personality
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The urge to start yapping is strong. He wants to tell El everything. How it felt, that he's happy, what he wants to do next time, what he wants to do for the rest of the day...
He instead whispers a 'thank you' and hushes up. His plan is to stay here in their sticky pile until El has had enough of him.
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He nods and kisses Sands in return for the thanks. For now, he's rather grateful as well. As the minutes pass, a smile spreads slow on El's lips and quirks into more of a sly grin. He tilts his head a little towards Sheldon and brushes a few strands of hair form Sheldon's face. "It's very quiet. I'm impressed... So, how much longer until you die from it?"
He breathes a laugh and kisses Sands' forehead. The attempt to keep silent is appreciated by the Mexican, but it seems far too unnatural.
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When there's a pause, he knows very well he has to take the opening while it's good.
"I've never locked you out, you know. And I'm glad you don't need me to move back in. I like having my own space. I'm not just trying to get away from you." It's more a 'getting away from everyone'. "You should make dinner more. Eggs get old after a while, no matter how much I like watching you make them." The silk robe and cigarette while cooking are both ridiculous and endearing.
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"...Nice to have you with us. Today we're talking about Mexican'ts and the agents who love them. If I came over and said, 'El, after a long day of making you miserable do you think we could lay around naked in the sunlight?' or 'Hey, can I just take a nap on your couch? I just want to be near you. Teehee.' you would give the 'you want me to shoot the cook?' face and then go in your room until I took it upon myself to wander out of your space.
So instead I just... made up reasons for you to come over. If I kept knocking at your door what kind of example would that set for the others?"
The fact that his only other real employee is Murdoc does not fit into his reality.
"I like my space too. I just like my space with you in it." His tone of voice says 'See? Now is that so hard to understand? Silly muscle'.
"You hate my mexican food." He shrugs helplessly sounding bewildered.
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"Oh. I see. Better that we continue with you making up reasons for me to come over and pretending you don't want me there. That works so well, after all."
He sighs, but it's less annoyance and more 'I have been forced to accept this kind of madness as normal.' The more he learns about what Sands actually means when he says things, the more El has to rethink every moment they've ever spent together. It's like reading a book first and learning the language it's written in after the fact.
"Mexican food? Oh is that what you were trying for?"
He smiles, but the laugh is kept entirely inside.
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Sands blindly stares at him holding in his own laughter. Then he jumps up to straddle El and 'hold him down' pretending it's physically possible.
"I'm sorry? No Habla. Did you say something to me?"
With a grin he pinches El's side.
"I want you to try my pork, El. I want you to take a bite out of my big fat sausage."
Sands emphasizes every other word with either a poke or pinch on any part of torso left undefended.
"I'll cook for you. I'll cook some big hard meat up just for you."
Sands is like those little dogs nipping at a large labrador. They seem to have no idea how much smaller they are or how silly their playing looks to the bigger dog.
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El grins and shakes his head, catching one of Sands' hands in each of his own before bringing them together to wrap one hand around two thin wrists. El's free hand stretches up to pull Sands down to him.
"Sheldon? Shut up."
He grins and kisses that sweet, sarcastic mouth and quiet the agent for just another few moments.
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Unless it's El. When reminded how small he is in this way all Sands can do is give a come hither smile and lean in for the kiss in obedient silence.
As long as his lips are still moving he can work with 'quiet time'.
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