In his defense it's not like hooking ain't a form of contact. And it was a perfectly reasonable conclusion for him to draw.

Drawing smiles and an actual laugh from him is worth the awkward embarrassment of even asking the question. Wash just shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair, shifting to kick up his feet further down the edge of York's bed. He really doesn't smile that much anymore, but it's easy, with York, matching that grin with something almost just as broad, just as bright, and right now, even after everything that's happened, all those years apart, this feels. Familiar. Different, but familiar.

"I'm just saying, man. You can't blame a guy for asking." Seriously it was a perfectly reasonable conclusion to draw. He sharpens his tone, but clearly in jest, feigning some offense. "Besides, I'm the last one you expected? What's that even supposed to mean?"

He's not some blushing virgin okay. Not to mention he's spent a lot of his time recently surrounded by people who basically live in that gutter.

"Fair's fair, if you've got any embarrassing, personal questions for me."