Jesse's curled up like a cat, practically purring. Walt loves him like this, no bravado, no bullshit, just Jesse - utterly oblivious to how beautiful he is when he just... cuts it all out.
The first time they kissed, out in the middle of nowhere, pressed up against the RV with the sun beating down; the first time they fell into Jesse's bed (which smelt surprisingly inviting); the first time Walt watched Jesse in bliss: teeth catching his lip, eyes drifting closed. All this is etched in Walt's memory, like indelible ink, never to fade.
And afternoons like this will be taken to Walt’s grave, when the shit storms and pain and the threat of death are all cast aside, and he just watches Jesse dozing: naked and curled up like a cat, one arm slung casually across Walt's waist, his face peaceful and serene, no bravado, no bullshit...