"It's your turn to do the dishes," Glenn said as he shoved a plate none-too-gently into Daryl's stomach. Daryl looked down at the plate that was laden with silverware and a single glass cup that hadn't moved with the jostling. He took it slowly, lifted all the forks and spoons off, then turned the plate over. The cup remained where it was.
When he looked up at Glenn, the other man was already sitting on the couch with the Xbox controller in hand, the system powering up. Daryl snarled to himself and growled. He flipped the plate back over and stomped off to the kitchen. Made a lot of noise as he dropped all the silverware into the sink and banged what pots and pans there were on the counter.
"Don't break anything!" Glenn called from the other room.
"I'll break your face if you don't shut up," Daryl muttered to himself so Glenn couldn't hear him.
Glenn had heard something, though, because he called again, "What was that?"
"I said I ain't breaking anything!" Daryl shouted and crashed the saucepan into the stew-pot for emphasis. "Why you always gotta wait until your shit is crusted on to bring it out here, anyway?"
"That was yours," Glenn countered. "I cleared it out of the garage."
Any retort Daryl had was cut short and settled for fuming across the next half hour. He still banged things around, but he didn't direct the banging at Glenn. When he finished, he grabbed a beer from the fridge and made his way out to the couch. Flopped down on it for a second before laying himself out with his head on Glenn's thigh. He grabbed the kid's hat off his head with deft fingers, then plopped it over his own face.
Glenn paused his game, reached over to tilt the brim of the hat up as he smirked down at Daryl, "Feel better?"
Daryl pushed his hand away and pulled the hat even further down. Crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. Glenn just laughed and went back to his game.
Yes, he did feel better. But like hell was he going to give Glenn the satisfaction of saying it aloud.