He makes a soft hmm sort of noise, for want of anything else to add to the conversation. Fortunately, there's little to say--where he might be inclined toward quiet talk with someone else, Amos has never been a chatterer. What he could offer now wouldn't be received with more than a laconic answer.

Instead, in the silence after Amos speaks, Gideon reaches into his jumpsuit, his hand moving over the hard muscles of Amos' side and back. It is to say, yes, this is fucking nice, though I might have chosen a different phrase to describe it.