It wasn't exactly a savory experience for Gus, psychic feelings or no. Touching anyone for that long was outside of his comfort zone; touching Jesse Pinkman for that long, moreso. But he remained absolutely still and silent, mouth set in a taut line and waited expectantly--

--for something that never seemed to come. He adjusted his cuff again and resisted the urge to wipe his hand off as Jesse stepped back, eyeing him, then his own hand. "How do you know that?"