( it's the only moment that he's considered where all these extra limbs may be a problem, because now palamedes has so many opportunities to keep him tethered, and while he doesn't mind it on principle--doesn't mind it, either, when he's thinking of it in other ways, less polite ways, ways that he shouldn't encourage with his thoughts--it does mean that it's much harder for him to close up like a clam in its shell. it means that his shoulders slide forward, a little clumsy, and one of his hands lands on palamedes' thigh, keeping himself from sliding just too close, or abruptly into his lap.

there's a soft chuckle, fond and wryly amused, under his breath--but it feels like he might just sink himself into his sweatshirt and melt away, at the words. harder to do it when he's not in his robes, with all the extra material to sink inside: all he can do here is purse his lips and angle his gaze down.

he considers the question, thoroughly serious, and his mouth opens--then closes, a slow sigh of breath. )

I want... I want you. No, that-- ( his eyes narrow, staring down at where his hand is squeezing around palamedes' thigh, and loosens his grip. ) --is what I mean, but that is not. ...Gentleman...ly.

( so he tries again, slowly. ) I like all of it, too. I want more of it. I just don't...Mmnn, I don't know if... Does it also feel like that, when you're around...me? Like it's... All warm, like your head isn't on right, like...wanting...like that.

( his eyes narrow, lidded and rimmed with their usual exhaustion; but he does, at least, look back up at palamedes, because this deserves his calm intent, his patient observation. )