"Yeah, exactly. And ways that we can just... move on. I guess that's the part that bugged the hell out of me." He sighs, rinses one foot, moves to the other. It takes a moment for him to order his thoughts enough to be able to verbalize what he's trying to get across.

"Okay so the other day, when he ended up asking me to fix his gloves after that whole window fiasco. I kissed his hand. He didn't like it, it was too much he told me not to do it again and... we moved on. Went right back to the conversation at hand. no? okay, got it. so about this whole he's wearing your coat thing, that's cute as fuck and as annoyed as he might have been in that moment we were able to pick up and allow him to let it go instead of brooding over it. Does that make sense?" He honestly wasn't sure he was making any kind of sense here.

"I'm gonna try not to nudge him as much or be more obvious before I do it but idle conversation while he's processing things... isn't necessarily a bad thing. I went too far last night, yeah, but it's kinda like... when you stub your toe and it hurts so bad you've gotta bite your knuckles to distract from the ache with something sharper. Conflicting stimuli means your brain doesn't have to hyperfocus on the ho-shit too much." Finally he sighs, letting both of Iggy's feet settle into the water, working a bit of the sand scrub up around his ankles.

"As for the kiss... I put my thumb in the way and it was okay."