If Devin is the one who takes the leap of faith, then it is the Fool who rises to catch him. His hands, both gloved and ungloved, cradle Devin's cheek, the back of his neck; he closes his eyes, lifts his chin, and meets him halfway, receiving that kiss so gently, so tenderly. There will be time enough for passion later, for the grasping closeness of two people learning to know each other in private behind closed doors. Later, when Devin feels less like cracked porcelain under his fingertips.

His fingers card softly through the dark hair at the nape of Devin's neck to rest against his shoulder; when he breaks the kiss, it is only to rest their foreheads together again, his eyes closed. A tiny smile curves up the corners of his lips.

"That was," a pause, before his smile warms some, a bit of colour rising to his cheeks. "..very nice." He hesitates. "I would not want to keep you from your obligations," he begins again softly, "but if you've nowhere else to be..." There he trails off and lifts his eyes to meet Devin's again; the plea in them is clear. Stay.