A light fluttering sensation fills Devin's chest when the Fool leans over the table to kiss him, soft and warm and indescribably reassuring. He lets out a breath he had not realized he was holding and likewise closes his eyes for just a moment. He's fine. He's great. He might even be approaching giddy, which is an entirely foreign emotion for him, and part of him wants to stifle it if only so he can't know what he's missing out on - but he does know, now, what he has, and what he has to lose. It's terrifying and amazing, and all unnoticed Devin's hands have found the soft curve of the Fool's neck and the narrow taper of his waist--

--the Fool asked a question. Right. Logistics, that's something Devin knows well enough and is not going to immediately lead to them skipping dinner. "Hm." A thoughtful start, and also a bit of a stall while he gets his tongue to cooperate. "Somewhere near Malimo, maybe? For your work." Maybe not in Malimo proper, given rent prices, but near enough. Walking distance, or a Skyway stop. "Or a little further out, there are townhouses that might give you more separation between studio and living space."

See? Less poleaxed now. And grinning without realizing it.