As Tavros wrapped his arms around him, Gamzee let out a relieved little huff of his own, draping his arms over Tavros' shoulders and resting his wrist on the other's horns as he left a firm kiss on the brownblood's forehead. "So motherfuckin' warm," he muttered quietly.

While sure, it was a bit of a struggle to keep himself from being hyperaware of their surroundings, Gamzee did his damndest to simply focus on Tavros, the warmth of his hand, the scent of his skin and hair, the pulse he could feel. "Look, I know you got your worry on about a lot when it's me you're up and dealin' with," he rumbled, "but look bro, I ain't never gonna do somethin' you gotta be up an' worryin' over. I'm better now. Verbal. Got my motherfuckin' eloquence on. You instrumental in all of it, you got me to wantin' to speak. And I told you before, it's 'cause of you I still got any motherfuckin' desire even left in me. Goes for me-all. So what you sayin', me gettin' locked up or what? It ain't gonna happen. Other side of shit's all got his want on to just be locked up again, ain't no good for nobody, he says. 'Cept you. And like I was tryin' to preach on before we got all fuckin' sidetracked on his shit, is that he ain't been active enough in gettin' there, in findin' a reason to be." He gave an actual, somewhat warm smile, and brought Tavros' hand up to kiss it.

"Ain't gonna let him just let our shit stagnate when there's good we can be doin'. And findin' good for us, too."