[ The kiss to his nose has him making an expression more reminiscent of a happy fox than anything else, blinking opening his eyes after the peck to see Jim's face swimming closer. On impulse, he presses a kiss of his own to Jim's cheek and brushes a hand up the back of his neck, black nails scrubbing up through short hair in a lazy petting motion. ]

Art thou — hel, [ catching himself before he goes full-blown Thor, he re-structures his words with visible effort, because he's a woosy Silvertongue and it's out to play, ] are you free to hang out much longer? No plans, no people on their way to drag you away?

[ A hopeful brow arches inquiringly. ]

Because I could totally throw some spells at them to hold you hostage.