"Hey, I think you've got character. Every bit seems to have a story. Not everyone can say that," he returns, though it is true that most people can't afford to get hit in the face, he didn't think he could either even if he never wore a helm when fighting.

"But you'll learn, I'm an ass. Broke your arm and bragging about socks is just the beginning." He'll shift, finally moving closer now that their talk was dissolving in stupid jokes, a hand coming to his shoulder the other to his chest in a gentle push to try and get him down on the couch, following with his own body to press his lips against the exposed bit of Jim's neck. Once there, he presses his mouth against his skin and blows.