[The quip earns a small snort, delicately contained amusement at the fact that it's just so Hank. Despite everything that's happened, despite the awful aftermath of Akvos and the dreamscapes and every other crazy thing that'd had gone down...there's still room for the quiet back and forth that he's come to appreciate.

Hank's gone in a moment, though, and true to his word Cayde does avert his gaze. It's true, he's seen, and very much appreciated, it all before but there's something different between heated kisses, the press of skin against metal, than there is in this sort of vulnerability. He wants to give Hank this, let him keep some of himself private.]

Yeah, it's not supposed to be like this.

[Perhaps that's not what Hank wants, or needs, to hear. Perhaps it's unhelpful.]

But it is. It is, and it's bad, and it's-

[He stops himself, instead busying his attention to some minuscule, unseen fleck of dirt on one of his gloves. It's what? It's over? Akvos is, yes, but that doesn't mean that they're not still technically prisoners to the Circle.]

it's the bad hand we got dealt. Nothin' to say we can't hand-muck a card or two though.

[Everything's a metaphor, always. But Cayde finally does look up, glancing over to rest his gaze on Hank's bared back.]

Stop that though. You think I would be here if I really gave two shakes? Lemme decide what's 'good company'.