The kiss was supposed to be more of a gesture or symbol than anything - a show of the things that, even if Jack had been eloquent enough to vocalize, he had a worry that Zevran might not really want to hear. That was its only saving grace, that it had another component than connection, because something intangible but unsettling just did not click the way it should have. Which honestly made sense, in an unfortunate way. Even losing a leg had made Eugene withdrawn and unwilling to touch for an unwelcome length of time. Dying - and not just dying, being killed . . . well. Jack couldn't say he would have been feeling very frisky, either.

So he swallowed quietly and gave Zev his breathing room again, huffing a chagrined noise of not-quite amusement as he leaned his head onto his shoulder. ". . . yeah, probably too soon." He gave his neck a rueful look, then pecked it lightly, bowing lower to get under his arm, unconsciously taking to the left. Most things were easier when you had an old model to follow. "This is probably a state better experienced on the couch, anyway. Come on."