"That one's from home, actually," he answers the familiar chuckle, smiling as he inserts the attachment of Iago's ear into the concave 'bridge' of his nose, letting his eyes close into the familiar curls, "although the meaning of it had faded away. So, I-a-go-sa-N," he nuzzles in wrigglishly, legs getting a better grip, inching him up, so he can nip the lobe of the ear he's attending to, "now that you know, how will you lay your hands on what's yours?" He cranes around, arms not letting go, to toy with the knob of vertebrae at the back of his neck, and adds into it, lips curving, "I really want to know," before he bites, just a little.