"Aa," he sighs, "but he 'has limited tolerance for my tricks;' I thought I could probably get away with one, and I needed to save it to get his protection for not just me if I work for him. So I thought I'd better trust you." He reaches up to brush Iago's cheek, and sort of forgets to take his hand down. "That's true in an absolute sense," he allows gently, zoning in on Iago's face as he generally doesn't in public, the softness of it enhanced by fatigue and the subtle color of his fuzz, "but I let you make me a pledge, ne, and I keep that pledge and its maker as the bed and armor of my heart. What right would I have to do that if that heart wasn't his in the first place?" He touches Iago's face softly, brushing over his mouth, the other hand squeezing his, and gives a rueful smile. "I hoped you'd be able to use that--and I had to leave it to you, Iago-san; I can defend you--but he's a little overwhelming in person, ne? Will you tell me what happened? His hands aren't strangers to me and they aren't repulsive, but," he squeezes fiercely, "you are my person. So, can you tell me what was said, and then we can see what to make of it?"