Doesn't work like that, as Ramon should very well know. Random pulls back, standing, moving away from the bed.

And picking up the scarves from the bedside table with idle hands. There are two today, and he turns back to glance at him with a contemplative smile.

"Hand and hand, hands and feet? Both feet? One? What do you think, love. Choose your poison."

Nothing to say he's going to listen to said request.