"Ramon. She's a PMSing bitch from a backwater shadow with a little magic stick that goes 'poof.' She doesn't know me, she doesn't know Amber, and she doesn't know that nothing she'll be able to do will hurt me. I want you to stop worrying."

He kisses him, more firmly this time, though still carefully, and something about the way he's holding on to Ramon changes from a clutch to--- keeping him safe. Against him.

They are lovers, after all.

"You are going to stop worryying about this. There's nothing she can do. We kept Martin out of the bar for exactly this reason, too."