Tidus huffs lightly, puts on the offence. "You calling me a special kind of dumb?"

But he knows Inigo isn't, tone too jovial to be mistaken otherwise, another small huff following that fades into a chuckle. He notes however, that the air between them, that wallowing and the grief seems to be soothing. It's not as heavy or as pained when Inigo speaks, or when neither of them do.

His hand slips to rest on Inigo's shoulder, to hang there instead.

"But I don't mind. A few stupid moments for all the rest? Sounds like a good trade to me." He lets his head lull against the other's, his body relaxed. Content.