No, it doesn't help Devero's nerves at all, to sit beside Koumyou while he smokes and thinks. But he endures it, looking nearly like a penitent as he sits with his hands clasped and his head bowed.

That bowed head lifts, Devero finally, finally managing to actually look at Koumyou. His dark eyes are guarded, that beaten hound still anticipating a raised hand. He assesses Koumyou's expression for a long, long moment; whatever he sees there satisfies him. He nods and lowers his eyes again. "Thank you."

A long exhale through his nose. "A person should be responsible for their own soul anyway, I should think."

Koumyou has said nothing about Devero's confession of carnal attraction, and where he comes from, that's answer enough. He squares his shoulders and sits up straighter on the lounger. "Attraction on my part doesn't entitle action on yours," he recites, his voice subdued but even. (That relative calm is belied by the way he worries his Interface between his thumbs.) "Being attracted to you isn't what h-hurts me, it's the fear of what would happen if I can't control my actions because of that. I don't want to use you."

He stands slowly and turns to face Koumyou, wiping a hand across his mouth as he does. He has to swallow before he can continue, and he's back to looking anywhere but at the Sanzo's face. "I swear to you that I'll be able to control my-- m-my interest around you. I won't be inappropriate. But I may need some s...space sometimes, that's all."