He knew they were joking. That they were circling something else all together but the idea of hitting on Doc in a 'way he didn't enjoy', slingshoted him back home. Back to Arlo. Back to the angry abusive man he was trying in all his power to not become. Doc having sat outside of arm's reach was its own statement that he felt directly reflected on his break in temper.

But the darkness's yawning reach snapped back like a rubber band at the casual bump of their knees and boots. It was grounding - someone he knew was alive and real and here, not whatever crawled up out from the back of his head. It made breathing a little easier and a little less hard to draw.

"Might have to get close and share this coat of yours then. Or trade it off. Latent body heat and all.." He shuffled deeper into the coat like he could stock up on the warmth of it and chewed over whether he should reassure Doc that he wasn't that kind of puncher, or if it was pathetic and pointless to clarify what kind of man he was. Wanted to be. "Or we walk back and forth til we're tired or hot, one of the two."