Despite the admission creating a ton of questions in his mind- how can a man like that really not know what he's doing when it comes to damn near anything? Fake it 'til you make it, he guessed- he went stock still with but a simple gesture.

Marigold quickly rose in his face before he cleared his throat.

"Oh, uh- well- I suppose this would be a rare consensual blood-letting, wouldn't it?" He really wished he hadn't sounded so husky, there.

He jerked a thumb to the sofa. "I got real woozy last time, so at least here, I don't need to be carried somewhere. Keeps us both comfy."

To give himself some air, keep himself from fidgeting, he moved on ahead, and dismissed his hat and coat with a bit of magic to send it hanging on a nearby rack.

He had to wonder if he needed to give some sort of line, a proposition... but it wasn't like Alastor knew, either. They really were just winging this. When he took a seat he straightened up, smoothed down his shirt, and... um, hm. Wondered.

"Soooo... how about a safe word, then?"