Ah, shit-- [said with a chuckle, warm and sheepish and embarrassed and tremendously relieved all at once. He leans in to hook his arm around Yngvi's shoulders and hug him, mindful of the nug in his lap of course. Two things could (or probably should) be readily apparent: Kit gives great hugs, while simultaneously seeming like closeness is something that doesn't belong to him. Like he's giving something away with it.

When he draws back, he's smiling crookedly, and squeezes Yngvi's shoulder again.] You want to come out for a pint? [he invites him at last--might be nice to drink, play some cards, talk a bit of nonsense shit for a while.]