"I'm checking to see if you've got a concussion," he replies, but he doesn't take his hand out of Jim's hair yet, still searching and dismissing any small bumps as things that he'll ice when they get back to the apartment. When he stands, he sways a little, bending down to haul Jim to his feet so he can sling an arm around his shoulders. "Why would you wanna give up that beautiful house?" he wonders. "If anyone's moving, it's me. My apartment's just a place I sleep and sometimes I barely even do that, with all that I'm staying with you lately."

He does give Jim a curious look. "You'd be okay with me moving in, then?"