"Really? We're doing that?" Psyche practically sing songs, not even protesting as he jumps on Izaya's waist and sets to removing the jacket. The options aren't many and while it wasn't the first thing on his mind, he can actually conceptualize the merits of this "stress relief". Psyche might toss away the fur-lined jacket carelessly but there's only warmth in the way he snakes his arms around the informant's chest. He bumps his nose against Izaya's neck nearly lovingly but there's an edge in his tone when Psyche whispers into his ear, "we're going to help Iza-chan and then Iza-chan is going to help me. So let's do our best, ne?"