There's a part of Kaz that absolutely doesn't want to argue. The leader of the Dregs, the mastermind of a gang that had spent a decade seeking revenge and managed heists that most might have called fairytales. That man that had cut and sliced at those around him to make them as deadly and prepared as he always was, that man wanted to agree with Jesper.

And the man that loved him wouldn't let himself say the words.

"We weren't counting on that sort of attack. Next time we'll know better."

That was the words of a strategist who was unwilling to let go of those he had, the ones that were both at his side, who had his back, and who he would protect.

He nods though when Jesper says they leave, the fight gone from him in that moment. It would likely rear its ugly head once more, and soon, but not right now with the man in his arms. Or, more importantly, whose arms he was in.

So he lets Jesper take him home, get him back to their rooms.

"Don't take long."

It's a comment but there's more to it than that. A need to have Jesper close just as the other needed him near.

So he goes up to his room, and by the time that Jesper gets there, he might well find the other already having stripped off his gloves, even his buttoned shirt removed due to the blood on it. The undershirt still shows stains from the fight but he is still on edge and nervous and removing that had seemed too far. Instead he examines his hands and how much damage there is.