"Oh. Too bad." Since, you know, for one thing it means Joker isn't getting rest he's going to need tomorrow, and, for another, it means he has to deal with... with whatever this is. Whatever is still making Ginko's breaths come short and shallow. At least Joker is, somehow, light enough not to make it worse. It's a little rough being crammed into this tight of a space, but he doesn't know that it's actually worse than being down here by himself.

Maybe being crammed up against his boyfriend is actually better than being crammed up against the crushing weight of their near-hopeless situation and his own inability to do anything about it. Joker is, at least, a hell of a lot warmer than the uncaring void.

Ginko squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, lifting his hands to rest blindly on Joker's back. As if that's going to do any good. His breath catches in his throat, like something between his chest and mouth has gotten squeezed shut and clogged up, only allowing the occasional, painful bubble of air through. "Wh-why'd you move?"

As if he's not right on the edge of clinging to Joker as if his life depends on it.