Josh grimaces and flushes a little. "Um, yeah, sorry about your junk," he offers sheepishly. "And thanks. For not letting them haul me out to the alley and kneecap me." Or worse. He's well aware it could have easily been much worse than that', which he'd been willing to accept at the time, but is more than pleased, in retrospect, to have not had to endure, and he gives Dwayne another grin. The kind that makes him look considerably younger than his twenty-seven years and a lot less intimidating than his size should dictate.

"Not a lotta guys can put me down like that." It doesn't sound nearly as arrogant as that kind of statement could, but then it's pretty clear there simply aren't a a lot of guys who fight in Josh's weight class, and almost none of them move the way he does. He's ridiculously light on his feet for the giant of a man he is, and if Dwayne had been any slower or weaker things probably would have gone a completely different direction. Possibly a direction involving guns and hefty bags, so all's well that ends well... ish.

"An' I'm good, just need a sec." He waves a hand and shifts his weight again, making sure his balance is good. It's not like he isn't well aware he's concussed, he's had enough of them in his life to be more than familiar with the experience, but he figures this one's not bad enough to slow him down much or for long. He manages the couple steps to his phone just fine, though he is careful about bending to retrieve it. "Don't worry." And there's that smirk back as he glances up at Dwayne before heading back to the bed. He'll just... make his call while sitting, thanks. "You're plenty hot even if you are well into 'don't trust anyone over thirty' territory."