While Wembley was scooting over bit by bit, Gobo was scrunching up into the rest of the couch, and though it would go unseen there was a brief glare up from underneath the blanket. Then, left with either the choice of fold double or get off the couch entirely, he took a third option and just stretched back out, across Wembley's lap this time. He turned over a bit so he was 'facing' him, though the covers- save over the end of his nose -obscured everything, and one arm stretched out while the other stayed folded close to rest against Wembley's side. There was a half-grumbled "Stop shakin' the couch, eh" and then he settled in.