"I don't know, Steven. Are we good?" Marc lifts his head a bit and glances over his shoulder even though Steven's not physically standing there. "I haven't told you everything. And you haven't told me how you're coming to terms with it all." Marc's suspecting not well, but they can work through it together.

"Yeah? I might be unteachable," Marc warns, throwing the towel over behind a stool and picking up the whiskey glass, making his way over to the bed. It's all soft and weird and he's not sure how the same body can be used to two different ways of sleeping, two different diets, two different everythings. But he's not going to question it too much.

"We'll see what happens with the blanket," Marc teases as he settles onto the edge of the bed and drinks a bit more. "You look like a blanket hoarder to me, Steven..."