"Nope."

Kavinsky knew he was invited, but there was something about performance, about reminding himself that he didn't want to be here, or that he could just be annoying enough that Steve would stop worrying and caring so much.

Now that the door was open, Kavinsky went right in like he hadn't just been being as obnoxious as possible at the door.

"Hey," he said, "you got any of that liquor that even fucks you up?"