"Like, something like it at least. All my shit would work on you. Duh." It was the same dismissive air he used for all his shit. That was just the way things worked, after all. Dream logic. He was suddenly very aware that Steve hadn't actually seen him dream anything, here in Hell. Part because Kavinsky hated to stay over and sleep around him, and part because he had even more fine control in Hell than he'd ever had back in the real world.

Steve came over and started draping on him, and Kavinsky wiggled and squirmed like he wanted him to get off, but he didn't really. He hated that.

"Just snacks, man. I'm gonna make snacks if you get off my ass." He didn't sound like he wanted Steve to get off him at all. "It's--it's easier here than back home, but it's never been hard."