"Yeah, no shit," Kavinsky said, looking at what he'd turned out. He did his best work when he was fucked up. He turned away, rummaging for a few seconds, before he found a couple of forks. One he handed off to Steve, while he kept the other to himself.

He started stabbing and shuffling for himself, not really eating so much as picking at it.

"I know." That he was welcome. That Steve liked having him here. That was part of the problem. It was different with Billy, because they'd lived together for months and then, when he was back, they'd gotten married. He still wasn't entirely sure what Steve's angle was on all this, except someone happy to let him behave badly.