Kyle snorts, but he smiles. It's rare that Quentin's harmless dramatics don't amuse him. "You wrecked your shirt, dumbass," he says kindly.

When Quentin sits up he goes to him easily, hands moving to slip Quentin's shirt off of his shoulders. "I know," he says. "I believe you. I can tell when you're lying, for one thing. For another you have no reason not to clear the place. I'm cool."

He nuzzles into Quentin again. "For seriously. Plus it's like... I'm a little nervous, but in a fun way." He rains kisses all along Quentin's neck to his shoulder.

"I have stuff in my bag."