More than making staring hard, it makes Jiang getting himself cleaned up pretty difficult. He doesn't really mind. He runs his fingers through Proko's damp, fair hair, tugging gently.

"Yeah," he says. "I kick a little. Just shove me out of bed if I do it too much."

And there, the unspoken question: not just crashing, but crashing in the bed with him. Staying close, bodies pressed against each other.