Yeah. Hard to separate people into good and bad when there are helpful pirates muddying the waters. [A touch of self-deprecation there -- Koby knows his urge to rigidly categorize doesn't hold up in the real world. People aren't that simple.

Including Quentin, even as he laces their fingers together, as he smiles with carefree ease. There was something there, gliding like a shadow beneath quiet waves. Koby unconsciously leans forward, intent, like he can pull the secrets free by just gazing up at that smile. Then he lets it go, slipping through his fingers, disappearing into the depths.

Quentin will reveal things in his own time, if he chooses to or -- or he won't. Koby doesn't need to unravel him like a snarled net to enjoy being here, breathing in his scent, resting his cheek on Quentin’s bare shoulder.] Yes, it was very taxing to pour it into a mug and walk upstairs. My culinary skills have been exhausted. [A pause, then he seems to remember something, straightening up and pulling -- an entire jar of jam out of his pocket.]

Almost forgot, sorry.