Kavinsky, as always, let himself in. The cold had sunk into his bones while he'd been out, but he felt warm all over, from his lower belly all the way to his toes and his fingertips. As soon as he was in the door, he started to shuck the layers he'd put on, still holding his grocery bags.

"You would not believe the fucking day of it," he said. His voice came out all husked and breathy, and there was nothing for that. He shivered a little bit, just listening to his own voice. Looking up from the door to Al and Newt sat neatly in the front room, neat and beautiful boys that they were.

Kavinsky leaned against the door, suddenly overwhelmed at the sight of them both, his brain filled with a lot of filth. A flush rushed over his cheeks. "...'m gonna go put the groceries away."