[ A laugh coughs its way into a hum as Silco's weight becomes mostly his to bear, more than happy to worm a hand out from the sprawl of them to sink fingers into sleep mussed hair, make a bigger mess of what's usually kept so carefully controlled. ]

You know, I would, but I seem to be a little impeded at the moment.

[ An exaggeration. The difference in stature is enough that he could have them both up - or at least his own way cleared - in a moment were Silco not to provide any active resistance. But if he's going to play it this way, Stephen's more than happy to take full advantage. Stay a few more moments to appreciate those wandering ministrations, tilting his head back just so to display the stretch of his throat, make way for his mouth. ]

[ It's a mistake, perhaps, he realises a little later than is useful. Silco makes a meal of him and Stephen's rapidly wide awake, pulse kicking, fingers curling loose into sheets. A hum of satisfaction cuts abruptly with a gasp, and after the hand in Silco's hair tightens its grip so he can hold him in place as he all but surges up and in for a kiss that threatens passion— but pulls back, sweet at the last second. Less caution than care. ]

Oh? Okay.

[ Stephen settles back into the pillow, glowingly satisfied with the smarting skin at his throat, and lets his hand slip from Silco's hair to trail fingertips down the length of his spine, palm going flat so he can grab a handful of his ass, squeeze, flirt fingers down toward the cleft.

And then he's heaving himself out from under Silco's drape in one determined rush and padding off in all his unkempt layers in search of the spare medical supplies he'd set aside the night before. He sheds as he goes, draping pieces of clothing over the back of Silco's single chair. Acquires a new one from nowhere along the way, returning to him clad only in boxer briefs and a light robe. ]

Say ah.

[ Flat, with a suitably obnoxious mostly-straight face even as his eyes all but sparkle with fun, offering the tip of the thermometer out when he perches back on the bed edge. It's relatively clear his motivation is at least 60% to be annoying. ]

[ It breaks his expression at the very least, smirk creeping in (nice parry), but he goes ahead and sticks the thermometer right in there anyway. Chucks Silco's chin to encourage his mouth closed with a wry little twist of that smirk before he angles away to fuss with dressings and wipes, hiding a more earnest smile. ]

Under the tongue.

As expected, huh?

[ A mild tease. He saw the state of him when he first arrived, spent enough time with him after to know there's a non-zero chance he'd anticipated the sweet embrace of death at some point in the hours before, if not the hours after. Stephen's anticipated it for less: even a bad hangover can be enough to signal the end while you're in it, and this was no hangover.

Peeling the existing bandage back, Stephen seems - if not pleased, then certainly not displeased by what he finds underneath. It's easier today to handle the open wounds, the fresh vile mess of it seeming mollified a little by his early hours efforts. He draws antiseptic around the edges, over unbroken skin, with the same old pragmatic focus. ]

Yeah. Seems you'll live.

[ Sets his work into place with fresh bandages, letting the old go swallowed up in airborne in a little magician's flourish. It dies before sparks can drop and catch. Not quite a lollipop at the end of the appointment, but something close.

The catch of his chin and swift inward lean to land a peck on his well-behaved forehead before he can protest it maybe something closer still. ]

How's your stomach? Try something plain?

[ A huff of a laugh. Fine. He's been allowed more leeway than he expected, he won't push for more and risk shutting down the entire operation. ]

I'm gonna eat. Want me to leave you for a while?

[ For a while, an offer not a threat. He'll be back sooner or later whether Silco takes the respite of his parting for breakfast or not, but he's willing to give him some of the space he'd so adamantly craved when Stephen first showed up invited now he's not so deep in the pit of it. ]

Yeah? Think you could stomach food in the room?

[ He was willing to let it go, but if Silco will create a self-inflicted opening in the conversation, he's not not going to take advantage of it. There's a knowing little look that says he doesn't actually have to answer.

In real response to the offer, he abandons the bed again to wander to the door, sticks his head out. True to form, a staff member is exactly where he needs them to be, and he makes his (very specific this time, fool him once) breakfast request, playfully citing the need to tend a patient to excuse them both from going down. Returns to this time climb back in properly, shedding his robe and shooing Silco out of the way to make space for himself to tuck in under the covers. ]

[ Lips at his shoulder, hand on his hand, body tucking in against his side. The closeness fizzes warm, comfort without imminent threat. He curls his fingers, reaches his thumb to catch and stroke along Silco's. Leans in against him, peering down at Silco and their joined hands below as he considers the question. ]

Apparently the guy dealing the stuff says kelp's a key ingredient. [ He's spoken to Iggy in the interim between dinner and now, learned that little tidbit. ] If it is kelp [ palpable doubt ] it's magically supercharged kelp.

[ Which is his answer. There's no drug he knows, now or in the future he's seen, that can do what this has done in the span of time it's done it. ]

[ Down Silco goes. Stephen hovers over him, tender under gentle touch and the trust inherent in seeing him like this, letting the moment stretch for as long as it can after Silco utters the sentence that ushers him off to duty. He could deny it. State the local clinic staff have the situation under control, that this kind of medical practice has never been his wheelhouse anyway. But he did accept a responsibility. And he knows full well that at least one of his residents will be down there running themselves ragged before long.

A deep breath goes followed by a sigh. Stephen, rendered too fond to stop himself, ducks down to press his forehead to Silco's before drawing back entirely. Leaning to collect the tray, sit back for one last long look at him. ]

Rest. And if you feel anything going too far sideways, call.

[ Reluctant, he stands. Tray in one hand, he draws pinched thumb and finger down the midline of his body with the other, and in a second is dressed in easy basic layers, ready to get covered in whatever his self-ascribed rounds have in store for him. A smirk, a wink, and he turns to let himself out the way most people come and go: the door. Abandoned robes still hanging over the back of Silco's chair an unspoken guarantee that he'll be back. ]