It was a measure of how distracted they'd been that they'd ended up in Llewellyn's flat, since the door to Steven's was the first one they'd passed by on their way down the corridor. But at the time such details barely registered, let alone seemed to matter. One of those moments more about the journey than the destination, as it were.

Not that the destination hadn't been nice as well.

Likewise, when the time came it made sense to stay right there and drift off to sleep, comfortable in Llewellyn's arms.

Which was where Steven was come morning, his back pressed up against Llewellyn's chest, and still sleeping well past the sunrise.