He wants to insist it's not-- cuddling. But it sort of is. It probably says something not very great about him that one of the only ones he'll let cling to him like some sort of octopus at night is the guy that used to live in his head, but... whatever. Steven paints a very... pretty little picture. Domestic, rather than the spicier date night talk he'd expect.

He makes a face when Steven grabs for a piece of artichoke. The toilet better not be occupied all night, that's all he's saying. "If you regret that later, it's all on you, Steven."

But-- yeah. Okay. He gives a nod. "Sure. Sure, I can do that."

Maybe. It'll give them something to do at least. He gives a snort though, shaking his head. "Seriously? Well, I doubt we'll be digging trenches. But why'd you want to go to a camp anyway?"