"You say that like I want to be around any other time," Kira says, tone unchanged, following Jax out the door regardless. He's yet to be given a coat, and sees no reason to relinquish his blanket cape. If he wasn't previously the type to wander around like a sleepy child on Christmas morning, fuck whatever type he was.

God, he wants this drink.

Kira's never had anything to qualify as an old lady in his life, but he'd been in that situation a few times. It does get ugly; he rolls his eyes anyway. "Left the ring at home, I guess," he says, remembering the pale ring of skin on one of Jax's hands, back in the flickering light of the kitchen. There'd been more than one, honestly, maybe some kind of class ring, but he doesn't really care where or if Jax graduated.