"I do take you seriously," Billy disagrees, and pauses abruptly again, because somehow those words sound...not wrong, exactly, just...incorrect? Yes. "I mean, you're a really good friend, I trust your opinion. And you're really cute, so I mean, who wouldn't appreciate a cute boy telling them they're cute? Anyway, if they're sending us something for my supposedly great cheekbones, then they better send us some eyeliner, too, because you'd be super swoonworthy." This isn't getting any better. God, Kaplan, if you keep going, he's going to think you're flirting with him, and not just joking, and that isn't something friends do. Don't screw this up. Better to just dial it back. Keep it light.

The smile he offers is a little self-conscious, his voice maybe a little bit higher. "Wingman, huh? You going to find someone to fix me up with? I'll have you know, I'm pretty picky." He isn't thinking about that. He's been not thinking about a lot of things, especially anything Teddy-adjacent; even before he got here (has it really been two months? god) it had been weeks since he'd heard from Teddy at all, and anything related to what he'd done to what they had was like rubbing salt in an open wound. But this time, maybe, it hurts a little less to think about. Just a little, but it's something, and something surprising.