"Sounds great, Billy," Nida says. "Just give me a second. I'll find you."

He doesn't bolt off through the people, mostly because he is a Mr. Professional Spy and Seducer of Men. Just... not professional spy and accidentally perceive your friend being friendly and supportive as seducing you. Man. It doesn't roll of the tongue nearly as well. He does duck into the kitchen for a few minutes to calm down (he might put his head in the fridge), and after only a few minutes he's back with a plate stacked high with potato wedges.

And look, smiling again. Because somehow in the time that it took him to remind himself not to blush and don't fall for your best friend, he's managed to get himself pumped up over the idea of more time alone. With Billy. Just them.

Yes, he's going to kill himself with playing with fire here. He doesn't care. There... there is something amazing and addictive about feeling this way. He feels strangely alive in a way he hasn't in a long time. Like hunting monsters, similar sort of thrill. Is that weird? Definitely weird.

"Back," he announces when he refinds Billy. "I'm going to work you so hard to get all this oil and starch out of your system."