[Quentin reminisces, and Koby smiles brighter, warmer with each recollection, nodding along -- of course he remembers, the bath and the bed and the desk, the lake, the sun, of course.]

I remember all of it. [Soft, pressed close against Quentin, hand tracing the line of his cheek, thumbing over the lines that appear when he smiles, the crinkle-eyed grin he adores so much.] I remember every day with you. Every moment. [He doesn't let any of it blur into mundanity, even the long lazy mornings spent quietly chatting beneath the covers, delaying getting up until Quentin suddenly springs up, stretching and yawning like a bear and announcing he needs breakfast -- or until Koby squirms a little closer and slips a hand up under Quentin's shirt, coaxing them into staying beneath the sheets a little longer. Koby sears it all into his mind, remembers the taste, the feel, the smell of each day, each hour, revels in it like a pirate king with his hoard.

And he laughs, wiggling closer, scrunching his nose at the cheeky grab, at the playful lightness in Quentin's face, his warm eyes, his bright grin.] Well, I did bring dinner up, but...we can always reheat it if... [Koby glances over at the newly-made bed, arches both eyebrows.] If you want to properly christen our new home?