Good boy, Steve thinks, but is just smart enough to not stay when he feels the faint lean against him. He keeps his head tipped back, hand around Zerxus', breathing deep enough that every breath increases contact minutely, and slow enough to suggest complete calm. It also lets more heat sink into his skin, especially with lighter fabric.

"I was hoping the opulence would extend that far. You don't wanna know what my appetite looks like when it's compensating for any kind of healing or sleep deprivation." Both are already in play and he doesn't expect either one to go away.

Appetite's probably the wrong word given his very human response to the constant smell of blood. Close enough to 'need to eat', though and he's not going to start whining about anything, much less that minor.

"I'm not gonna go anywhere or start having conversations. My soul and I will both be here when you get back." That? Is a promise. It's pretty short term for now, but it's a promise.

Steve... doesn't break those.