Davian snickered. No, he didn't need two desks. He didn't need the desk he had, except that it was a place to put his empty bottles of orange juice. He was about to suggest that Caleb give him his bed - having two beds made much more sense! - when the siren brought up socks. Socks without a match.
Dark eyebrows spiking up, Davian grinned again, his spade tipped tail twitching. "Do tell, Caleb! What happened to the sock's match? You run out of tissues?" Bracing his chin in both hands, Davian's eyes wandered down Caleb's bare torso to his crotch.