"Alright, uh," Dylan starts after another pause, this one practically carrying the mental image of him raking his tongue over his teeth, connection or no. "I got a bag and a couple of suitcases on the top shelf of my closet. Most of my shit's ... " At the suite, now, clothing-wise, but he doesn't dare say that much, despite feeling relatively sure he's not being eavesdropped on. " ... but my swim trunks are in the second drawer of my dresser."

He has no idea why he hasn't moved that over, too, to be honest, given that the hotel has a pool. Maybe because, with all that's been going on, there really hasn't been time to go for a nice, little swim.