Erik snorts low laughter, turning over his shoulder from where he's manhandling the contents of the fridge. "If he'd had a week to plan he would, I'm sure, have tried to get the entirety of the populace into a one bedroom apartment."

Gelatin secured - at the front of the fridge, he doesn't like, hide it at the back or anything - he turns round to lean on the counter by a hip, arm crossed loose in at least a facsimile of comfortable body language. "This is his idea of small, in which case he thinks he's doing it for me." A shrug, and a flicker of something warm quickly suppressed. "I don't mind. Or at least I won't until any of you start trying to stay the night."