"If I didn't run from you after you had me on that operating table, there's really no point in trying to run now." Birkin sat up, rubbing his wrists. "Besides, even if I tried to run," his hand gestures were a bit too flamboyant, but he was just happy to be able to move again, "there is no way someone who looks like you wouldn't manage to catch up to a scrawny, overly-caffeinated man who hasn't even seen a treadmill in twenty years." He shrugged. The truth was the truth no matter which way you sliced it.

He leaned in a bit closer to Stein. "And to be honest, that was sort of fun." Birkin quickly pressed his lips to the other man's before smirking and laying back down.