"Sandwiches, even better."

Tommy burns through calories like a furnace, and if he's going to make the most of Clem's time, he'd better refuel.

Pulling up his underwear and pants but not bothering to zip or button up, he crosses the room to inspect the contents of the mini-fridge. His slight crouch inevitably creates the plumber effect.

But at least he'd been told that his ass looked nice in those jeans.

"You want anything?" He grabs a deli-style sandwich in plastic wrap and a can of Coke.