There's no in-between. Sarah enters with the banana pudding, and Steve slavers over it, calling it a "little slice of heaven," and she giggles and tells him not to brag in front of company, and he tells her to stop being "such an angel" and he will, and they laugh, and Jason grins because they're so totally queer, and he loves it. He's like a little boy with them. He's like Tara. Sarah goes for whipped cream, and he watches her ass as he leaves. He's like that, too. He shakes his head at himself. "Whoo," Steve goes, "My wife must think you're pretty special. Sarah doesn't whip out her pudding for just anybody!" Jason doesn't know what to do with that one, and it's awesome. Steven sips his wine and shifts into preacher mode, asking Jason if he can feel all the great things God has in store for him. And suddenly, Jason can.
I don't know enough about music to say why, but the song that plays as Jessica opens the door to the Compton house and lets Hoyt in, it seems like a minor or junior variation on the cello song that always plays for Bill and Sookie. It's lighter, more romantic, brighter, cleaner; it sounds like Friday Night Lights. "I always wanted to see the inside of Vampire Bill's house!" he says, and stares back at her. "You get to live here?" She nods, regretfully, and points out that it's full of his "creepy old stuff," not to mention -- in that mirthfully woeful tone she sometimes uses -- "And he makes me sleep in a hole..."
Hoyt nods. "My mama keeps her doll collection in my closet." They laugh, and he spots Bill's videogames. "Oh, you got a Wii?" She's horrified, as he runs to the couch, wondering what gross boy thing he's pulling now. "You never played a Wii?" He pats the couch next to himself, alive with glee. "Oh, you'll love it!"
"Yeah, so you can race cars, um, or you can play tennis, or you can..." She sits down, looking at him, and he smiles to himself. "You can dance? Uh, or you can shoot people?" She's breathless. "I've never done any of that." He offers to show her, and puts the controllers in her hands. So she kisses him, and he kisses back, and their music plays, and everything is perfect. He moves to her neck, and she closes her eyes. And pops fang, right there. She gasps and pulls away, covering her mouth.
There is a moment where he's weirded out. Just a tiny little moment. And then he remembers where he is, and who he is, and who she is, and he just looks right past it. "No, no, don't do that!" he says in a hush, pulling her hand away from her mouth. "You don't have to hide that from me. That's natural." And as much as I love Hoyt, and Jessica, and their love, and this delirious approach to teen dating with the surprise girl boners on the couch and the boy daring himself to be penetrated and her getting his shirt off him and all this stuff, I'm mostly happy that somebody told her that. It took 17 years, but somebody finally said it: