Martin takes another swig, nearly down to the dregs now, and peers over the side of the bed, searching without being too obvious. He hopes.

He grips the mug tightly for the last few swirls of warmth at the bottom.

"Um. Sorry, but er, where's the bathroom, and do you have a toothbrush I can borrow at all?"

He's trying not to be awkward, but unfortunately awkward is built in.