"It is," he agrees as he moves toward the kitchen. "But I imagine it's what sells. Or gets ratings, in their case."
Marcus grins at Dan's comment, glancing back over his shoulder at him as he puts on the kettle. The kitchen and living room are open to each other and he can see Dan easily as he settles on the couch, can see his sketchbook open on the coffee table just beyond him, but he doesn't think anything of it. The last thing he had been drawing was Trass and Salem, not exactly something to want to hide from anyone. He doesn't realize when he'd tossed it down earlier, it had fallen open to a sketch of Dan. A sketch of Dan sleeping in Marcus's bed, clearly drawn at some point during the freak snowstorm.
"We can have tea and still not be respectable," he teases, getting mugs out of the cupboard, getting down his collection of tea. He loves the way Dan looks at him. It warms him from the inside out, wakes up bits of his heart he'd thought had gone cold.
no subject
Marcus grins at Dan's comment, glancing back over his shoulder at him as he puts on the kettle. The kitchen and living room are open to each other and he can see Dan easily as he settles on the couch, can see his sketchbook open on the coffee table just beyond him, but he doesn't think anything of it. The last thing he had been drawing was Trass and Salem, not exactly something to want to hide from anyone. He doesn't realize when he'd tossed it down earlier, it had fallen open to a sketch of Dan. A sketch of Dan sleeping in Marcus's bed, clearly drawn at some point during the freak snowstorm.
"We can have tea and still not be respectable," he teases, getting mugs out of the cupboard, getting down his collection of tea. He loves the way Dan looks at him. It warms him from the inside out, wakes up bits of his heart he'd thought had gone cold.