Marcus shuddered inwardly. "Doesn't appeal," he muttered. "And one word about how that makes me a fucking girl, or any more of a bloody pansy--" His voice trailed off. He wouldn't start a fight, not in this particular room. This was the one place where he wouldn't.
"Speaking of imagery I didn't need. Don't need to think about you shagging Astoria." Marcus topped off his drink, then downed it in one long gulp. The thought of Isaac and Astoria bothered him, gnawing in his gut; he poured another glass figuring he could drink the image away.