Patrick gave Marcus the bottle and then looked at him with a frown. It wasn't even the alcohol, but real confusion. "I never thought about not coming." That was the whole problem, because this was where he want, this was as much a home as his flat. "I still hate them, not you, though."
He leaned closer, reaching for the bottle but changed his mind and kissed Marcus instead, before resting his head on Marcus' shoulder. "Are you having fun? You like these things."
He chuckled. "I can't believe Mal is here. Is he glaring at everyone? Or maybe just yelling at them." He looked up at Marcus. "He is good looking, but it took forever to convince him that his age wasn't a huge deal. Of course, Mum would have a fit." He snorted. "Maybe I should tell her and she's stop wanting you dead, move onto Mal. Or we can tell her that we never fuck on the dance floor. She'd have to come up here."