There was going to be singing. Mark tried not to sigh too entirely loudly, and instead gave Glibt a long-suffering look that they both knew was entirely not serious. "Just give me a warning before the singing starts. I'll want to pull out the whiskey." Sometimes, taking a page out of Johnny's book wasn't the worst idea in the world. Besides, Mark had little guilt at the idea of getting both he and Glibt just drunk enough to the point of extreme rewards in the bedroom.
"Does Thomas act like a youngest child?" There was a small smirk on his face as he asked the question. Thomas certainly acted younger than he looked at times, but being the oldest Mark wasn't exactly what being the youngest entailed. As far as Mark was concerned, Thomas acted nothing like James.
Mark grabbed a cheeseburger, a plate, and, because Thomas had made it, some salad. He picked up the ketchup and started slathering his burger with it, knowing full well that a spot or two might end up on his pants. After waiting for Glibt to fix his own plate, Mark none too subtly pulled his fiance down to sit with him on the stretched out deck chair. "You're working on a project with him?" he asked, managing to keep his voice casual when talking about Harvey. And as if it meant nothing to him, he turned back to Bret and Thomas after asking.