Rorie looked back between the two of them, hearing Garret yell and watched for a moment as Max tsked Garret. He couldn't help it, he burst into a fit of giggles. His boyfriend, that was older than him by at least 14 years, just got told to Shh! by a twelve year old! "Oh my God!" He snickered before turning back to Mal. "I think Garret's going to need rescuing if he doesn't keep quiet and chew with his mouth closed.*
"Good boy, Max," Mal called out. "You tell him the rules." Smirking, he watched Rorie cover his mouth to hide his giggles. Too cute. Maybe shopping with him wouldn't be horrible and end in a hospital.
There were, in fact, two children in the living room that moment, as Garret scowled at Max. "Don't tell me what to do," he said shortly. Haughtily, Max replied "I am a good boy, elder said so."
"I gotta record this," Rorie snickered as he pulled out his phone and, quite stealthfully, recorded Max and Garret bickering a bit. His grin was so wide and big, his face looked odd and misshapen a bit, but he didn't care because this was too funny not to have proof later.
"Garret, play nice. I'd hate to have to get a babysitter for you two when we're out shopping." The hound said it just to poke fun. He couldn't help it. Garret's little pout and Max's obvious grin were at odd with each other. How the hell had the two managed to run without strangling one another was beyond him.
Why was it that, when all three of them were together (well four now), it was garret's misfortune to be mocked profusely? Completely unfair. Even Max was getting in on it. Sulking, Garret turned to look at the young pup. "Eu não estou levando você para ser executado com mais de mim," he grumbled.
Max's eyes grew wied, and watery. "Mas eu gostei!" he protested.
"Bem, você deveria ter pensado nisso antes de você ficou tão malcriado," he said with a shrug. "Eu vou ser bom! Lamento, Grit!"
"Tirem-me uma bebida e vamos chamá-lo bom."
Hopping up, Max ran into the kitchen and headed right for the fridge, digging around. "Drink Mal?" he asked, a question and not an offer.
Mal turned to watch Max dig around in the fridge, having kept up with the conversation. "Didn't know you spoke Portuguese," he murmured to no one in particular. Louder, he asked Max, "Did you ask what he wanted?"
Head popping up, it occurred to Max that no, he hadn't asked. That was probably not helpful. "No," he said simply, looking at Mal.
Rolling his eyes, Mal took a glance at Garret. Reaching into the fridge, he pulled out a beer and popped off the cap. "Take this to him, then come back here to talk to Rorie." Sure he was sending the kid from person to person, but Mal wanted to do something. Standing, he winked at Rorie, then moved to stand behind the sofa where Garret was.