While Brandon was out taking Lucas' car for a ride to visit that mate of his, Lucas had spent his afternoon hunting down pieces of clothing - some of which paradoxically smelt like Brandon - that had escaped the laundry basket. The rest of the afternoon was spent not thinking about whether said mate was that bloke Britten had spotted him with...
He was going through reports on the situation in the Middle East when the front door was pushed open and Brandon entered bottom-first with food and that painting he wanted to put up here. It was rather large. Lucas wasn't too happy about adding a baroque painting to his interior design because it reminded him of the Russian top dog who'd wasted a lot of money collecting art that made his mansion look like it was decorated by a bunch of arty-farty visually challenged monkeys.
Russian nouveau-riche trash.
"That's awfully nice of him. It's pretty huge, though, I'm not sure it'll fit anywhere," he commented as he pulled the painting out of its container and spread it out on the floor - art had never been a passion of his and the floor was pretty clean. It looked like one of those things that museum curators and art lovers would have toe-curling orgasms over. It looked like...