<span style="font-family: 'Georgia'">Theo's heart raced and his stomach clenched painfully as Michael explained about the brand. The artists hand falling away as the other man spoke if his 'owner'. Theo felt like he was going to be sick. He couldn't begin--didn't- want to ask exactly what Michael had meant by not minding the other's touch. And he didn't have the stomach to point out that '<i>nice</i>' was not the word to describe a person who would brand another living human being. <br/>
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Theo managed a strained smile and nodded, "Uh, yea. Help yourself." He swallowed the rest of what he wanted to say '<b><i>this is your home now</i></b>'. Michael had agreed to come home with him, but it didn't mean he would stay. As much as Theo wanted him to stay, he couldn't just force the man to stay where he didn't want to be.<br/>
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"Oh right, I almost forgot," he said as he stood, gathering up the pile of hair that he dispensed into the trash bin, "what did you want it? I can't cook to save my life, so I thought we could order out. Whatever you want."</span>