"Well, that could be a problem. Unless you want to be stared at?"
John face went deadpan. "Really? Since when have I ever been that much of an attention hog? That's Malcolm's thing."
Peter smirked. "True. True. Even when we met at Tenn's party four years ago, you may have had a crowd, but you were against the wall the entire time, unlike Malcolm who tried to do a keg stand in the middle of the room and threw it out the window when he fell. I wonder what happened to him?"
"Not sure. I never did like him, to pig-headed."
Peter moaned. "Bad joke, hun. Bad joke."
John chuckled. "Well, he was, wasn't he?"
"He's a pig. He can't be anything but. Why don't you go grab the laptop and we can get those larger clothes?"
John nodded. "Okay. Be back in a few minutes." Peter watched as John huffed his way to the hallway, the pictures on the wall rattling with each step. It took several minutes before the walls rattled again. John appeared, panting and the fur on his forehead darkening with sweat, the laptop under his arm. Damp spots were forming under his armpits. Peter got up and helped guide him back over to the couch, taking the laptop so sweat wouldn't get on it. The couch groaned as John's plump butt fell on it, covering most of two cushions. "Good thing we got this reinforced." He chuckled.
Peter looked at him seriously but said nothing as John pulled him down next to him.
"Okay, now that shirt you're wearing now is..."
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