Sushi at Home

This is post 37 of Section III. To begin at the beginning, go here. Section II begins here. Section III begins here.

Back at the apartment, Robert handed Jack a brandy. “You look very Dickensian,” he said. Propped up on pillows, his jaw bound up in a large handkerchief, Jack only rolled his eyes in reply and applied an ice pack.
Robert put on his silk dressing gown, climbed into bed with a smaller brandy, and snuggled. “If your brother doesn’t come back, who’ll be your best man? Second best after me, of course?”
“Hmm. ’Rank really knows how to perform gayness.”
“Oh stop.”
“I hear he was ’rying to show you some new moves.”
Robert sipped his drink. “Put it this way,” he said. “Why go out for sushi when I can wrap my own at home?”
Jack thought. “Variety?” he queried.
Robert set his empty glass on the bedside table. “Honey, underneath all that wasabe, Frank is nothing but a California roll. Everybody knows that.” He rolled lazily over and began to unbutton Jack’s pajamas.

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