Two old people, sitting side-by-side, in super-comfy American-made La-Z-Boy recliners. And they share the paper, one of them going for the business section, while the other always takes the funnies. Outside there's snow, falling in the rapidly darkening streets.
"It's time to walk the dog." Seto looks up only briefly from his paper, and glances significantly toward the other chair.
"Can't you take him tonight?" Pegasus, who never misses the opportunity to snuggle with his husband, comes over and puts both arms around his neck. "I wouldn't ask," he says, "but it's cold, and you know my arthritis has been acting up." He strokes greying dark hair off Seto's forehead. "Be a sweetheart, won't you," leaning in and giving him a kiss, "just this once," with another kiss; he smiles, adding "I'll give you something special when you get back."
Carefully, Seto removes first one, then the other arm from around his neck. "How many times, Pegasus, do I have to tell you not to block my view of the Nasdaq listings?" He does not turn around. "It's your turn," he says, "I'm not trading again."
Pegasus gives a put-upon sigh. He gives another, as he puts on his snow boots, and a couple more as he buttons his coat and grabs the leash by the door.
"This is your fault," he grumbles, while he walks the dog to the corner.
"Whaddya mean my fault?" Jou, who had been about to do his business on the neighbor's lawn, looks up at him with an aggrieved expression. "I been tellin' that guy I ain't a mutt for years, haven't I?"