Opera.
Maes was being tortured. Cruelly. Evilly. Sadistically.
At his right, Roy looked enraptured.
Maes decided sulking was not going to solve anything, and he didn't particularly think he'd look fetching if he did. Grown up men sulking were hardly something to feast on.
But damnit, he was bored.
And in pain.
Unfortunately, the pain he was being woefully subjected to was not the type that numbed over time. It was the type that threatened to split his skull in two, without actually doing so.
"Do you notice how her voice highlights the vibrato? It's delicious." Maes gave Roy a very odd look - which he didn't see, the idiot, because he was busy ogling the singer and pretending not to - and refused to voice his thoughts.
Delicious?
Maes felt the urge to ask what a vibrato was - the mental image he was entertaining couldn't be neither right nor healthy - but then, he grudgingly accepted that Roy looked happy. He looked a bit too happy, if he were completely honest, but the point was that they were together, enjoying - or enduring - something out of their routine. If asked, of course, he would have chosen something more... fun than going to the opera, but Roy and his cavalier sensibilities seemed hell-bent on doing something 'refined'.
Maes some times wanted to remind him he was not one of those giggling girls he could so easily woo with the fine gentleman persona; Maes wasn't wooed by Roy's antics, simply because he'd seen the man naked, drunk and drunk while naked -- he'd also cleaned after the fact.
He was bored - and in pain - and he really wanted to go home, grab a beer and a Roy and go to bed.
The voice coming fro the stage reached a pitch Maes wasn't entirely sure was naturally possible, but Roy started clapping along the audience. The taller man sighed, shook his head and mourned his missing beer clapping.