Weekday morning telly [closed]

[bluesuit_handy]

Freshly showered, his hair still damp, Andrew lounges on one of the beds in the upscale hotel room he's sharing with James, watching telly and listening to the sounds of James taking a shower in his turn. It's late enough in the morning that all the good little boys and girls are at school, which means an unfortunate lack of the sort of cartoons meant for school-aged children. He's already flicked through several channels showing news (to be fair, he did watch one for a little while, to see if anything particularly exciting is going on -- it's not), and has finally given up on finding what he really wants to watch and settled on a bit of Sesame Street instead.

As if to compound his failure to watch television like an adult, he's chosen to do his lounging with his head hanging off the foot of the bed, feet shoved under the pillows. He holds a bowl of dry cereal on his chest, from which he occasionally picks pieces to munch as Big Bird and co. tell him all about the letter R. The bathrobe in which he dressed after washing is rucked up, leaving his legs largely bare -- in a while he'll have to get up and put something on, but for now the room's warm enough and he's lazy enough that he's content to stay where he is a few minutes longer.


[OOC: Smut ahead! You have been warned, dear darlings.]