Gabriel makes a noncommittal noise somewhere between a groan and sigh. He likes having company, but they're both so tiring. Why can't they just talk about something normal, like sex, or the latest season of Downton Abbey?

He shoves the mug in Johnny's direction until he takes it from him, then scoots down again until he's completely horizontal. This feels better.

"I had a dog named Buddy," he mumbles out, as he reaches out for the hand settled on his stomach and links his fingers with Johnny's. He moves both hands up to rest on his chest instead because his stomach feels like a precarious place for any sort of weight to be resting right now, but he does like having the point of contact. His eyes slip closed. "He was kinda like Scout. Different colors. Shorter hair."