Don't you give him that look Wrinklebrow McFuckboy, okay, he's not in charge of this situation and he's more than a little salty he somehow managed to become the token gay pairing instead of getting- you know- Jessica Rabbit or something. He expresses as much with an equally pissy look he levels on Blake, totally unphased by his ire and his narrowed eyes.

He's not, however, immune to the shoving. He stumbles back a step and then cocks his jaw like you mother f- before he can reign it in. Great, so it's gonna be like this huh?

"Out with your sister, dear, you're putting on weight," He answers back flatly, deadpan, and within a second he's coughing like he sucked something down the wrong pipe. He swivels away, shoulders hunched, hacking up- maybe a literal lung judging by the spattering of blood that leaves his lips and stains his gums.

So, yeah, okay, maybe that's not... exactly meeting the qualification of lover is it?