"Exclusively, no. I was hoping to keep one or two for myself," Jono replied, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms over his chest.

Did you have a problem with that, Hannibal?

"Yes, that was the plan."

Jonothon had been living on the island off and on for over a decade. Longer in America still. This was hardly his first rodeo with overseas record purchases.

... And that was why, before Hannibal could say anything else that would make him feel more like he was here with a babysitter rather than a husband, he slung an arm around Hannibal's shoulder.

And then bent him forward and rubbed his knuckles into his scalp.

"Lighten up. I know what I'm doing."

//Kinky bastard.//

Was Jon smirking as he freed Hannibal's head, leaving him to his newly tousled coiffure? He absolutely was.

//Here in public? We've got a room, you know.//

You'd married a monster, Lecter.

Jono's reply to that was... mostly to give a soft scoff of a laugh, swatting at Hannibal's hand in turn.

"Honestly," he muttered. "Not while we're chaperoning. Have you got any manners at all?"

Taking the piss was at least Jon's third or fourth favourite hobby.

Jon rolled his eyes at that.

"Give me ten minutes to finish up here, and then I'll come join you," he replied. And, a moment later, in a mutter, "Bloody horses..."

"Never had much luck with the one I kept getting saddled with during Karla's war," Jono replied, rolling his eyes. "Would rather keep my own feet on th'ground unless there are wheels under me instead."

A pause.

"Or I'm wearing my collar."

...

"Shite. Hannibal. When we get back I'm borrowing that back for an afternoon."

"Figure of speech," Jono sighed. "But yes, assuming I haven't had a blowout between now and then... collar's coming out when we're back. Really, it's a must at this point."