"Oh, er-" Martin glances toward the indicated ceiling stain in bewilderment. "Right." Business as usual, then? He's not wrong, and Martin hadn't noticed it yet, so it is... helpful. Need to make sure they haven't got mold or anything. It's just been so long since John spoke to him like that. Like an employer.

Actually, if it had been properly 'business as usual,' the instruction would have been curtly barked at him, would have carried the faint implication that this was his fault somehow, and there's none of that now. Just a little smile, like he's enjoying himself.

Martin decides, after a moment of feeling a bit unbalanced, that he likes it.

He's done a bit of scouting the neighborhood, wanting to know what's around them, and this presents them with a few options within easy walking distance.

"There's a sort of sports bar on the corner," he says. "But it's very... well, I guess it's not American, but it feels like it, you know? If you're hungry, there's a restaurant up that way." He nods, already heading in that direction. "Japanese, I think. I could murder some yakisoba right about now."

He tries not to think about how this is going to be the first time ever they've done anything like this. It doesn't matter, not right now. It can't afford to matter. John is all he has now, whatever that means, and he's bloody well going to make the most of it.