Liam's gaze follows Mike's, much slower and much more obviously. A slow drag to the door, then just as slowly back to Mike, an eyebrow lifted. He didn't really need to say anything. That look would say enough. He'd given it to the junkie far too often before. The look that said Mike was treading on very thin ice.

Then again, Liam was always looking for excuses. He did so like breaking this particular plaything.

Maybe Mike twitched, maybe he moved, maybe he didn't. But Liam would say he did. Obvious disobedience would not be tolerated. Still gripping Mike's face, he slid onto the couch, straddling the other's lap. His free hand planted on the couch above Mike's shoulder, trapping him completely. Looming over him, tilting his head to look up at Liam directly.

"You will express yourself properly," Liam hissed.