"They're not, most likely." He has to be honest -- it's not like he's ever worked in an office, though he does know the alphabet which seems to be the basis of both skills.

Their beers arrive then, and Marcus raises his bottle to clink it. He does appreciate the offer of help, but is downright shocked at what comes next. It takes him a second to swallow the drink he's taken, as he gapes at the other man.

"...Peter, do you offer every sad drifter your couch? I couldn't possibly."

It's too much.