Just as the words about him not wanting to drag their drama into the office came out, he realized that they were basically airing out their dirty laundry in the street just a block away from the police station on the sidewalk.
"...you said you'd walk me home. Come on." With that, he ashed out his cigarette and grabbed Angelo by the wrist, staring to drag him back to his house. He didn't want his business out in the open, especially if it involved... what, matters of the heart? This shit bothered him, and it always had. He had trouble keeping anyone around because he was so damn judgmental, so seeing Angelo all starry-eyed and nervous made him flash back to all those failures.
His house came up soon enough, and he basically tossed Angelo inside before closing the door behind them. "No use in airing our issues on the sidewalk." On to business. His house had been... basically untouched looking since Angelo left, right down to the flowers he'd given him. Instead of in the vase, they were laid flat on the table, drying out.
"So what do you expect from me, exactly? I'm not the gushy type." Only he was. Kind of. "I'm not looking to... drop it. Whatever it is. But if you expect me to be delivering roses then you clearly haven't learned much about me."
He was more than eager to follow along. Tybalt was obviously a private person, and while he'd certainly realized that having the discussion on the street wasn't a good idea, he hadn't wanted to invite himself over either. That would just be... well, rude. So instead, he went along when Tybalt pulled him, resisting the urge to let out a highly inappropriate chuckle at just how transparent Tybalt was being in that moment.