The protesting is about on-par for Sasuke, Warsman's come to learn over the past months: he's neither deterred nor surprised by his general surliness anymore and right now he's the very picture of it, hands in pockets and muttering as he shuffles past.

Warsman closes the door. Even with all of that in mind it's still a strange moment for him, and he catches himself trying (and failing) to search Sasuke's face for disapproval now that he's actually inside and looking around. He doesn't have to be houseproud to be worried that the place isn't up to scratch; as ridiculous as he knows it is, he's half-waiting for Sasuke to change his mind and walk straight back out again. Not that he'd stop him, of course.

"Even so. That coat isn't nearly thick enough for the snow." He doesn't sound too concerned now that he's managed to wrangle the ninja inside, though, his tone set to more of a gentle nudge than a nag. "Can I get you anything? I've got tea- no coffee, but..."

He doesn't even drink tea all that much, or even like it especially- but having it around makes him feel more as though Robin might magically walk through his doors at any second, and that eases a little of his homesickness. It's strange how the smell of a strong cup of Earl Grey with a slice of lemon and half a sugar can do so much.