It didn't because frankly, he was glad to have killed Post. That man was shitty and there was not a pang of remorse in his body around that kill. Nonetheless, Kitty was right. His actions then left a legacy of his own. He was remembered for his actions then instead of what he did. That was something, despite his own personal feelings about his own life. He wasn't ready to let that go.
But, more importantly, this kiss. It was something else. The ordered kiss was what it was, and there was something about it that was primal. If this was on the X-Men brochure, he would have swapped sides sooner.
The way she felt against him, the pair in their buff, made it feel a whole lot different. A normal kiss would have been a little more idle, he thought, if they were clothed- but being nude like this. It hit different. The warmth of her skin was far more prominent than he would of thought.
A shift of his body, and he spun them to a wall and pinned her against firmness. His mouth working extra hard at this point against hers to send that kiss into overdrive. In the moment, John was perfectly content on the lack of oxygen.