This was a bad idea. Anything involved Jack right now was a bad idea. John had barely even had time to process everything that had happened and now he had to explain it? Shit and double shit. He turns the flask of Hypervodka over and over in his hands, leaning against a wall and forcing himself to breathe slowly. All this time. Everything that's happened, and he still gets under my skin. He thinks with a small smile.
He glances up at the knock and then rolls his eyes at Jack's words.
"Don't get your knickers in a twist," he calls out, trudging over to the door and opening it, letting his former partner and lover into the little townhouse he was currently calling home.
He was, in fact, fully dressed and, surprisingly, unarmed.
"Come on in. Make yourself at home. It's not quite as nice as our last place but," he shrugs and tries to offer a flirtatious smile, although sadness and apprehension flicker in his eyes.