It felt a little weird to actually be waiting for Jack to get home. He'd been avoiding him lately and was fully aware that Jack knew it, but he hadn't pressed for a reason. The deep down bitter, vicious part of his brain tried to leverage that as evidence of Jack's complete lack of interest in him as a person, but mostly he knew it was probably meant more to respect his privacy, especially after the incident with his journal.
He tensed slightly when he heard the door, and forced himself to relax one muscle set at a time as Jack came into the house. He'd been wandering idly, too restless to sit and wait, but now that they were both here he forced himself to take a seat in one of the arm chairs - curled up defensively, hand still clasped around the neck of the bottle. Honesty. Right. He could probably do that, so long as it didn't involve actually meeting Jack's eyes. "So I guess you weren't exaggerating about us, then."