Jack and Blake: Fanservice
Blake snickered. Just like Jack to trivialize something that affected Blake's every day life. Like he was so perfect. With his sleek muscles and trim waist and his... Blake shook his head. Jack hadn't just touched his thigh, had he? He didn't just--
"Thanks." Blake responded flatly to the praise. Of course he had done well with Wendy. He didn't need Jack's confirmation. Blake wanted to resent Jack for condescending to him, but it was hard when the other man was mostly naked and Blake could see the way his stomach moved when he breathed. Why did a banshee have to fucking breathe, anyway? Blake tried to stay annoyed.
"Yeha, you go do that." He huffed, crossing his arms and bending his knee to take the weight off his injured leg. It was a posture some would consider someone made when they had a bad attitude. But Blake did it to ease the pain in the damaged muscle. "Best of luck in that bath water."