It's been fucking forever. Nearly a lifetime of pining, for someone as impatient as John seems to be half the time. But he ignores that fact, because (again) it isn't very cool. Instead, he offers Q his most crooked of grins and slips into the flat, closing the door with a brilliant sense of balance and one foot.
It's safe to say Q would probably let him stay even if he hadn't brought beer.
"Ta. S'been a bit," he agrees, licking his lips and looking around just to note it's all about the same as it was last he was here. That's good. No… you know. Sign of life that isn't from Q. Not that he was worried, or anything.
"Free tonight then?" He should have asked before, but couldn't bring himself to text, he never quite knows when to shut up when he texts.