John picks up his own bowl, but not before pouring them both drinks. Heavy on booze because moderation is for someone who isn't himself. Then he curls forward too, just liking the warm of the bowl against his fingers more than the prospect of eating. It's good enough.
"Yeah," he says, a little slowly, like he's trying to process that. Q's right though. Boyfriend status or not, they are sort of best mates here too. And that's relieving in way. "Ta, love. Really. It's --" he shakes his head, offers a smile that's a bit forced. "Wasn't expecting such awfulness. Do you have them? The dreams?" Easier to focus on Q. He wants to do that.