John rolled his eyes. He didn't want Gwen, so that wasn't the issue. Really, he didn't even want Jack that badly anymore, he was just there and drinking and didn't know anyone else but the prude he picked up when he'd arrived, Suzie-something. What he did want was his way and this was anything but. With an over-dramatic sigh, Hart waved over the bartender to refill him again.
"I don't want your trollymog, Jack. Could've had in that storage crate if I did, probably consenting with a little coercion and careful application of my charms. What I do want is to make scene, here and now, so that I feel better about being dumped on your doorstep to watch you work through your team..."
This time when he reached out for Jack, John batted away the hand that tried to stop him and dropped a hand down on the man's thigh. His grip was firm and pushed slowly up that leg as he leaned the rest of the way in to cut out as much of the gap between them as possible.
"Think you like me being jealous. Always had to be the center of attention."