"Yes, well. He bloody well better!" Jack replied, throwing his hands up in the air. "Because if he didn't I would throttle him." And he mimed doing just that, his hands wringing out an invisible neck. Oh, if anyone hurt Andrew, be it this Frank bloke or anyone else, they would have to reckon with Jack.
"I just don't like him. I don't trust him. He called you 'pet'! Who does that?" Although were it anyone else, another couple using that endearment, he might have thought it rather cute. But that was not the point!
His ire was rising in him, and more than that, frustration and anxiety. This was just -- no! It couldn't be. And he found himself moving towards Andrew, and grabbing him, cupping his cheeks in his hands as he descended on him in a kiss, snatching his mouth up with his own. He wasn't even thinking, just doing, letting himself be guided by action alone. He kissed him like he meant it, because he did. Electricity coursed through him, a thrill of sensation like he'd never felt before.
He only broke the kiss when his lungs screamed for air. And then he blinked stupidily and made a squwaking sound - and promptly turned and fled the flat.