[ John shifts over to tap the wood experimentally, then brace his weight against it. It'd take more than him and lanky-never-eats to take it down. If he had Lestrade in here -hell, even Anderson, maybe, and wouldn't that idea infuriate the other- it could probably happen. ]
Fucksakes.
[ John scrubs his face with a hand. ]
We have to kiss.
[ It may or may not be blocked by his palm and the scratching, reluctant note his tone has taken on. ]
no subject
Fucksakes.
[ John scrubs his face with a hand. ]
We have to kiss.
[ It may or may not be blocked by his palm and the scratching, reluctant note his tone has taken on. ]