John dresses fully, doing up the collar of his button-down self-consciously. There's really no hiding the Bond mark just now, though, not with the way Gladio's been biting at it on-request the last while. The doctor also takes half a moment to comb his hair into something resembling Not Recently Sexed Up before heading out of the room. There's a part of him that enjoys Gladio being more relaxed about everything and wearing his marks with pride. John mentally assures himself that he'll get there. Maybe once he's proved himself to Noctis and the others in battle. That feels like a fair point to feel comfortable around them.

Still, the Guide is determined to appear to be at ease. He puts on an easy smile and matches Gladio's pace into the dining area, rather than trailing him, looking bashful. "Smells good. D'you need any help with serving or washing up, Ignis?" Just going to continue placing Noct as if he's not the most important person in the room. John exudes a calm he only half-feels; although, that should only be apparent to Gladio through the Bond.

Ignis raises a brow at the offer for assistance. "I'll let the dishes soak while we eat, but you're welcome to assist after. Please, do sit down." Noct's hand gets another light slap and a flick of Ignis' gaze in his direction. "Everyone. We'll be enjoying a fusion dish this evening, grilled lemon-pepper fish and chips."

John huffs in amusement as he takes a seat at the table and smiles at Prompto struggling with the silverware. "Sounds brilliant, mate, but you'll want to keep that recipe to yourself down at the pubs. You'd probably get popped by some Cockney purist for 'ruining' perfectly decent fish and chips that way."