[Well, now he knows. When his tongue slips into Petre's mouth; when Petre grabs onto him like that, like he's some kind of anchor that will keep him from just drifting aimlessly forever; when his whole body floods with a kind of heat he can only feel from inside and he wants to slide his hand down Petre's neck, slide his mouth down Petre's neck and just follow this as far as it'll take him; now, without question, he knows.
And he's fucking terrified.
That attempt at another kiss is blocked finally, fully, as John shoves him away again and actually gets off the bed himself. He's shaking, face all drawn in hard lines.]
Get out. Get - no, fuck it, y'know what? I'll get out. [And he's grabbing his pillow, tugging on the top blanket to try and pull it loose and throw it over his shoulder. He's getting the fuck out of this room and whatever weird, insane energy Petre's created here.]
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And he's fucking terrified.
That attempt at another kiss is blocked finally, fully, as John shoves him away again and actually gets off the bed himself. He's shaking, face all drawn in hard lines.]
Get out. Get - no, fuck it, y'know what? I'll get out. [And he's grabbing his pillow, tugging on the top blanket to try and pull it loose and throw it over his shoulder. He's getting the fuck out of this room and whatever weird, insane energy Petre's created here.]