[No. No no no no no. Even if Petre wanted to deny all of the things he said, he'd never let something like the kisses they shared go unspoken. There would be some kind of spin, some way to acknowledge what he wanted to keep and discard the rest. Hell, if it was a new game like John suspects it was, Petre's victory was utterly complete. No reason to deny any of it.

He was that drunk. He doesn't even remember.

John will never fucking know.

He throws his blanket down on the bed rather than spreading it again, tosses his pillow into the corner with just as much vehemence. Eventually he'll need to come up with something Petre did to piss him off this much, but it's a laundry list of possibilities, isn't it? That'll come much easier than trying to tell him the truth.]

Look. I got no sleep last night. The kid with the remote eyes was up again. There's a whole lot I don't wanna do today, and dealing with you is at the top of my list. Just go about whatever or whoever you're fucking with today.

[He's seething. Not because he was lied to, not because it was real, but because he'll never have any damn idea. Petre wouldn't know if asked. This accidental victory is Petre's biggest yet.]