[Oh, you smarmy bastard, you. Blake huffs and turns on his heel and steps up to the repeat of their tawdry encounter. As if it might be made of smoke, he tries to dispel the image with a wave of his hands.
Nothing happens. They continue to kiss, to press up against each other in what very much appears to be entirely consensual and unaided by the world around them. John even recognizes the shirt as one of those he just added to his own closest, as if the universe is suggesting some amount of manifest destiny.
Blake grumbles.]
Pretty sure I'm gonna punch you if you keep it up. Just want answers, not offers.
no subject
Nothing happens. They continue to kiss, to press up against each other in what very much appears to be entirely consensual and unaided by the world around them. John even recognizes the shirt as one of those he just added to his own closest, as if the universe is suggesting some amount of manifest destiny.
Blake grumbles.]
Pretty sure I'm gonna punch you if you keep it up. Just want answers, not offers.