Jonathan Sims

Martin tolerates John's physical closeness with all the forgiving grace of a block of wood, which doesn't even surprise him, really. He's never teased Martin quite so mercilessly before — never been presented with an exposed nerve that also served as such a rich vein — and while his intentions aren't mean, that probably only counts for so much. Still, there's a telltale hitch in Martin's voice that belies the steadiness of his resolve. He can't stay grumpy forever. John tempers his laughter with some effort, but allows his arms to curl a little more decisively around him.

"Can't believe you were worried," he says, lifting his head and pressing a warm, only faintly giggly kiss to Martin's temple. "As if anyone else in this city would put up with me."