[ He laughs, mostly despite himself, fingers relaxing visibly against the tabletop. He leaves his beer half-finished for now, raising an eyebrow at Khan across the table, cocking his head somewhat, amused. ]
Yes, good, make me feel like a fucking dog.
[ Normally he wouldn't throw around a word like fucking in polite conversation, but he's still a bit agitated, probably noticeably, too, because anger management always was an issue with him, so it slips out with the rest, sounding coarse and exactly as loud as the very stupid, very loud-mouthing teenagers a few tables down. Khan will have to excuse him, since he's being so very generous with the rest, the acknowledgement and the praise. Honestly, John deserves it as well, because he's pretty sure he's only half a step away from telling Dr. Johnson to kindly sod off and that, oh God, will be the greatest relief he can possibly imagine, safe for Sherlock showing up at his (their) door alive and don't dally on your way there, either, will you...
A moment's quiet while that particular scenario plays out in his mind. They're just looking at each other, Khan and him, Khan expectantly, because if they're playing the game, it's John's turn now, to ask. John smiles slightly, eyes narrowing in expectation. Listen, he's probably waited too long asking this anyway, but only because he's at least certain you're legal, Mr. Free Agent. ]
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Yes, good, make me feel like a fucking dog.
[ Normally he wouldn't throw around a word like fucking in polite conversation, but he's still a bit agitated, probably noticeably, too, because anger management always was an issue with him, so it slips out with the rest, sounding coarse and exactly as loud as the very stupid, very loud-mouthing teenagers a few tables down. Khan will have to excuse him, since he's being so very generous with the rest, the acknowledgement and the praise. Honestly, John deserves it as well, because he's pretty sure he's only half a step away from telling Dr. Johnson to kindly sod off and that, oh God, will be the greatest relief he can possibly imagine, safe for Sherlock showing up at his (their) door alive and don't dally on your way there, either, will you...
A moment's quiet while that particular scenario plays out in his mind. They're just looking at each other, Khan and him, Khan expectantly, because if they're playing the game, it's John's turn now, to ask. John smiles slightly, eyes narrowing in expectation. Listen, he's probably waited too long asking this anyway, but only because he's at least certain you're legal, Mr. Free Agent. ]
How old are you?