No -- [ John replies, hearing Khan announcing (in his always rather archaic way, charming, really) that he was born more than ten years before John himself and it's a joke, of course, or at least some way or other to get around answering truthfully. No one's going to believe the man's a day over 40 and even 40 might be pushing it. That he should be in his mid-50s is just far out and John chuckles slightly, adjusting the angle of his head against his upper arm. Better position to halfway fall asleep in, a few minutes from now, he might shift even closer to the other man, sleep on him or something, he's strong enough to take it, obviously. ] -- you came into this world a liar.

[ The cum on his stomach is slowly drying and it itches, but he can't be bothered to actually lift his hand and do something about it, wipe it off, scratch it, whatever, it's just too much effort. He's so very, very, God awfully spent. Shuffling a bit closer to Khan without actually initiating touch, he breathes in the thick stench of sex hanging in the air, the smell of them both, together, together and his expression turns serious once more. He licks his lips, blinks a couple of times to keep himself awake. He's spent and he's tired. Please, God, let him sleep.

In a moment, for now his voice is casual, though the question isn't: ]

Going to be around to empty their executive lounge for food in the morning?