[ He makes quick work of his trousers, pushing it off his hips and pressing up against him. Johnny's only half-hard, but it's clear that he's getting off to this, pleasantly delighted at how he seems to hate himself; that kind of thing, you just can't buy.

He's not offended, not really -- his ego's not as fragile as his counterpart's, and he definitely wants to play. ] No, you just don't want him to see how wretched you are. [ He kisses him again, again and again, slow and searing, fingers coming to unbutton his shirt. ] I think you won't be able to handle him seeing you for who you are, and rejecting you. [ He pushes his shirt off his shoulders, trailing kisses down to Jack's bare shoulder. ] He will, you know.