[He could leave, he supposes. Keep up the front. But he's tired, and drunk, and nothing sounds more glorious than sleep right now. It takes a few moments of fumbling to get his shoes off, then his shirt and tie come next. His trousers are still undone so he just kicks them off until he's left in socks and underwear and crawls up the bed to collapse on his stomach. There's a slight moment of panic when he remembers the mark on his arm, before he remembers Jack is already privy to that little secret. By habit, he still angles his right arm a little away from him.]
no subject