'John'. Just 'John.'

John heard reluctance there and interpreted it as a form of personal judgement, rather than Bobby's own discomfort. "Well. Maybe," he shrugged, shutting down a little. He got up off the bed, took the box, and slid it back under the mattress. Conversation mostly closed. "I mean, I'm not forcing you to do anything, but I...there's got to be something you're into. No-one is entirely vanilla," he grumbled, a little more cranky at himself than Bobby. "At least not in my experience." Because John was a Sex God, right?