"I don't think you're the one here who likes attention," John said dryly, comfortable enough to admit that sure, he wanted to be somebody, even if he was still working out exactly who that somebody was. He didn't comment further here on their mothers actually talking to each other, because he didn't want to think about it. Jacqueline Allerdyce would probably find the Drakes utterly adorable, with the sort of affection his mother reserved for a particularly intelligent pet.

Gathering up the dishes to forestall any further protest, John shot him a look across the dinner table, one that said I love you, so sit your ass on the couch. "Bobby," he pointed out, reasonable and not unkind, "you've had to deal with your family and all that entails. You've had to lie and smile and be nice and know each and every moment of it that you're changing your life for me and this and God knows what happens next. You should put your feet up."

He moved into the kitchen without a further word, glancing across the counter to eyeball Bobby a little more as he placed the dishes in the sink.