"I promise to groan properly at your jokes this time around," John told him, leaning in to press his lips lightly against Bobby's temple, because boyfriend, duh, there, duh, holy fuck gorgeous, duh. And the morning was just too cosy not to. "Maybe even laugh. No stony face tough guy bullshit, I swear." The chuckle had eased his mind - he knew it was a cheap gift, and while he could afford something more expensive, in a sense he didn't know Bobby that much at all. For all the talk and laughing of the last few days, it had been mostly banter and making out. Not exactly the time to deviously dig for information regarding Christmas presents. Not that John was especially good at being devious.

Setting the gift on his lap, he unwrapped the paper, and - the world stopped. It was a Zippo box, an actual bona fide, copyrighted, branded, marked, what the fuck ever, official, Zippo lighter box. Glancing up at Bobby, he managed a croaky "I don't know what to say." He already had a lighter though, so he was a little puzzled as well, after the first wave of emotion swept over him, giving Bobby a raised eyebrow and a bit of a shrug. Opening up the box, he just inhaled softly when he saw the decoration on the front of the lighter, knowing his mouth had fallen open. "It's beautiful," he admitted, picking it out of the case with fingers that somehow felt a bit thick and inadequate to the task.

"Thank you." John was John, though, so: "Next year you can get me a flame thrower." Not that he technically needed one - but it would save time if they came up against anything big.