After the party, John Paul felt like going for a walk. It would do him some good to walk around the old part of the village, by the Loft and The Dog.
He really needed some fresh air. He needed to get away from Spike's look. As if Spike knew... knew everything going on with John Paul. He didn't say as much, but Spike could read him like a book now.
John Paul wanted Kieron, who was still pumping through John Paul's veins. It was hard not to think about him and what had happened. He so didn't want Kieron to hate him, but John Paul hated secrets too, and they seemed to be multiplying, lately.
He hadn't been exactly up front with Quintin. And how long could he count on his phone calls with Chloe? Craig would put a stop to them sooner or later.
Suddenly everything was bringing him down, and it didn't help when he looked inside the window at the Dog. There was Kieron and Kris, drinking a lager and laughing.
John Paul's teeth clinched. His fist tightened. He wanted to give them both a piece of his mind, but he walked away into the night. He had to get away from here.
Just as he got back toward where his new home was he saw a familiar figure under the lamp light in the park. It was Spike. There was a gritty scowl on his face as he stared at John Paul.
"What do you want?" squinted John Paul.
"Something a long time coming, no less." Spike gave him a punch in the gut then, but John Paul gave back a swift nick in the jaw with the right and packed in a left for his eye.
"Go to hell, and don't come back!" John Paul grunted. "Don't mess with me!"
Spike spit blood from his mouth, and took a moment to unwind his jaw. "I ain't finished with you, yet." He gave him a shove in the chest.
John Paul scrunched his mouth tight and gave Spike a fist full in the gut with the left then the right til Spike went down.
"Just shut it! You fuck'n arse." John Paul squinted turning away.
"Wait," Spike made an effort to breath right. "Don't go."
"I just had to get it out of my system, that's all." He wanted help up.
"Are you serious?" John Paul gave him a hand up.
"Buy me a drink." Spike choked getting to his feet.
"What the fuck for?"
"Cause we're mates. And you know you need me." Spike assured him.
"Do I, now?" John Paul sighed.
"Something is eating away at you, and its not Craig." They walked together then toward the The Black Cat pub.
"Its nothing." John Paul wiped a tear from his eye.
"You say that now, but its stuck to you like an annoying wart on the back of your arse." Spike told him after John Paul got them some lager to drink.
"Something like that, I suppose." John Paul found it hard to look at his old lover in the eye, especially since he'd blacken it. "You know that eye will look worse tomorrow. What will Nathan think?"
"That I like it rough." Spike smiled.
John Paul supposed if he was going to get shit faced with anyone tonight, it might as well be Spike.