It stings, the way he says it, and Ianto supposes he's grateful that John isn't looking at him, so that he doesn't see the blow it lands on his face. Lowering his eyes to his hands as they work on John's second boot, quiet as he finishes loosening the laces and pulls it off. Setting it aside with the other before pushing himself to stand and cross the room to the second bed.

I guess we deserve each other.

Do they deserve this, he wonders. Deserve to keep hurting each other. He had been happy, before. Or as close as he has been in a long time. The thought of it now makes him want to cry.

Sinking down on the edge of his bed, he moves to remove his own boots instead.

"Yes, well. Thanks for that vote of confidence," he replies, tossing his boots haphazardly to the side. It's easier to pretend like it doesn't matter than to admit that it does. "Are you going to lie down in that bed properly or should I be looking to hire someone to carry you out of here tomorrow instead?"