John was already tall, though twelve feet makes him feel a little unsettled, closing his eyes to try and imagine exactly what Alexei is describing. He had a vivid enough imagination, though his eyebrows furrow as he tries to follow along.

He gives up when he mentions his beanbag chair-like quality, blinking his eyes open again and staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about tentacles. God dammit Fitz, he really hates you sometimes.

"John is gentle, but that doesn't mean he can't be hard." He'd called for him once, when he needed him and he'd done his job of protector well even if he hadn't had to fight for it. Honestly he'd been glad he hadn't had to. "Maybe I'll ask him next time, if I can see. Not all of it, but some."