Johnny smiles up at the butterfly as it circles around him and then lands in his hair, casting a grateful look at the TARDIS. His own alleged kindness is negligible, as far as he's concerned - it's these two who've been kind to him, reaching out to help him so often, when they really don't have to.

When Gabriel echoes the sentiment, he feels his blush worsen (god) and he looks down again, just in time for Gabe to prod him gently and offer invitation to join them.

For a moment, he's convinced none of this is really happening. He's still in LA, still choking on insomnia and creeping insanity, making shit up about generous, well-to-do deus ex machina "friends" who emerge from nowhere to fix his entire fucked up life, turning him into a well-oiled machine of successful living, as fake as that fucking song, laughing humorless at the readers who fell for it because he doesn't know anyone like that, no one gives a goddamn shit about him.

But this is happening, sort of, in their heads anyway, real enough to let it change him; and as nervous as he is to let either of them know the depth of his feelings, there is nowhere he would rather be right now. What a terrifyingly vulnerable thing to think.

"Okay," he says softly, and he shifts forward, nestling between them, hoping they don't notice his heart pounding.