"Mm."

It's an on the fence reply as Bob, trying not to be laughably gullible, still doesn't know if John's taking the piss or not. Not that it matters either way, he's not so proud that he can't see the humour in somebody trying to get one over on him for a laugh. Shaking his head as he huffs out an amused breath, he's got his glass halfway back to his mouth as John continues.

He hasn't got a clue what anachronisms are and he's about to ask what it means, but then John's leaning in and asking if he'd like to leave and the answer is a simple, slightly rough: "fuck yes I do."

Knocking back the rest of his drink in one, he's already on his feet from the stool before his glass is back down on the bar top. His movements are purposeful, choosing to not just brush heavily past the other man's side but to slide a hand from John's knee to hip on the way past too. It's completely unnecessary but he doesn't care, it's nowhere near as up close and personal as he'd like to be. If he cared about playing hard to get he's lost that game already.