John bit back an admonishment, reminding himself (not for the first time of late) that it wasn't so long ago he'd had a traumatic experience of his own whose effects had lingered for many weeks, and that the kind of damage Hell was capable of inflicting wasn't easily shaken off. He'd been trying to stay out of Crowley's space for exactly that reason. It wasn't like it was such a hardship for him, he'd never been the touchy-feely type anyway; but this kind of behavior did not jive with what he'd come to think of as normal for Crowley, and he was beginning to think he'd made a mistake in not pressing the issue sooner. At any rate, Crowley had to have come in here for a reason; if he really wanted to keep his distance that badly, he could have brushed off their invitations to stay.

"Hey," he said softly, wishing vainly for an easy way to separate the two pressing matters at hand without bollocksing up either situation, "it's just me. I really couldn't hurt you if I wanted to, you know that, right?" Carefully, keeping his arms loose and hands open at his sides, as non-threatening a posture as he could contrive, he took one slow, slightly angled step nearer, not approaching too directly (but, as it happened, partly clearing the path to the bathroom door in the process.) "And I don't. Neither does Kit." He inclined his head in her direction. "You gonna keep shying away like that forever?"

It was a good thing the word 'forever' was commonly used as a metaphor for 'a really long time,' and he could therefore get away with saying it in front of Kit. He meant it literally.