The red door at the front of John's house is wide open and there's smoke billowing out in a steady stream. "Bloody Hell!" can be heard clear across the house and if Tony comes inside, he'll find John wearing his red scrubs in the kitchen at the back of the living area by the stove trying to boil down beeswax he harvested from the woods. There are also red lumps on his arms, neck and chest that look suspiciously like bee stings. He didn't hear the other man come in, so he starts a little at seeing Tony standing there, but he probably knocked or called out to him and he was just too in his head to hear him honestly.

"Well, hello, handsome. Are those for me?" He holds out both his hands, stars in his eyes. Or maybe just tears from the smoke inhalation, a delicate cough rising up his throat that he smothers against his shoulder. Thankfully, the air seems to be thinning out now. It's harder than he thought it would be to light a stove without fire or fire magic. The hell, man.