He places his own coat, hat, and sunglasses on the top shelf inside the closet when he sees Yuri starting to remove articles. He wore black head-to-toe. A turtleneck, slacks. It was easy to blend in when one wore black, JJ found. "I've pretty exclusively been a failure," JJ pointed out, half-hearted. A well established fact. Hell, he just gave up on the ice. There's nothing more of a spectacular failure than that.

"But I trained." That was it. He didn't socialize, he didn't really interact with many other people. He even, only rarely, had one-night stands. And those only happened on days when he took off from training. He didn't like to take off from training, because he still felt comfortably at home on the ice. "In Montreal."

He eyed the scars. He didn't care if Yuri noticed him staring. "I see some changes you've made." He noted, he stepped forward, and brushed fingers over the colorful art.

"How long have you been back to training?"

It was a weirdly civil conversation, he realized. Yuri's comments were more of the casual mud-slinging. JJ had shouted a lot of it out for now.