Ianto let out a sound against Sulu's lips that was half a hum and half a groan, but both parts equally pleased with the movement there. Unable to help himself, he arched his back, pressing himself further against the other man. His hands tightened in Sulu's belt loops for a moment, until he urged his own grip looser, letting go and moving his hands to find the hem of Sulu's t-shirt, sliding up and underneath the fabric there until he had his palms splayed flat on the other man's warm skin. And yes, his hands were slightly cold, they had always been slightly cold, but the warmth of Sulu's skin and the heat of the alcohol in his system was slowly warming them up as well.

He turned his head slightly, pressing a kiss against the corner of Sulu's mouth, almost on his cheek, his eyes falling shut as he did so.