There's certainly been nothing to suggest otherwise. John is kissing him slowly this time, less of an air of desperation to it. There's no rush, nobody watching -- it's just them after all. His hands move after a moment, fumble for the front of Ianto's fleece and reach to unzip it -- to scrape it aside and try to pull up the layers underneath to get at skin. There's too many layers, though, the right amount from a practical 'it's snowing' perspective but too many when he wants them out of the way.

John pulls back from the kiss so he can concentrate a moment, drops his eyes and gives up on skimming up layers further to work undoing Ianto's belt instead.

"Let me prove it to you," he murmurs, because that's exactly what he plans to try and do.