Ianto doesn't really need John to be a porn star, or to pull off all the fancy tricks that honestly Jack might have, in order to send him careening towards the edge. All of that is well and good but all he needs is the attention. Attention from John, this proof that the other man really does desire him -- a man could fake such a thing in a kiss, but there's no way to fake it going down on him like this. Not a man like John who seems to wear everything on his face, at any rate. And then there's the simple fact that no one has touched him for the better part of what must be a year now, and he's twenty-four years old and in the prime of his life and it honestly really isn't going to take much.

John flexes his fingers against his thigh, dragging his nails along the line of his skin there and Ianto nearly jumps out of his skin. It's all he can do to stop himself from thrusting his hips forward to seek out that final pleasure that the other man's mouth and hand are promising. Tightening his hand against John's neck and arching under the building pleasure instead, he lets out a long, low moan that ends in the other man's name. Another warning. This really won't take much. Distantly, he hopes that John's alright with that. Distantly, he's glad he's made it this far.