Ianto thrusts up and John nearly chokes in surprise at the motion, holds down one of his legs to try and limit his movement as he nurses him through. It's gratifying to feel him squirm and arch, to feel his body twitching through the pleasure, and John doesn't mind so much that it means he's being tugged around a little in the process. He pulls back finally as Ianto settles and runs the back of a hand over his mouth -- coughs a moment as he tries to recover and takes another swig from the bottle to settle himself.

Then John gets to his feet, wobbles a little at the change of height now that the alcohol has had time to really settle and moves to slip back onto the bed -- setting the alcohol back on the side table carefully so he has both hands free to reach for Ianto.

"Alright," he begins -- voice still rough sounding. "Did I prove my point?"