"Better," John echoes, and pushes into the touch -- fingers fastening into Ianto's clothing to keep him as close as he can. "Much better, Ianto."

He wants to pull him closer, wants to paw at him but John just barely resists -- busies himself sloppily kissing at Ianto's neck and trying to fumble a hand over his top and thermal layer again.

"C'mon," he murmurs, because better isn't the same as perfect and John thinks they can still definitely improve on this. Thinks Ianto is planning to go further and he's already anticipating what that might be.