He lets his trousers be yanked down, pushing up Ianto's tops and squirms to kiss at patches of his chest as he uncovers skin.

"Much better," he murmurs, and massages at Ianto's back -- digs his fingers into his muscles and slides them down to his hips. "Much better, although I enjoyed the dishevelled look too."

Ianto looks nice no matter what he wears, though. Which isn't to say that removing his last layers wouldn't be an improvement, if he can persuade him. John pulls back enough to try and coax him, smile twitching at his lips as he tugs at his top meaningfully.

"Off," he whispers, just in case Ianto needs an extra hint.