"Ianto," John repeats, and this is nice -- this gentle caress is nice but it isn't enough. He needs that pace again, the build up of pressure. He needs to feel Ianto's lips and hands working him.

"Don't make me beg," he adds, because he would if he had to but he doesn't want to. Not right now. He just wants the attention, wants the relief that comes after reaching it. John turns his head more into the hand holding onto his hair, arches up again and quietly hopes Ianto has some sense of mercy.