Jonathan Sims

Martin takes him up on the offer so quickly that it startles a low chuckle out of him — a sound that quickly transmutes to a hum as Martin draws him in for another kiss. John sighs quietly and slumps a little more heavily against him, luxuriating in the feeling of Martin's hand in his hair. It's a little like a missing piece finally slotting into place... or, perhaps more accurately, like they're strolling down an avenue they were a little remiss in not exploring before today. But after his own earlier boldness in taking his pleasure, it had felt a little unfair to keep Martin's hands proverbially tied. He doesn't want to deny Martin anything, least of all the opportunity to get a little of his own back.

"I love you," John murmurs, his nose brushing against Martin's in a fond little nuzzle, before dipping his head to favor him with another slow kiss. Then, one corner of his mouth curling up in smug little smirk, he asks, "Shall I... get back to it, then?" His left hand isn't well-placed for any incidental mischief, but his right hasn't really moved from its original position, and it only takes a little searching with his thumb before he finds Martin's nipple and gives it a pointed little nudge.