As far as disappointing dicks go, 'not bad' sounds like a compliment already. John starts tugging James's pants down at least to the knees and lets his hands roam a bit, first on the outer thighs and then up under James's shirt. His hands are a little cool against warm skin, but it's supposedly thematically burning all around them, it's not like he's uncomfortably icy cold.

It's the feel of teeth against the side of his throat that has John shivering and moaning softly, the threat of a bite mixed in with the tingles in his crotch making for a dizzying blur of feel-good sensations that gets that fluttering in his chest going.

"Ever gotten a handjob in an elevator?" he asks quietly. It must surely be on someone's bucket list.