A laugh at that, an actual laugh, something boyish and untempered by the past. Nathan hadn't laughed like that in months, but of course it'd be Jim that heard the sound again. "I don't know," he mused, head tipping back, eyes falling shut. "I think I might just have to take care of you, to make sure it's done properly."
He grinned, the normal shy restraint missing when it was just him and Jim. "Hm, now, that does sound--" The words cut off into a moan and he breathed out another laugh, this one breathless already. "Poor traumatized pizza delivery man," he murmured, fingers hooking into Jim's belt to tug him closer. "We'll have to tip well."