They were holding hands. That was... highly unusual. John couldn't help but stare at their fingers laced together like that for a moment before he slowly glanced up at Charles, almost missing what he said, but nodding nonetheless. "Generally speaking," he answered, "I like to think I know what I want. I tend to know what I don't want a little more often, but even then it's usually a case of 'I can't tell you what it is, but I'll know it when I see it'." He babbled when he was nervous. Fortunately, he always babbled, so it was hard to tell the difference.
The difference in age between them was not something that occurred to John. He knew that Charles was older - a lot older - but it didn't matter. Or hadn't mattered before now and it still hadn't occurred to him that it should matter. He watched the other man nuzzle against his palm with a curious look. Again he nodded. "Of course," he said, voice catching a little against his will. He cleared his throat and continued, "You know that I would never deny a request from you... to visit, that is," he said, trying to save himself from inferring something he wasn't quite ready to infer. "I know how much you don't like being alone."