Charles followed after John, leaving his shirt and shoes behind. There was a bubble in his chest that made him feel light and airy, the hand that curled around John's was weightless, and he was happy to trail after the other man. His eyes lit up at the sight of the laundry room. Something about metal, cold, dead things that couldn't make him believed in made him feel better. He liked four cool gray walls and a door with a lock and, oh- those pipes. "I need you to do something for me, okay?" He murmured, his tone almost manic. He pressed a searing kiss to John's lips and pulled his hands to his wrists. "These." He said, "On the pipes, and then-" He dropped his hands to the front of John's pants. "As hard as you can, okay? And then we can do- whatever we want."