If Jack hadn't been so far under already, Ianto might have got a pouted, "Didn't we do that enough when we were black-banded?" or possibly a muttered, "I'd rather have you inside me."
As it is, though, the hand under his chin sends a delicious shiver running through him and encourages him to lift his eyes again to Ianto's face, where they stay, close and attentive, and the half-formed protests are easily swallowed down because when Ianto's like this, what he wants is whatever Ianto wants. He smiles more slowly, heartrate picking up as he visulises it, and finally slides his hands out of Ianto's pants. He doesn't make any attempt to free his own aching cock yet, though, just letting his hands fall to his sides as he asks, "Right here? Or shall I strip first? And can I have something inside me, if I can't have you?"
Ianto inside him is not, after all, going to be a possibility just yet anyway (Ianto may be young, but even he can't get hard again immediately!) but that doesn't mean he can't use one of the many toys they've accumulated in the big drawer under the bed. If Ianto says he can, that is. He gives him a hopeful look from under his lashes.