That laugh's beautiful, pure music in the quiet room, and John's still got enough mind to work cufflinks loose and set them somewhere safe before he wriggles out of his shirt and then heads straight back to Jensen's. Christ, he can't wait to get his mouth on those muscles, taste the sweet salt of skin, feel Jensen moving against him.
"Tell me what you want," he urges, rough and breathless with each piece of cloth that vanishes. "Want me on my knees? Want me sucking you off? Love the way your dick feels in my mouth, Jensen, fucking beautiful, or you want me stretched out for you, want to take me, fuck me until I'm screaming your name and feeling you every time I move for days..."