After a time, and a few weals that vary in size and redness on Q's neck, John can't help but lean back a little to inspect his handiwork. The marks, although not severe, are rather becoming on the younger man. Maybe his dark hair sets them off?
"Prefer 'brilliant', then?" He offers another wolfish sort of smile and moves to undo the buttons of that waistcoat -- rather thoughtfully removing the glasses from the boy's pocket before doing so. He did like the things, it'd be a shame to ruin them in cliched throes of passion.