He arches his eyebrow a little and stands, shucking them off, along with his socks. "I suppose I'll have to get rid of them, then. Is that better?"
It better be good enough for now, because Q can't stand not touching John, and climbs back into his lap, pressing his hips close and ducking his head to latch onto John's neck and make a mark of his own.
At this rate, neither of them will ever be lacking in hickies.