Which is fine, because they are both possibly secretly fifteen year olds. John tilts his head to the side a little, allowing for more space to be marked because it's not like he has a job to go to anyway. He's awarded only a pleased little groan in response, but yet -- it is better.
It's fucking ridiculous how perfect Q's skin is, and John can't seem to stop touching all of it, anywhere he can. How he hasn't just pushed the younger man onto the couch and given up on foreplay yet is a mystery.