Popcorn on the floor due to making out is clearly only something that should happen in theaters and so John snuffs out an amused noise, puts out his smoke and downs the rest of his drink before losing the cup to the coffee table as well.
"You've certainly thought of everything," he murmurs, inordinately pleased he'd decided to come over. It's certainly helped. Q is a distraction all on his own, really. They could take it a notch further though. "C'mere." And then it's all pulling and tugging until he's got a lithe British thing on his lap.