Who needs those words anyway? They just get in the way and make everything else awkward as can be. Really, even if they were thinking it, saying it would be -- a long time coming.
No matter the fact that it was something that could be said without words at all. Tiny touches and kisses and bites to the softest, most vulnerable part of the throat.
Shrugging out of his shirt until it's a bunched pile behind his back, John murmurs out his approval at the touch, at Q's own pleased sigh. It's adorable, honestly. He'd like to keep it.
"C'mon," he says, but isn't sure what for exactly. Probably because there's nothing else to be said.