There are no shortage of words John can call to mind when asked. From shrewd and discerning to wild and dangerous. Passionate. Committed. Hardheaded and stubborn. Curious. Confident. Uncertain. Ashamed. All things that might go some way to describe the man he's looking at. But none of them quite add up to the living, breathing person. After all, they are just words.

"No," he replies, mentioning none of them, and allows his gaze to drop from James' eyes to his mouth, down to his chest and then back up again. His smile widens, corners of his eyes crinkling in ways they hadn't when he was a younger man.

"The way I see it, this is only the second time you have confirmed you're not going to throw me out. Why would I want to share all the words I just thought of before I do this?" he asks, reaching out to press a warm palm to a bare shoulder. With fingers sliding up into the back of James' hair, he pulls him forward, meeting him halfway with a light kiss. He leaves it up to James to decide if it stays that way.