He's pliable as John worries gently at his lower lip, tipping into him to let him linger there, chasing when he pulls back — just a little, quickly under control when he sees that John's only leaning away to divest himself of his shirt.

James would like time to look him over, but John doesn't give him that just yet. Instead, he explores with both his hands, one palm gliding down John's bared sternum and one sliding around his waist, to his spine, fingernails dragging with a slight bite along his back.