Ianto stands very still, trying not to concentrate too hard on the press of the other man's fingers on his face, or down his neck, as he continues his mission to help him be as covered as possible.

"Yes, well," he says, tracking John's movements before glancing away. "I. Was hardly functional this morning, was I?" John had heard Jim's comment about offering him toothpicks to keep his eyes open, that had hardly been an exaggeration, all things considered.