Maybe it's a joke. Maybe it isn't. The fact that John has said it has Ianto thinking about it, though, when he'd been doing his damnedest not to. It was just sunscreen, a necessity for someone as fair-skinned as Ianto in a place as sunny and warm as this. Until John Sheppard had to open his mouth and say that.

Ianto is aware of every press of the other man's fingers against his skin and the fact that he really doesn't mind it so much at all, when it comes down to that. He clears his throat awkwardly and puts more on his hands as well, making sure that his chest will be covered in case the collar of his shirt shifts before he caps the bottle and tosses it back towards his bag. Trying not to think about the fact that he's going to need to put more on a few hours later.

"Right, well," he says, obviously feeling a bit awkward -- there's no way of hiding it, why bother. Please give him his clothes back, John. "That's... Done for now, I suppose. Though I'm coming to think that it wouldn't be a terrible idea to invest in a parasol, if we should happen by one." No need to worry about his dignity, look what he's done to it already.