Ianto allows himself to be pulled back against the other man's side again, trying to let himself relax against his solid warmth. He stays quiet, letting John struggle through the end of his thought and collecting himself enough to gather one of his own before he replies himself.

"Yeah," he says quietly. He supposes he does recognize that much, at least. That he is trying. This -- this is trying, at least.

"I have no idea what I'm doing here either, I hope you do realize that," he adds softly, after a beat.