Okay.

John wets his lips nervously, because now he feels trapped under that gaze.

"What I said before," he begins, "I meant it. I still do. It's only been a few hours, Ianto, I haven't..."

He hasn't changed his mind. John sighs, shifting his weight and hesitantly touching at a patch of his arm that isn't sore and rubbing slowly at the skin.

"I want to be here," he finishes, as if repeating it might making it stick.