John arches an eyebrow, trying and failing to hide a smirk. "Well, you know what they say," he says, leaning close but stopping just shy of making contact, his breath ghosting over Martin's skin. "Turnabout is fair play?" He brushes a kiss against Martin's jaw. "I learned it from watching you?" He moves to press another kiss to Martin's neck, this time applying the briefest hint of suction, so light and quick that it almost could have been an accident, offering only the barest hint of what's to come.

Of course, if he's to torment Martin in earnest, he'll need a bit more room to work. John leans back enough to find Martin's mouth again, parting his lips and lifting one hand to comb his fingers through Martin's hair. He brushes a slow arc from Martin's temple down around his ear, then lets his hand trail down his neck, to the hollow of his throat, until he can hook his index finger around the top button of Martin's shirt. He catches the button between his thumb and forefinger, fiddling with it idly, and it's with a faint ping of internal surprise that he feels it come undone. Christ, he thought he might need two hands for that, but if one will do the job, so much the better. He smiles against Martin's lips and moves his hand down to the second button.