John's gaze warms as Martin lets out that astonished little laugh, and he gives Martin's back a slow, idle rub as he listens. The answer doesn't surprise him, but he's still glad that he asked. It feels like another introduction, a demonstration of how they do things: that they check in even when it might not seem glaringly necessary, not so much out of a surplus of caution as for the simple pleasure of knowing that they're both having a good time.

His eyes start to slip shut as Martin lifts his chin up to meet him, but when their lips do brush, it's in the form of a question. John grins outright, just for a moment, before closing the barely perceptible distance between them. The kiss is brief but sweet, like something he'd ambush Martin with in passing, when they both have other things to do but he simply can't resist the temptation. He draws back just enough to murmur, "I am," then leans back in to brush another kiss against the corner of Martin's mouth. "Tea's getting cold," he adds a bit slyly, making absolutely no move to retrieve said tea.