[That is too much of a tease to go unanswered. John puts the things down on the island and crosses right into Harry's space, hands on his hips while inching up the hem of his shirt. Standing on his toes, he says against Harry's mouth,] I believe I could make a few guesses. [He's very still for a moment, watching Harry exhale before moving fast, catching his wrists, and folding them behind his back. It's simple to lean in, put Harry's back against the island, and grin down at him.

It's a guess, but an educated one. John runs a brothel that caters to certain proclivities, and it's insightful at times. Something tells John that a young wizard who loudly, repeatedly refuses to yield for even a moment might eventually want a night to let go.

John loosens his grip, keeping Harry's hands in place with just one of his own pressing lightly down. It's more of a suggestion than a demand, and John uses his free hand to feed Harry one of the remaining blackberries from the bowl.]

If the Deeps is your idea of a successful date, I would hate to see what a bad one is in your opinion. [He'll just hold Dresden here for a moment longer, enjoying the proximity, before leading him upstairs.]