Oh well great Maker. James felt his eyes shut, and a faint shudder ran all the way through him. The front of his breeches jumped a little in response, and his voice was all low and rich, as he sighed, "Yes ... well. I shall make him comfortable on the other end of the room. But first."

He turned, and pressed Jim back into the wall, so that they were flush with one another, and kissed the dickens out of that smirking mouth. If only to give himself a moment's pleasure. Or ... two. Or perhaps three.
He couldn't help it if his mouth roamed, or if Jim's did, or his hands did the same in a hungry sort of fashion. He certainly couldn't control the state of undress he was in by the time he managed to pull away.

Suffice to say, though, he was going to bodily be lifting Interceptor up, one blanket beneath him, to put the pup near the door. Interceptor opened one eye, gave him an odd look, but snuffed and went back to sleep.

"... Right. Bed. Now. Please?"