"Sherlock, please!"

Christ, John did not need Sherlock moaning into his ear. Not this early, and not... ever, he supposed. If anything, did he really have to be that close to his damn ear when he did it? But he wasn't letting go. Why the hell wasn't he letting go? "Sherlock-!!" It was the best he could do to try to get his attention like this. Now, instead, he finds himself in a rather awkward and potentially dangerous situation.

There are of course a number of things that John can do to fix this and get on with his morning and pretend none of it ever happened. The sooner that John could put all of this nonsense out of his mind and in the past, the sooner he could get on with his life.

Still, he can't deny that the voice was doing... things to him... things he didn't want to think about or even acknowledge as things at all. He was growing more and more uncomfortable by the second, and being so violently pressed against the floor was absolutely not helping. He tapped the floor again, and when it was plainly obvious that Sherlock was miles away, he did the only thing he could think to do to grab his attention:

He ducked his head and sank his teeth into his arm.