If John weren't so deliciously toe-curlingly distracted, he might have felt the need to point out that Q sounded ridiculously posh just now. Except, problematically, it sounded perfect just the way it'd come out. More distraction is not needed, and so he pushes that thought aside.
Instead, he tilts his head up with a look that he hopes is impressed and probably really is just stupid happy. His fingers have found a wonderful spot on Q's too-boney hips and it will come as a shock to no one at all when he digs his nails into the skin there later.
It takes a second -- to adjust -- to acclimate to the situation, but that doesn't stop him pressing his hips up just a little anyway.