Q lets out a gasp, then a breathy moan, delving his fingers into John's hair and tugging because god what a mouth John has on him, it's not fair.
He's not in a fantastic position to touch much of John, which is also unfair, so he touches what he can, dragging his fingers over John's shoulders, scraping bitten down nails against the back of his neck, toes clenching as John marks him more thoroughly.