"Mmh," is all Martin has to say at first, his eyes slipping shut as John touches him, even something so light and small feeling wonderfully potent and almost scandalous. It has, regardless of their odd week, been a little while since they did this, just fooled around in bed before getting up, and he does rather miss it.

"I can think of a few," he says, his voice going very soft and his eyes opening just enough to peer at John through a big warm smile. "Suppose it might make us a bit late to work, but seeing as we answer to me..."

His voice catches, partly from a slight hitching breath as John continues to brush his thumb along Martin's side, but that small moment is enough to break his concentration, just enough to wake him up to the detail they both managed to forget.

Daisy is in the other bloody room. They hadn't wanted to go to sleep alone, hadn't been able to just trust they'd wake up grown and knowing what to do. She wouldn't have left them for anything, so she is still out there, acute senses, early hours, and all.

"Oh, fuck," he blurts, looking immediately mortified.