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Summary
Simon can already hear it while he still has a full flight of stairs left to go. Muffled through the reinforced front door he had installed on what used to be his own flat - and Christ, you’d think that door was thick enough, but no... there’s that voice of yours, breaking into a near falsetto.
Can’t make out the words over the sound of the neighbour’s music and his own heavy footfalls on the worn stairs, but he doesn’t need to. Can tell by the pitch of your voice what it’ll be saying by this point - just a steady babble of “oh, Johnny, oh, Johnny…”
Johnny wants to be walked in on. Of course he does. That’d just make his whole week.
Or:
Johnny's got himself a girl and Simon wants to make her his.
