"Argh," it took John a moment to place the low moan.
"AARgh – hurts," Sherlock hissed. He had curled in on himself and was pressing both hands to his underbelly, rocking gently.
John jumped up and walked over to the man in pain.
"Sherlock, what's wrong?"
"There's n-argh, nothing, ngh-," unable to finish his retort, Sherlock buried his head in the couch.
"Yeah, nothing wrong with you at all. Except you're in pain. Where does it hurt?"
"Nnngggh!"
"SHERLOCK," John was losing patience.
"Cramps," the detective managed through gritted teeth, which made John inquire the whereabouts of the cramps further.
"Abdomin-ngh-al, argh."
"Let me have a look."
"NO!" Sherlock curled up again and rolled away from John.
"Alright, you leave me no choice," John sighed and grabbed his mobile, "Let's ask your brother, shall we?"
"Don't care." That was new.