"Never, John. Never." He swore to the man, and he meant it.

He shrugged his shoulders, helping the shirt fall off, letting it pool behind him. He ripped off the last couple of buttons, not paying the least bit of attention to the plinking of the buttons as they skittered across the wooden floor.

Sherlock's head went back when John's warm mouth found his nipples, and he ground down again. His legs were aching, being in this rather awkward position, but he didn't want to move, for fear that the moment would break and everything would become awkward and strange.