"Yes, John?" Sherlock asked with a smirk, knowing that it hadn't been a question. "If you have something to say, then say it now."

As he spoke he trailed his hand down John's chest, over his stomach, still mostly toned with just the tiniest hint of softness to it, and to the waistband of his trousers, where he played with the button and flies, but he didn't undo it yet.