John came out of the room when he knew Sherlock had left. He saw the package with the collar had been delivered and placed it on Sherlock's bed before grabbing his phone and retreating back upstairs. The collar itself was sleek, leather, a deep navy blue that looked nearly black. The hardware was a gleaming silver.

He sighed and dropped his head back. He understood the not wanting to snoop. And he really hadn't. Sherlock had left his laptop open. It was a grey area and he felt awful, yet not, for looking through Sherlock's things. He sighed softly and then rubbed his head. Fuck.

He stayed upstairs for the rest of the day, reading a book he kept up here.