Sherlock ignored the words spilling out of John and instead chose to listen to the sounds that came in between them. Every gasp and moan, every hitch of breath and quaver, all of it parsed out in-between meaningless words like "no" and "stop" and "please."
"Oh, god, no." The detective shuddered at that, those breathy words involuntarily exhaled as his teeth sunk into the tender skin of John's neck. So good. Sun and sweat and skin and the smell of John permeating everything. His nostrils flared as he inhaled, the scent only stiffening his cock.
"Sherlock, no." John managed to push the man's head away, hands grasping either side of his face and searching the eyes there. "Sherlock, you need to stop this. We are in a park. There are people. Not to mention, we don't do things like this."
Sherlock huffed, irritated and more than a little distracted at the moment. But, this was John after all, and if a short explanation would shut him up and make him a little more agreeable, he would suffer the tedium.
"How long have you been seeing Lestrade?" Sherlock casually re-arranged his clothing as he asked the seemingly meaningless question. John looked shock but quickly it turned into an expression that Sherlock had only ever seen when John thought he wasn't looking. It was need.
"Right, then." Sherlock thrust John back against the gardening shed they'd found secluded in the park. His hands clutched at John's shirt, pulling and twisting the fabric as he buried his face in the crook of John's neck, tongue and teeth working a frantic pace. "Move in with me, John."
John almost laughed but his breathing was too ragged. "I could have sworn I already had." He groaned as Sherlock's hands slid up the back of his jumper, long fingers dragging across his spine. His body instinctively arched against Sherlock's and he felt the detective's hands clench at the friction.
"John, my room, move into my room. Never leave." Despite his hands working aggressively across John's back and hips, his words had a pleading quality that melted what little resolve John had managed to preserve. Sherlock's lips stopped their frantic worrying at John's neck and turned to his mouth.
At the same time he pressed the full length of his body into the man, his knee wriggling between John's legs and creating an obscene amount of heat and friction.
"And when you get bored?" As much as his body screamed, he knew he couldn't resist asking. His teeth caught Sherlock's lower lip, worrying the sensitive skin and drawing a deep groan from the man. Inside, John cursed himself for needing an answer to that question.
Sherlock pulled himself away long enough to lock eyes with John. "Never leave me, John. I will do everything I can to make you happy but I will undoubtedly hurt you. I will never stop hurting you. Never. Now shut up and kiss me."
And he did. He knew Sherlock enough to know that a promise of a lifetime of pain was still a promise of a lifetime together.