I wrote a thing in AtlinMerrick's 'Bat John' (AO3 3434753) and then was asked to write it for real. Considering I also need a break from a prompt that won't rest (so many rewrites ;-; ), here I go, descending into another level of 'wtf kat'.

Cross-posted from AO3 on time.

Sherlock's penis was thick and full in the wrap of John's wings, and the small bat siddle down to rest in the small hammock created by Sherlock's pants. Something warm and wide and heavy settled at his back for a moment and he turned his head to nuzzle his face against what he knew to be the man's palm before turning back to what he really desired. It didn't bring the same fulfillment within his body as the blood that kept him alive did, but the white nectar that flowed from his human's most precious limb brought a different kind of satisfaction, both in himself and Sherlock.

Carefully, ever so carefully, he wrapped all four sets of his claws in the excess skin and pulled his body as close to the head of the limb as he could, bending his body in half so he could rub his penis against the head of his human's as he drank his fill. 'Semen', Sherlock had called it. Or 'come'. Whatever the name, it was thick and musky and much too delicious. His little cock slid along the human's delicate skin as he suckled at the slit, the pleasure building high in his body, a pleasure he'd never known until Sherlock took him into his life, and into his pants.

The bat felt his lower half slipping and he slowly moved his bottom claws closer to his top ones, gripping as carefully as he could to keep from cutting. Without warning, his penis slid into the hole from which his nectar flowed, and was surrounded with warmth and wet. The body carrying him jolted, and he could hear a familiar man murmur a concerned "Sherlock?" before the warmth of a palm settled at his back again- "I'm fine. Continue."- nudging him forward, encouraging him to do it again. So he did.

His penis was no where near large enough for it to stretch even a little bit of the man's slit, but as soon as he slid his hips forward again, the hand at his back pushed firmly before disappearing entirely. John continued pushing his penis into his human's, the nectar keeping the slide gentle and and slick, and kept flowing down his throat as the bat worked hard to keep folded in half, unwilling to let up either the sensation or the taste.

It was not long before he could feel his release building and pushing forward, though perhaps it was a bit quicker in approach than usual. After all, this new feeling around his penis was nearly indescribable in the way it pleasured him. He licked his lips and dove into the slit that was leaking more nectar than ever, an event that always heralded his human's own release. When his own finally hovering just above, ready to dive, he released one front claw to reach up into the cave of tender loose skin and grip the flared edge of where the man's penis flared like a mushroom away from the stalk. His second front claw followed, and he wormed his head into the moist, musky, heated space. He quickly discovered that the change in position made it easier to thrust his penis into the slit of his humans, and as the great pleasure swooped through him, he bared his fangs, careful to avoid the healing scar from his last bite, and sunk them into the line of a pulsing vein.

With the pierce of his fangs and the flood of blood into his hungry mouth, his release moved through him, like wind through the trees, and he shook like a leaf. Sherlock's body went rigid as nectar fell like a waterfall over John, soaking him and pushing him from his source of food and drink. The small bat stubbornly hung on until the waterfall ceased and his hunger was sated, and then he slowly let his body relax into support of his human's pants. This was one of his favourite parts, the after, where his limbs were loose and comfortable and his belly was full. Best of all, now he could groom, could lick all of Sherlock's nectar from his fur until he was fresh and clean again.

It was a slow, time consuming process, made even more difficult when his human began to flutter about, jarring John in his cave. But he persevered, not stopping until his fur, and the fabric around him, was spotless, if damp. Full to the extreme, and still pliant, he clambered back onto his Sherlock's penis, content to hang there and wait for when his mate may call on him for assistance.

FIN

There is no end to my perversion and aren't you glad of that.

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought, good or bad, in the Comments, and if bad, please be constructive so that I may better my writing! :3 Also, if you liked the story enough to want to promote/rec it on tumblr, instead of creating a new post, please reblog my original post (themadkatter13fanfiction tumblr, post/112935097233)! Thank you so much! You are, of course, also more than welcome to follow me on tumblr as well! :3 Tschüß~