It was a gloomy and much too ordinary Wednesday. In fact it had been a quiet week so far; all too quiet.

Awfully quiet.

Sherlock Holmes, who lazily lied on the couch, sighed deeply; his redundant comment on this fact.

He attempted a retreat to the palace of his own mind in search of some sort of distraction from this horrendous boredom.

And there he was sure he saw the walls of the imaginary structure crumble and waste away before him; as it had stood unused for far too long now.

His long body felt heavy; and he relished that feeling. It allowed him to stay where he was; it slowed down his ability to act on the urges… the very urges that were always there in the background; no matter how hard he had tried to deny their existence.

The work seemed to muffle them somewhat… but when there was none; they seemed to only get louder until they could no longer be ignored.

So; the best hope for him was to keep his mind busy… or lie there, on his own hands: In a form of soft self-bondage to keep himself under control.

He barely noticed that the other one entered the living room. Sherlock didn't even notice him sitting himself on the table; facing him… He was far too busy ignoring the persistent prickling of his own skin.

"Have you even moved today?" It was a soft voice; a soft concern laced with a kind smile that often came from John.

It took physical strength for Sherlock to turn his own head to face him; look into those very eyes. Eyes he knew so well; in every shade and hue that every little change of the light changed them into.

He gave no answer though. He knew too well he was in an irritable mood today… sometimes silence was simply the best solution; with him being in this annoying state.

"Sherlock, you can't keep lying around like that until we get the next case… who knows when that'll be!?"

He was trying again; the fair-haired man.

He cared so much. Too much.

The only answer was a groan.

Watch me!

"Not talking either" John deduced out loud.

Suddenly, then, John's face lit up; though he seemed to try to hide the excitement he had caused himself.

Sherlock furrowed his brow; noticing this change of mood… making his own silent deductions.

Perhaps it wasn't the worst thing… considering this need he had for distractions for those pesky urges.

John sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth, held it and released it; his body betraying his wish to seem calm and collected. At least unaffected.

"Maybe," he put his hand on the edge of the table to stabilize himself. "Maybe we should see how quiet you can be" he winked his eye at Sherlock who did know what that meant. The dangerous glimmer in his eyes had already given the game away.

Sherlock's eyes widened; his own body reacted to what he had been proposed. His body temperature rose, as did every hair on his body; especially those on the nape of his neck. It was an interesting study in chemicals and hormones that played out within him.

Oh, this could be good. This could be very, very good.

John leapt from the table and steered right to where Sherlock's coat was hanging. There he grabbed the long blue scarf that hung over it; and Sherlock could almost see and follow John's thought process. He at least wished he could… the anticipation was slowly starting to get the better of him.

Returning to the couch John locked eyes with Sherlock.

"Bedroom now." He ordered; but not roughly this time. With his breathlessness it was closer to begging than it was commanding.

John seemed to have his own needs to fulfil…

Sherlock tried to deny his own want and lust; contemplating being a difficult subject… just to see how John would react. But it was not the feeling of pain Sherlock needed today… so reluctantly he swung his long legs over the edge of the couch and languishedly rose to his feet.

John made his way to the bedroom and Sherlock followed a few steps behind.

John couldn't wipe the grin off of his face; he was beyond pleased that Sherlock was playing along.

"Off with your shirt" John stopped once the two of them stood in front of the bed. It was another breathy; begging order.

John was clearly trying his best to appear cold and commanding; but his entire body was betraying him.

And silently Sherlock slid out of the dressing gown and threw the well-worn shirt over his head; dropping it to the floor next to the blue silk gown.

John could not help but let his eyes wander over Sherlock's pale and freshly exposed skin; it filled him with electricity: the mere thought of running his hands over his muscular body… an electricity that radiated all the way to his cock, making it twitch into life.

"Now give me your hands" John faced Sherlock. He was still doing what he could to remain in control of the situation and himself.

Without hesitation; eagerly even, Sherlock offered his wrists to him. He; himself doing a bad job of seeming uninterested…

Expertly John knotted them together with the scarf. It gave Sherlock a spark of the same electricity that had flowed through John when their hands touched; and it had the same effect on Sherlock.

"Will you do and obey to everything I say?" John's eyes looked directly into Sherlock's. They practically bore themselves into his.

Sherlock nodded; wordlessly.

"And you are not going to make a sound" John continued to list the simple rules of today's game. "Make a sound and I stop. No matter what I'm doing to you, I'll stop. This will also count as your safeword" John's eyes still held Sherlock's in a vice grip.

The answer was a solemn nod.

Sherlock's heart was racing already… the sweet anticipation of what John would do to him… and the danger of not knowing exactly what.

John gave the knot a final tug and Sherlock; as he had been instructed to on a previous, and similar occasion tested the knot before letting his bound hands drop. It was for his own benefit… he could well remember how that one time the knot came undone; not having been tight enough as it was one of the first times and John was still trying to find his footing about how soft or rough to go… had ruined the mood, or rather, it ruined the game, when Sherlock's hands had sprung free in the heat of the moment.

"Trousers" John panted; his eyes looking down Sherlock's body realizing he was still wearing them… and, oh, they were in the way!

It wasn't impossible; but it was downright silly to have Sherlock struggle to strip out of them while being bound. John chewed his lip and without warning put his hands on Sherlock's hips. Sherlock's lips parted and he felt a tug in the lowest pit of his abdomen; his cock twitched.

Kneeling down in the same motion John slid Sherlock's comfortable trousers down; leaving Sherlock only wearing his bulging white pants.

"I see you're aroused already" he looked up at Sherlock who seemed to blush in reaction to John's observation. It was not that he was ashamed; but when they played these games Sherlock's frame of mind and his awareness of himself became altered.

Without warning John's hands crept back up Sherlock's long legs; and rummaged over his pants; and John let his finger glide along Sherlock's covered length.

Sherlock's hips bucked. He had become a lot more sensitive than he was normally.

Damn it. This vow of silence would not be as easy as he had hoped…

"Better get you out of these, too. There's no room for your bloody erection" John mused; proud of what he had managed to do to Sherlock. He knew exactly how vulnerability worked on him.

John hooked his fingers into the side of the pants and pulled them down; nearly having Sherlock's erect cock slap him in the face as it was freed of the garment.

"Sit on the bed" John spoke as he rose to his feet.

Sherlock was shivering and stumbled slightly as he sat himself down on the bed behind him; his eyes were locked on John; his head full of questions… full of the need for John to touch him.

"Put your hands behind your head" John asked; already helping Sherlock move them… John softly touched the nape of his neck and he drew a sharp breath in.

He then crawled onto the bed himself; sitting himself right behind Sherlock on his knees on each side of Sherlock's thighs.

Putting one hand around Sherlock's stomach to steady him, John bowed over him. Sherlock could feel John's hard bulge push into his spine and even that made him gush with excitement.

John let his hand tickle down to Sherlock's inner thigh where he softly stroked it back and forth; stopping before he touched Sherlock's cock.

Sherlock's cock twitched and grew even harder; his back started to sway in the rhythm that John moved in as John was playing him like a string instrument.

John smirked. He knew the erogenous zones well and he was close to knowing the ones to work on Sherlock to get him all hot and bothered; taking him over that edge.

John's lips were so close to Sherlock's shoulder and he couldn't resist leaving kisses on the naked skin. He heard the satisfied sigh escape Sherlock's plump lips and internally mused whether or not to penalize the sound.

"Remember; be quiet" he ran his nail against Sherlock's inner thigh instead of the soft digit.

Sherlock nodded eagerly.

"Fuck. you're hard" John groaned right into his ear and let his fingers trail all the way from thigh; over scrotum and over the string on the back of Sherlock's cock all the way to the tip that was already oozing precum.

Sherlock bucked; his hips trying to thrust against John's fingers… but they only went back to his thigh and played aimlessly… cruelly… with his skin.

Sherlock cursed the silence… he wanted to beg John to move his hand back… to grab him, to take him into his hand and make him cum…

But John was playing… and he was in charge of the game.

John once again let his tickling fingers travel… this time they made it to Sherlock's groin and lower abdomen.

John knew and felt the peril he caused him. Sherlock was practically writhing like a worm in his arms. He let out a chuckle; letting Sherlock know he enjoyed the torture.

"Why don't we get you on your hands and knees" John moaned into Sherlock's ear.

He replied with a nod and John moved on the bed after having helped Sherlock get his hands in front of him; allowing Sherlock to get into position.

From the nightstand John found the lube and placed it on the bed next to Sherlock's head… letting him know the next step. This was not kindness though… this was part of the torture… making him excited for it.

John took the lube again as he got into position behind Sherlock and put the edge of the tube to his backside; prying the buttocks gently open.

The cold lube trickled down over Sherlock's opening that had already started gasping from the stimulation that had already been applied to Sherlock's mind and body.

His hips gave a jolt and a delicious sigh was heard.

"Silence" John put an index finger over the hole; as if it was a pair of lips.

He softly swirled the tip of his finger around the sensitive puckering outside. And Sherlock's hands started kneading softly; letting John know he was causing him pleasure.

Gently he continued the circles; knowingly doing it long enough for Sherlock to want to groan at him to 'get on with it'… and then he did it a little more… before without a warning slipping the finger in; just to the first joint.

Sherlock pressed his mouth to the linen on the bed.

He had always had such a responsive and sensitive sphincter.

John moved the little tip of his finger in and out; slowly, slowly making more room… then he let it sink to the next joint.

Sherlock's knees buckled softly.

So, John continued to push his finger out and in to the second joint; rhythmically slow… until; again without warning he quickly pushed in to the knuckle. The result was another hip buck. John made sure to keep his finger away from Sherlock's prostate. Not yet… not yet!

He swirled the finger around as he moved in and out; faster now… until he went back to the first joint and pushed in another finger; slowly widening Sherlock's rectum…

And Sherlock was falling apart on the bed in front of him. His fingers twitched and his cock was now wet with precum.

"I haven't even touched your prostate" John chuckled as both fingers made it to the second joint.

Sherlock felt bewildered. He felt it… he could feel it. What the hell was John doing to his senses?

When John decided there was room enough he decided to take mercy on poor Sherlock; whose hips were grinding back at him. His pale ass was trying to push back against John's fingers to give him what he needed.

John pushed one finger in and found the prostate and Sherlock gave a hard jolt. His other hand moved over Sherlock's thigh and grabbed his cock. And in a hard simultaneous pump John worked both erogenous zones hard. He jerked Sherlock's cock forward; slipping the pad of his thumb over the tip as his finger inside teased the prostate until Sherlock couldn't hold back anymore.

It took inhuman strength for Sherlock to not make a sound and cry out as his body literally exploded in a sea of pleasure. He pressed his mouth hard into the sheet and rode out the pleasure; his entire body bucking and John let him ride out the pleasure; softly working him still.

"Good boy" John moaned; leaning over Sherlock's back. He was honestly impressed that he managed the task… and pleased… he didn't want the game to be over just yet.

John unbuckled his trousers, sliding them down along with his pants; revealing his own hard erection.

"Now it's my turn, too" John reached for the lube and squirted some into his hand; lubricating his cock… making the next part of the game a little easier.

Sherlock heard what happened behind him; and he felt it difficult to catch his breath. Oh fuck. He wanted it. He needed to feel John inside him…

John put his hands on either side of Sherlock's hips and moved himself up against Sherlock's ass. He aligned his cock with Sherlock's prepared opening and pushed the head against it; until it gave way and John's head popped inside his sphincter.

Sherlock gave out a sigh. He felt the pressure of his hole straining around the mushroom head.

He panicked the second he made the sound. No. Don't stop now… please, please… not now. Damnit.

But John pretended that he didn't hear it; he was far too greedy as well. Gosh… he loved being right there… he loved what he could do with Sherlock at the end of his own cock.

But he held it still long enough for Sherlock to worry.

John withdrew the head and Sherlock felt the dread. No. Don't stop… please! He was begging internally.

John pushed the head back in, and sank himself a little deeper. He continued to move slowly; slowly letting himself sink deeper into Sherlock. Making sure there was room for him with each soft thrust.

Sherlock's hands cramped; his back arched and he pushed himself back onto John's cock; opening himself up further in the process.

John's hands caressed Sherlock's hips as he was working himself all the way inside; until he made it to the hilt and his hips met with Sherlock's.

"You feel so good" John moaned to Sherlock; and Sherlock could feel that. He felt John's cock twitch and throb with excitement inside of him; against his stretched walls.

John began to move now; for real. He pushed in deep with each thrust he made… John was free to groan in excitement and he didn't hold back.

Sherlock struggled with his silence; chewing on his lip; pressing his head into the sheets under him.

John was filling him so deliciously… and when he pushed the deepest he was hitting the prostate.

Sherlock's cock was twitching too; throbbing… oh if only his hands were free he could help himself.

John's hands stayed on his hips; giving himself support behind his hard thrusts.

Oh, please John…

It almost hurt how his cock was throbbing unaided.

As if John had read Sherlock's mind one of his hands found Sherlock's cock and in an erratic pace he tried to jerk him off as he pounded him.

Suddenly John slowed down inside of him; making long hard strokes as he began to gush; cumming inside of Sherlock's body and Sherlock felt it; he felt the spurts hit the sensitive walls. And it took him over the edge.

"Ohhhhh!" Sherlock groaned as he himself came; splattering cum on the bed in front of him.

John kept himself imbedded in his body even as his own cumming stopped; letting Sherlock ride out his own pleasure.

Only when Sherlock's body made the very last convulsion and the last spurt of cum shot from his cock did John withdraw himself; slipping out of him.

Without trouble he flipped Sherlock over and undid the scarf; throwing it to the floor before he crawled up to put his lips on Sherlock's in a long lingering kiss; his eyes looking fondly into Sherlock's.

"You failed" he chuckled as he pulled his lips from Sherlock's who was reluctantly letting him go.

Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes.

"And you're still not talking?" John laughed. Sherlock shook his head.

"Ah well. But we better get cleaned up! You made a mess" John crawled onto the floor and picked Sherlock up; giving him a slap on the arse.