Chapter Seven: Recovery

A week and a half passed in a blink of an eye. John couldn't tell how many questions Lestrade had for him about what happened, though Sherlock probably could. But the DI hadn't visited for four days, John supposed he was done for now. John wished that meant he was back to normal, but he found himself jumping when he was alone, and drinking more tea than normal. He was wound tighter than he could ever remember and he had invaded Afghanistan. In the mornings before he completely woke up he'd remember the perfect release Sherlock had given him that day, and muffled his tears in his pillow as his body responded to the memory. That morning was no different as the doctor wiped his eyes and tied his robe tightly to hide the erection that would go away soon as he walked straight into the kitchen for his morning cuppa.

Sherlock laid on the couch, his eyes closed and his hands prayered beneath his chin. It had been far too long since he had a distraction or a case. He needed something to get his mind going. Maybe he should find a new distraction. John had only been a temporary distraction that hadn't worked out, so there was nothing stopping him.

John found himself moving into the chair closest to couch instead of his normal chair. "Sherlock I... I need to relax." He surprised himself as the words fell from his mouth. "Would.. you please help me?

Sherlock didn't open his eyes as he spoke to the doctor, curious that John had actually come to him. He had seen how sexually frustrated John had become, but had actually expected him to go find a girl not come to the detective who had particulartastes. "And how would you like me to do that?"

John shifted uncomfortably, still having trouble admitting it to himself that he found Sherlock attractive. "Um... The way you did it before." He kept his eyes on the floor as he spoke. "You know what I mean."

The detective opened his eyes, but didn't look at John as he continued to keep his face carefully blank. "You are going to need to be more specific than that, John."

John flushed, feeling hot in the cool room. "Why? You know what I mean.. And it's hard to say."

"Because, if you can't mange to say it, then you don't want it." Sherlock said as his eyes slid closed again. If John couldn't say what he wanted out loud, then Sherlock was not going to do anything. The doctor would be able to say it, if he wanted it badly enough.

John also closed his eyes, blushing as he thought about it, deciding almost instantly. "Sherlock.. P-Please, dominate me the way you did again. I want to be yours.."

"Get up. Go to my room. Strip. Get on the bed." Sherlock commanded, his voice stern and commanding as he continued to lay there unmoving.

John shuddered softly as he stood, feeling uneasy until he got into Sherlocks room, where he was instantly comforted by the soft scent of Sherlock. He stripped and got into the big bed, covering his body with the blanket quickly. He watched the door with wide eyes, wondering when Sherlock would come in, his anxiety rising slowly as he waited.

The detective didn't move from the couch for another six minutes exactly, he had kept careful track. Standing, he took his time to straightened out his shirt before heading into his room and to his closet, opening the chest inside. He pulled out a silk tie and a dog collar before turning to John. "Remove the blanket. Do not hide from me, pet."

John stared at the two objects in Sherlocks hands as his body obeyed instantly, removing the blanket to show his cock, already half hard from excitement. His breath came in short quick puffs, as he willed himself to trust Sherlock no matter what was about to happen.

"Do you remember the word I told you?" Sherlock asked as he stepped forward, fastening the collar around John's neck, his finger tips brushing against the sensitive skin there.

John shivered and nodded slowly. He licked his lips and whispered huskily. "Symphony." He stared up at the other man, his heart pounding in his chest and leaned his head so his cheek might brush against sherlocks slender hand. "Please..."

"I will give you a choice, pet. Do you want to be tied to the bed, or blind folded?" Sherlock held the red silk in his hand as he looked at John in the collar, a sense of possessiveness washing over him.

John bit his lip hard as he thought. Both options scared him but he liked getting the choice. "Tied up please.. I don't like the dark much anymore."

Sherlock gave no outward response other than trying John's wrists to the bed frame before pulling open his nightstand and pulling out a bottle of lube. "I'm going to turn you into such a little slut. When I'm finished, you'll be nothing but a moaning mess."

John blushed hotly at Sherlocks words and looked away quickly, feeling himself grow harder at those words even as he tried to forget about the restraints.

Sherlock went to the trunk, pulling out a medium sized plug before walking back over to his pet and settling onto the bed between his legs. He coated a few of his fingers before pressing them against John's entrance, pushing two in at once.

"Ah!" John bit his lip hard and groaned. He swallowed hard and whispered. "M-may I speak?"

A low groan left Sherlock in warning, the only warning his pet would get. If John was going to speak, he needed to call Sherlock 'sir' or 'Master'. The detective would have no choice, but to punish him if he didn't.

Johns eyes widened slightly and nodded, pressing his lips tightly together to hold back his moan.

The detective crooked his fingers inside John as he looked at him. "Speak, pet, but remember your place."

John groaned softly. "Ooh fuck.. Yes sir.." He lifted his hips towards the other man, gasping softly as he tried to get more of Sherlocks long fingers inside him. "Please.."

"Please, what? You need to be specific." Sherlock pulled his fingers back slightly, purposefully not giving the doctor what he craved.

John whined and struggled against the silk necktie that bound him to the bed. "I need more sir. Please, more now."

Sherlock scissored his fingers to stretch the other man, but didn't give him what he asked. "No. You need to convince me, pet, that you truly want me to give you more."

"F-fuck.." John panted softly and looked up into Sherlocks eyes. "Please... Master.. I need more inside me, fill me, use me, m-make me scream and cum and beg for more!"

A jolt went through Sherlock, one that he would never admit to, at John's words. Completely forgetting the toy he had intended on using, Sherlock removed his fingers and undid his pants. "Such a little slut. I'll give you what you want and you /will/ scream."

The doctor whimpered softly at those words, his insides clenching in need. "Yes... I'm your slut Master, only yours.."

With quick movements, the detective coated himself with the lube before pushing into the other man with no warning as he bit back a groan at the tight heat that surrounded him.

"Aagh!" John threw his head back panting heavily as Sherlock stretched him wide open, much wider than the little toy they'd previously used. "Oh G-god..you're too big!"

Sherlock fought the urge to plunge the other half of his length into his pet's tight little body. Reeling in all of his self control, the detective stayed completely still and moved his hand to give John a few slow, pleasing strokes. "Relax." He said calmly in the doctor's ear.

John groaned as Sherlock touched him, keeping his eyes closed as the burning sensation ebbed away slowly. Once it felt alright, the doctor opened his eyes and squirmed slightly under the other man. "M-more please Master, I want more."

"Keep relaxed." He said as he pushed himself the rest of the way inside John, his hips hitting his pet's arse. Sherlock swallowed around the groan that tried to rise in his throat, his brow furrowed slightly in concentration.

John didn't restrain himself and let out a long low moan, feeling more full than he thought possible. "A-ahhh Sherlock.."

Sherlock pulled out almost all the way and slammed back in. Hard. "What did you say, /pet/. Do I need to stop and leave you here?"

John whimpered and groaned, shaking his head quickly. "Oooh.. god no, please M-Master I'm sorry. Please... Mmm, l-like that."

Continuing his slow, hard, punishing pace. A grunt left him with each thrust he made into that deliciously tight heat. "You like being used like the little cock slut you are, don't you, pet? Beg. I want you to beg for me to fuck you like the filthy little slut you are."

John groaned loudly at the verbal abuse, clearly loving every second of this as his cock pulsed. "Ooh please master! F-fuck me, fuck your little cock slut fast and hard, I want to be your little whore that you bend over whenever you want and use my arse as a cumdump!" John was practically shouting as he begged, writhing under Sherlock, panting and moaning from his Masters hard thrusts.

"I plan on it." Sherlock bit the man's neck before running his tongue over the mark, his hips moving in rhythm to a practiced pace. "When I'm done with you no one will be able to even get you hard ever again."

"Ahh... Urgh.. Oooh g-god yes.." John lifted his hips groaning as he tried to get more from the thrusts, his fists tightly closed above his head as he struggled for more. "Fuck me harder Master!"

The detective began to move faster and deeper. Sherlock bit into the doctor's neck, feeling an urge to kiss him but pushing it away.

John groaned loudly as Sherlock pumped into him, his eyes closed tightly from the sensations. "Ooh... F-fuck, god yes Sir, like that!" He leaned his head away, giving his master more room to bite and suck on his neck.

Sherlock stroked the other man in time with his every thrust, whispering against the sensitive skin of his neck. "Cum for me, pet."

John arched as Sherlock brought him to the edge, the huskily spoken command sending him over with a cry. "A-aghh!"

A low groan left the detective as he began to loose his rhythm, thrusting hard and fast into the other man before burying himself as deep as he could go and releasing.

John shivered under the weight of the other man, the hot pool of cum inside him making the room seem colder. "Mmm..." He nuzzled his face against Sherlocks black curly mane, smiling softly.

Taking a moment to recollect himself, Sherlock stayed where he was before pulling out and untying John. He got up and put everything away before stripping down to his boxers, removing his now soiled shirt. "You're free to sleep there if you want, but don't expect any post orgasmic cuddling."

John blinked at the cool tone of Sherlocks voice and looked down, now feeling hurt instead of blissful release. "I... Was I not good?"

All of Sherlock's movement came to a halt at John's words. Well, that tone was never a good sign. This was why he went through lovers so quickly. They always took his distance in a negative way, but he had to distance himself. Attachments were always a complication that he couldn't afford, but when heard that hurt tone in John's voice, something inside him cringed. "No." He answered, turning to face John. "You were fantastic. I just don'tcuddle." Sherlock tried to think of a way to fix this, the doctor had been hurt enough already. "I can make us both tea, if you want."

John looked up surprised, Sherlock didn't normally lie and never offered to make him tea. "That would be nice.." John had to smile softly. "I'd actually like that a lot."

The detective nodded and headed out of his room and to the kitchen to make them both tea just the way John liked it. He came back a little while later with two cups, handing one to the doctor before he moved to sit on the edge of the bed and sip his.

John had covered himself with the blanket, but decided not to take the collar off. He liked the weight of it and the way it made him feel. He took the tea gratefully. "Ah, Thanks very much." He took a sip then paused, studying the tea. "You know how I take my tea."

"Yes." Sherlock said and he drank more of his own tea, not bothering to deny it. He had actually paid attention while John had made his tea and it had stuck in his mind along with all the other John Watson related things that he couldn't manage to just delete.

John took another sip and quickly decided that Sherlock made better tea than he did. He smiled softly into the mug. Or maybe he just like Sherlock making him the tea. "It's perfect." He drank it happy then put the empty mug on the bedside table, feeling drowsy from the warm drink and so decided to rest his eyes a moment.

The detective quietly drank his tea, but didn't finish it as he got up to set it on the bedside table next to John's. He paused for a moment to look at the doctor, he looked quite peaceful.

The stress from the last week coupled with the intense sex and calming warm tea had helped John slip off into dreamland seconds after closing his eyes. The real thing that made him sleep though was being safe in Sherlock's bed. The week he had to sleep in his room, he'd tossed and turned all night, unable to trust the lock on the door as proper protection. Tonight was different. He knew Sherlock would always protect him.

Sherlock watched John for a moment longer before moving to the other side of the bed and sitting down. He looked at the doctor who was sound asleep, surely he wouldn't wake him. Carefully, he inched closer before laying down beside the other man, his arm hesitantly curling around him. Something in Sherlock told him that this was right and for once, he didn't fight it. The detective curled his body around John's, his arms holding the doctor protectively. While laying there, all the things that usually floated around and clouded his head seemed to vanish. Before he knew it, sleep had claimed him as well.