The sound of a door opening roused John from his sleep. He glanced at the clock and pushed his head into his pillow with a groan. It was just after seven in the morning and he was still beyond tired. He slipped his hand across the bed and found it empty and cold. So Sherlock was up and had been for some time.

John forced his body up off the bed and every limb screamed in response. He slipped into one of the plush cashmere robes the hotel provided and looked around for where Sherlock had disappeared to. He looked out onto the balcony and saw Sherlock's slim figure, his dark hair standing out in contrast to the snow covered city behind him.

Shoving his feet into his shoes, he opened the door and joined Sherlock outside. The balcony was barely dusted with snow and John was glad his feet wouldn't be getting cold and wet. It wasn't until he was closer that he noticed the cigarette placed between Sherlock's lips. He took a long drag and then slowly let the air escape from his lips. The motion was almost obscene and John watched in awe. He had no idea how Sherlock sucking poison into his lungs could turn him on so profusely and yet it didn't stop him from getting semi hard.

"I thought you gave up smoking." He said conversationally, not wanting to start an argument. He noticed the pack sitting on the railing of the balcony. "Isn't that why we have the never ending supply of nicotine patches?"

"Yes, well in my haste to pack not only my things but yours, I forgot them, and I needed to think."

"What about?" John pulled the robe tighter, flipping up the collar and moving it so it was covering his neck.

"You." Sherlock responded, his eyes drifting over and taking a long look up John's body. John shivered and knew it wasn't from the cold.

He moved closer. "Anything good?"

Sherlock's gaze drifted away. Not a good sign. "John, I think it is pertinent that we have a conversation about what occurred last night."

"You don't need to be all proper about it. We fucked Sherlock. A right proper shag. Don't tell me you're regretting it."

"On the contrary, my assumption was that you might." He said taking a slow drag and blowing the air out through his teeth.

"Why would I?"

"You had been drinking last night. Your judgment was impaired. Now that you are clear headed, I thought you might have had some regrets about…what we did."

"You thought the only reason I slept with you is because I had been drinking." John inferred.

"Yes." Sherlock nodded. He finished his cigarette and pressed it into the snow to distinguish it.

"You're an idiot." John grabbed the front of Sherlock's coat and pressed their lips together. He leaned his hips into Sherlock so he could feel John's erection and know exactly how John felt. Sherlock tasted like smoke and John tried not to mind too much. Smoking had been a big turn off for him in the past but for Sherlock he was willing to make a concession. Hell, he couldn't think of anything he wouldn't look past when it came to Sherlock.

John broke away but kept his hand on Sherlock's coat, pulling him towards the door. "Now will you come inside? It's fucking freezing out here."

Sherlock complied, grabbing the pack of cigarettes and shoving them in his pocket before allowing John to pull him inside.

XXXXX

Sherlock had apparently decided he was up to exploring John some more and John couldn't help thinking what a terrible idea this was. He was standing with his legs and arms spread, his hands on the cool glass of the balcony door. He was completely naked and felt self-conscious and extremely vulnerable. It wasn't that he didn't trust Sherlock, it was just that he had no idea what to expect and that made him nervous.

"Please relax John." Sherlock said soothingly from where he sat. He was sitting on his heels directly behind where John stood splayed out. He pushed himself up and kissed the small of John's back. "I won't do anything you're uncomfortable with. Perhaps we should have a way for you to communicate if you're in distress."

"Like a safe word?"

"Yes, exactly." Sherlock ran his hand down John's spine. "What should it be?"

"I don't care, you choose." John answered, craning his head to look back at Sherlock.

Sherlock considered it for a moment. "Violin." He decided.

"Why violin?" John asked. He was apposed to violin being their safe word, he was just curious.

"It was the first thing I thought of." Sherlock said with a shrug. "It's also unlikely to be something you would say during intercourse."

"Fair enough." John said turning his head back.

Sherlock's hand caressed down John's buttocks and then came to rest on his hips. He pulled John's cheeks apart with his thumbs and lowered his face. John felt Sherlock's tongue dart out and lick his hole.

"Jesus fucking Christ." John shouted wishing he had something to grip.

Sherlock slid his tongue further in and then back out. John was growing hard as Sherlock's tongue swirled inside his arse. His hand reached up and tugged his bullocks and John moaned loudly against the glass, his breath fogging it up.

Sherlock's tongue pulled away and John desperately wanted to turn around and see what he should expect next but didn't. He also wanted nothing more than to reach down and deal with his throbbing cock but he didn't do that either. He'd broken so easily the first time, he was determined to hold on longer. He tried to think about anything else to sooth his painful erection. But then a spit slick finger invaded his ass and he lost any bit on concentration he'd had.

Sherlock twisted his finger and John pressed his fingers into the glass, feeling like any moment he might break through it entirely. John couldn't help backing his arse up a bit, pushing Sherlock's finger deeper until he found his prostate. John groaned and moved away and back so it happened again. John rested his head on his arm and bit down hard on his own skin.

Sherlock removed his finger and John made a muffled whining noise. He heard Sherlock rise to his feet. "Tease." John shot over his shoulder. Sherlock chuckled and kissed in between John's shoulder blades.

John watched Sherlock's reflection in the glass as best he could, his body aching for Sherlock to finish what he'd started. He watched as Sherlock strode over to the bedside table and snatched up the bottle of lube. John was practically salivating at the thought of what Sherlock might do with that.

Sherlock seemed to be taking his time on the return trip. "If you don't hurry up I'll stick my own fingers up my arse." John threatened impatiently.

"My, my." Sherlock said. John watched as Sherlock's tall frame walked over and wrapped his arms around John's much smaller one. "I've never seen you like this John."

Sherlock's lips were at John's neck, sucking at his flesh vigorously. "It's not like you to be impatient or demanding."

He nipped at John's earlobe. "I quite like it." Sherlock confessed, his breath tickling John's ear and his low, sensual voice going right to John's cock.

Sherlock's hands let go of John's middle and John looked down to watch as Sherlock coated his fingers with the lube. "Oh my god." John said needing to touch himself. His hand went down to give himself some release but Sherlock batted his hand away.

"Not yet." John could see Sherlock's wicked grin reflected in the glass. God, he could have killed him.

"You're a bloody menace." John hissed through his teeth.

Sherlock ignored his anger and took his now lubricated finger and slipped it back into John's hole. He didn't bother being gentle this time, thrusting it as far in as it would go on the first try. John cried out, his hands sliding down, leaving a print on the foggy glass. Sherlock began moving his finger, doing little pulses. He added another finger and John's arse swallowed it greedily. John pushed into him, needing to feel him.

"Sh-Sherlock." John's voice was shaky.

"If you want me to stop, you know what you have to say."

"Don't you even dare think about stopping." John replied gruffly.

Sherlock slipped in a third finger, shoving it in roughly with the others. His other hand trailed down John's stomach and finally touched John's cock. He stroked him gently, moving at odds with the rapid pace of his fingers. John's hips froze, unsure of which direction they wanted to move in, which sensation he wanted more. Sherlock inserted a fourth finger.

"Violin." John shouted, completely overwhelmed. His body had tried to stretch to accommodate but it had been too much.

Sherlock removed his hands and stepped away. "You lasted longer than I expected John, I'm impressed."

"And exactly how many fingers were you planning on putting in there?" John asked agitated.

"As many as would fit." Sherlock's eyes flashed dangerously.

"Jesus." John said going weak in the knees. "Can't you just use your cock like a normal person?"

Sherlock moved closer and ground his hips against John's. "I was getting to that."

"Bloody hell." John's body shuddered with anticipation. He mashed his lips against Sherlock's, biting, sucking and licking in a frantic manner. He sucked on Sherlock's tongue while rolling his nipples between his fingers. The act elicited a loud moan from Sherlock.

"I need you to fuck me." John said, his blood pumping loudly in his ears, the only other sound was their panting breaths. "Now."

John had never felt so crazed in his life. He roughly pushed Sherlock towards the bed, practically throwing him onto it and jumping on top of him. He couldn't wait a second longer. The lube had been neglected and left across the room and John was too impatient to go get it. Instead he took Sherlock's cock into his mouth, covering it with his own saliva. He pulled away when it felt wet enough. Precome was escaping from the slit and he smeared it over the head for good measure.

He sat straddling Sherlock and sat down on his cock, allowing it into his body all at once. He reached up and pinned Sherlock's arms down over his head, making sure he was completely in control this time. He moved his body up and down, tightening himself around Sherlock's thick and throbbing prick. He moaned loudly, the friction feeling incredible.

He desperately wanted to relinquish Sherlock's hands so one of them could take a hold of his neglected penis. But he enjoyed the look of Sherlock helpless and needy beneath him too much to let go. Sherlock began jerking his hips upwards, plunging his cock deeper.

"Oh fuck." John said as Sherlock found the spot. "Fuck yes. Oh God yes."

Sherlock began circling his hips, his cock finding new and interesting places each time John ground down on top of him. When he couldn't stand it any more, he took one hand away and did his best to hold Sherlock's arms up with just one hand. The other seized his cock and pulled on it viciously. He thrust into his own hand while Sherlock continued to gyrate inside him.

"So good." Sherlock mumbled, his head buried against his arm.

"Sherlock." John moaned as he tugged at his angry prick. "I'm so close."

"So am I." Sherlock's grey eyes looked up at John from underneath his eyelashes. His eyes looked about ready to roll back into his head.

"Oh God. Sherlock!" John screamed, tilting his head back. Hot come shot out of his cock and landed on Sherlock's chest. It took a moment for the spots to disappear from his vision

"John." Sherlock cried hoarsely as his body shook, his come filling John.

"Fucking hell." John said running his fingers through his hair, trying to calm his breathing.

"You're incredible." Sherlock breathed, closing his eyes as his lips curled into that same satisfied smile John had seen the night before. Apparently it was the way Sherlock smiled after an orgasm.

"You're fantastic." John mused. He bent down and licked up his come from where it had landed. Sherlock made a humming noise as John's tongue worked his chest. Even though there was no come, he couldn't help taking on of Sherlock's nipples into this mouth and sucking it hard. Sherlock writhed beneath him but John's hand was still hold his hands down and his body pinned Sherlock to the bed.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Sherlock asked with a groan.

John laughed and released Sherlock's nipple. He lifted his body up and tipped onto his side to lie next to him on the bed. Sherlock's eyes were still closed so John moved a little closer, twisting his legs with Sherlock's and resting his head on his thin pale chest. He reached over and grabbed the sheets, lazily throwing them over their bodies. Within moments he was sleeping soundly.