My co-writer (Winterimperfect) did most the writing but I did write a bit.

John had been minding his own business all morning while Sherlock was in mind palace. .John wandered into the kitchen, ignoring the prone form of Sherlock as he worked out one of his many puzzles when Sherlock snapped to attention, startling him.

"John, go get me some tea." He snapped, not even bothering to look at John, but instead his phone.

"But, we have tea." John murmurs, staring at the container on the counter.

"Not that kind, John! The other kind!" Sherlock waved a hand in the air as he added, "The one I like, not that drivel. Go on, take my card."

John stared at the card Sherlock held in his hand with a scandalized look, "I was about to take my shower."

"You can take one after. I want my tea now." Sherlock's voice took on a whine, acting like a petulant child and it was grating on John's last nerve as he tried, once again, to refuse, "But-"

"Now, John." Sherlock snapped and John felt his patience snap.

He growled in the back of his throat, stalking forward and grabbing the card harshly before shoving his feet in his shoes, snarling out a, "Fine! Fine. I'll get your bloody tea, you ingrate!" as he slammed the door shut behind him.

A few minutes after John had stormed out, two men arrived. Dimitri was the older of the two he had short, messy brown hair and blue eyes. He was the same height as Sherlock but with a lean, muscular figure. His partner, Jason, had long chestnut hair and greenish-golden eyes- He was shorter than the other, but not by much.

"Does he know?"

"No, I sent him out. He will be at least twenty minutes. We can go over the ground rules."

-O-O-O-

John got back twenty after the hour from buying the damn tea Sherlock just had to have, only to find two men sitting on the couch. They looked to be partners and he assumed they were clients, so he put the bag full of tea on the table, which is when Sherlock walked up to him. He gestured down the hall for John to follow him, which he did much like a puppy. Sherlock ushered him into the bathroom and closed the door.

"John." Sherlock started immediately, making sure the blonde's attention was on him. "I've known for awhile now that you've been interested in a gangbang, now, now, shut your mouth. You really must learn to erase your internet history. Now, those gentlemen out in the living area have matched my specific criteria for your scene. Before we proceed I do believe it's procedure to learn your safeword as well as your consent so those fine gentlemen and myself can perform countless sexual acts with your explicit permission."

John stood flabbergasted shortly before muttering, "Cinnamon."

"Pardon?" Sherlock cocked his head and stared at John.

"I said Cinnamon! It's my safeword. And yes! Yes, I want to participate, goddammit." John flushed in both excitement and embarrassment at the knowledge that Sherlock more than likely looked at the porn he watched when alone late at night.

Sherlock then stuck his head out the door and hollered, "It's a go, set it up!"

-0-0-0-

John felt his heart palpitate as he strained his ears, listening to the whisper of fabric as the strange couple removed their clothing. He was splayed out like a turkey, practically. He was face down on a table- massage table, perhaps? He was bent over the edge; His legs were shackled to either side of the table via leather cuffs on either leg. His arms were held down by rope slung under the table to hold his arms in place. He was an offering, quite literally. A ring gag was in place just in case anyone wanted some oral while waiting for his offered rear end and he was blindfolded. He heard the deep murmur of Sherlock's voice, directing, and knowing they were looking at him, looking at him displayed like this that made his cock twitch to life, throbbing steadily from where it was resting, pressed under the padding of the table and against the wood of the frame.

"He sure does look tasty, who gets dibs on opening him up."

"That will be my pleasure." Sherlock murmured before John heard him walk up to him. His familiar hand placed itself lightly on his arse and Sherlock knelt down- obviously eye level with his quivering hole. His whole body jerked as a cold liquid dribbled down between his butt cheeks- oils? Lube? Saliva? He has no way of knowing, but Sherlock was massaging it gently into the soft pucker that was his entrance. He made a strangled noise at the first breach of Sherlock's finger, wiggling around until it slid in until the second knuckle. He pulled it out once, twice, then added a second. It was at this point that a tongue accompanied his fingers. He heard a distant moan and a slick, wet sound that wasn't his own and he realised the couple was getting off watching him being fingered. He nearly came then and there and that's when he felt Sherlock's fingers slide a bit of leather over his dick. A cock ring, just great. He wanted to sob in defeat, but that was when Sherlock nudged his prostate and his body seized in pleasure. Jesus, that was beautiful. He tried to move back into it but he was held fast by the ropes and cuffs.

"That's enough preparation. You two, stop fellating, he's ready. Here is your lubrication and condoms. I don't care that you're clean, only I may ejaculate inside him. Now get to it."

John would've laughed at the mocking, "Sir, yes, sir!" one of them called out if he didn't need a cock in his arse like yesterday.

He almost jumped when small hands landed on his hips in a soothing manner- he hadn't heard the person approaching- before feeling the head of a warm cock press against his opening. He let out a pleasure filled groan as the man slowly pushed into him, bottoming out rather quickly and holding still. John didn't know how he could inform him that he was quite ready, but it wasn't needed. Sherlock stated it was fine and John ended up going for a ride of his life. For small, soothing hands, this man was rough as hell. The speed was punishing, it was deep and hard and everything he needed. He hoped the person wouldn't last long, though, for he couldn't quite take this brutal pace.

"You're going to break him." A voice to his right whispered, "Slow down, he's not me."

"Apologies." The lilted voice replied before slowing down to a much more comfortable speed.

John's entire body was shaking by the time the person came, why did the guy who lasted the longest go first, he wondered, but he didn't have long to think when a longer and far thicker cock entered him slowly. The second one worked at a more subdued pace, but there was power in his body. His large hands dug almost painfully into his hips as the slammed into him, his breathing as erratic as his rhythm.

"He's not going to last long, he gets off on watching." The soft voice murmured to Sherlock, he assumed, and the voice was correct as he felt the pulse within him indicating that the man had, indeed, came.

"It's fine, my turn now. You two get comfy. Do not stain my chair! Sit on the couch!"

John would've chuckled, but he was suffering an extreme case of blue balls currently - he just wanted to come! He heard the rustling of clothes and realised Sherlock had been dressed this entire time. He felt the familiar warmth and length of Sherlock's dick press against his arse before a cool hand correct it's placement and he slid home. John whimpered, for while the strangers were wonderful, nothing could replace the feeling of someone you knew, trusted and loved.

"Did you want to come, John?" Sherlock whispered after a good five minutes of languid thrusting. John nodded, practically sobbing when Sherlock's deft hands slid over his hips to his aching cock and sliding off the ring. It only took one more slam to his prostate before he cried out, his dick pulsing as he ejaculated all over the frame of the table.

The tightness and watching John get throughly fucked frayed every last nerve Sherlock had and he came with a growl, his fingers digging into the fleshy hips.

Sherlock pulled out and immediately went about undoing John, worried in his own way to John's well being and if he liked his present. John sighed in relief as he stood up, not even caring that Sherlock's cum was sliding down his leg at this point.

"I will need to burn that couch." Sherlock lamented and John turned to follow his gaze to where the couple was all but fornicating on their couch.

John couldn't take his eyes off them and his penis started to twitch. Without thinking about it, he grabbed Sherlock by his hair and slammed his lips against his. As their lips moved against each other, John turned him so that Sherlock was leaning against the table.

John could still hear the other two over their own moans of pleasure. He pulled away from the kiss and pushed Sherlock face down onto the table. John used his saliva to wet Sherlock's hole, pushing a finger into him. He quickly added a second one, preparing him just enough not to hurt him. He removed his fingers before pushing into him, barely paying attention to the other two men.

John held onto Sherlock's waist as he moved inside him at a quick pace. It didn't take long for him to cum inside his partner.

Sherlock all but demanded that Dimitri and Jason leave. John went to the bathroom, starting the shower and stepping into the warm spray. He heard the bathroom door open.

"I won't be long." John told him. He came out a few minutes later and John went into the bedroom, laying down next to Sherlock.. He snuggled up next to Sherlock, resting his head lightly on Sherlock's pectoral.

"Thank you." He murmured before letting sleep claim him.