Author's Note:

Some reviews! They make me happy! Thank you so much!

That noise from Sherlock's mouth was beautiful. A giggle. John turned when most of the lube was off of his chest and took a step forward, slipping on the floor of the shower and slamming into Sherlock's chest with a grunt. Right. The lube was probably still on the floor. He groaned and tried to get traction with his bare feet, failing and pressing even heavier into his husband.

"Oh shit." Sherlock hadn't been ready to support John when the other man slipped into him. He slid backward as well, but came to a stop because of the wall. At least he hadn't hit his head again. That wouldn't have been good. He wrapped his arms around his husband to help support John. "You all right?" He looked down at his partner, giving him a once over to make sure no kind of damage had been done.

"Yeah, yeah." John nodded against Sherlock's chest and smiled slightly. "Sorry." He relaxed slightly against his husband. That could have ended horribly. The fact that they were that close to the wall in the massive shower was very lucky. "That was...yeah, sorry." He grinned and met Sherlock's lips in a quick kiss. He had nearly killed his husband. He needed to be more careful.

Sherlock leaned down and kissed the top of John's head. "It is fine. We are both okay." For once something hadn't gone terribly wrong when the opportunity had presented itself. Maybe their luck was finally changing. Except…he didn't believe in luck or anything really for that matter. "While we are shopping we should get those stickers that give traction to the bottom of showers, just in case." If fate existed, he didn't want to tempt it.

"Right, of course." John grinned. "You know, in cause we ever feel like smearing lube all over ourselves again and taking a shower." He laughed eagerly and reached to his right to grab some shampoo, pouring it into his hand before scrubbing it into his husband's hair. Showering with Sherlock was possibly one of his favorite things. It was hardly sexual but more of something that he figured most normal couples did.

"Well, if we are going to shag in here at some point, better to be safe than sorry." Sherlock smirked down at John. He leaned his head down, so his husband would be able to reach the top of his head easier. His eyes closed in contentment, enjoying the feeling of John's fingers on his scalp. Showering with his husband was always nice.

"That is probably on our list next, isn't it?" John smirked and scratched at his husband's scalp. "I mean, we broke the bed. Shower would seem logical. Except..." He placed a quick kiss on Sherlock's temple. "I wouldn't mind shagging in front of a fire. You know, in the fire place," he whispered with a mischievous grin. He yawned, turning away from Sherlock so he wouldn't see it.

"We can shag wherever you want to. It is your day after all. There are all kinds of places and things to try on the list still." Sherlock smirked down at John once more and then moved them carefully so the water could rinse out his soapy head, blinking away the droplets that got near his eyes.

"Will you be able to do anything tonight?" John asked softly, looking between them as he suggestively raised an eyebrow. "I mean, collectively, we broke a bed. We might be shagged out and I only have until midnight," he whispered with wide eyes, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

"I don't know. Maybe. We can try at least." Sherlock bent down and placed another kiss on John's head. He reached for the shampoo, squirted some in his hand and then began applying it to his husband's scalp gently. He scratched lightly at the skin under John's hair, massaging the suds into his partner's head.

"That is good." John closed his eyes and relaxed against his husband, his arms hanging limply at his sides. "You have the most wonderful hands in the history of the world," he muttered with a groan of contentment. He could live with this for the rest of his life. Massages and getting his hair washed and wonderful shags. Marrying Sherlock was the greatest decision of his entire life.

"Of course I do. How many times do I have to remind you that I am perfect and amazing? Clearly this applies to all things related to me." The smirk returned to Sherlock's lips. Once John's head was soaped to his liking, he moved a bit so the water could spray on his husband. He grabbed the conditioner next and went to work on John's scalp once more.

John relaxed against Sherlock and pressed his head up into his husband's hands. "Your ego doesn't even fit in this shower," he muttered with a smirk. He should have assumed that Sherlock would say that. "Don't care, you are amazing," he added with a happy grin. Having moments like this with his husband was wonderful.

Sherlock smirked. "I don't think it would fit in this entire beach house." He finished applying the conditioner to John's head and then moved so water could rinse the suds away. He grabbed the bar of soap next and began to lather up his husband's entire body. When it came to time to clean John's face, he did it slowly and careful. He didn't want to get the soap in his husband's eyes or mouth.

John kept his eyes closed and rested his hands on Sherlock's hips. No talking. It wouldn't do good to get soap in his mouth. They had just shagged but, to Hell with it, he reached between them and gave Sherlock's penis a soft tug. Might as well entertain himself while his husband cleaned him.

Sherlock wasn't expecting John to do that and he squirmed into the touch with a soft whimper. The wall was still there to support him, so he didn't slip too much. He did however drop the soap but he didn't care. He leaned into his husband's touch, the majority of the water now spraying onto his back. Which left John still lathered in suds for the most part.

John grinned. Wonderful. He leaned forward and opened his mouth against Sherlock's neck, starting to suck on it with a loud exhale through his nose. He wanted to mark his husband like Sherlock did to him. He gave his husband's cock another tug and sucked against his neck with some more force.

Another whimper escaped his lips. His penis was still rather sensitive and the tugging on it made his body squirm even more. Sherlock tilted his head up for John, the back of his head resting on the wall. He wrapped his arms around his husband to help hold the other man in place and to draw John a little closer to him.

John took advantage of more of Sherlock's neck and moved his mouth up slightly to start another mark on his husband's neck. He tugged at Sherlock's cock for a third time, his tongue running across his husband's skin as he pressed tightly against his body. "Like that?" He asked softly.

On the third tug Sherlock pressed his lower torso into John's hand as much as he could. He was extremely turned on right now, his husband pressing him into a wall and teasing the hell out of him. However, once again nothing could be done about it but he didn't want it to end. "Yes. Don't stop. Please?" He didn't mind begging, not when everything was feeling so wonderful.

Sherlock begging. That was something he would never tire of. Nobody else got to hear his husband do it, that was personal and all his. "God, yes." He moved his mouth to the other side of Sherlock's neck and moaned into it. This was perfect and wonderful and John wanted to be in control more often.

Sherlock continued to press and squirm into John, his eyes slipping closed. He ran his fingertips along his husband's back lightly. "Don't stop," he repeated quietly. John liked it when begged and it usually got him what he wanted. So it served as a dual purpose. As much as he was enjoying this, it made him wonder why he didn't let his husband have control more often. Maybe it was because it didn't happen often that made him appreciate it so much when it did happen.

"God, I love when you beg," John moaned slightly and pressed into his husband. Hearing Sherlock do something like this was amazing. He did it because he knew John liked it. "Not going to stop. Sherlock." He dropped his mouth to Sherlock's collarbone and nipped at it.

Sherlock couldn't help but smirk and be cocky. "I know." God, he was going to be a writhing mess by the time John was done with him and it would be glorious. Going to the village just didn't matter to him now. He could stay in the shower with his husband all day and he would be perfectly fine with that.

John squeezed Sherlock's penis slightly before dropping it, pressing his husband harder against the wall. "God, I want to shag you into this wall now, make you scream and say my name." He nipped at the underside of Sherlock's jaw. "Say my name," he growled.

Oh God, Sherlock loved it when John got rough and demanding. He really wished he was capable of shagging because he wanted to take his husband here and now. "John, please. Love you. Love this side of you," he admitted breathily out as his intakes and outtakes of air became faster and little threadier, as his excitement grew.

"Do you now?" John grinned mischievously and moved his hand to tug at Sherlock's hair. "Tell me how much you love it," he whispered roughly. "God, I love this." He pressed Sherlock harder into the wall with a grunt. Never in his life did he think his military attitude would ever work on somebody in such a sexual way.

This was getting out of hand, in all the right ways. It was fantastic, and Sherlock didn't want it to ever end. "Oh God yes. Love when you are in control and telling me what to do, when you are demanding and rough. Christ, I want to fuck you right now or you me. It doesn't matter, I just want to shag." He whimpered at the thought, desperate now to get an erection.

"So desperate," John whispered hotly against Sherlock's neck. "I want to take you in this shower and have you scream." He lifted his head and met his husband's gaze, panting slightly and scratching his fingernails down Sherlock's chest. "I know you want me to pound into you." He pushed a hand up and pushed at his husband's cheek, turning Sherlock's head and pressing it against the shower wall.

"Yes, p-please, yes." Sherlock practically never stumbled over his words but John was making it extremely difficult to think clearly at all. His breathing continued to become laborious, even though they weren't really doing anything right now. Just his husband being aggressive like this was enough to throw him into a worked up frenzy of desire.

Now all John had to do was get hard. He pressed Sherlock's head harder against the wall and reached between them. His fingers were slick with water, it should be enough. His hand moved behind his husband and he slowly pushed one finger into Sherlock's entrance. "Keep talking," he demanded with a nip to Sherlock's neck.

Sherlock moaned when John's finger entered. Keep talking? It was getting harder and harder to focus on anything except how amazing everything was. His husband being aggressive and now inside of him, it was almost all too much. With effort he managed to say something. "Feels good, John. Oh God, please don't stop."

John hooked his finger and pressed his body against his husband. "That's good." He slowly pulled his finger out and quickly pushed it forward. "Yes. God," he growled as he slowly worked his second finger in. "What do you want? Tell me, Sherlock. Tell me." He moved his hand from his husband's face and tugged at Sherlock's hair. "Wish I could shag you."

"Want y-you," Sherlock gasped out with a moan. John was in charge but he couldn't help but buck into his husband's fingers, moaning again, louder this time. It was hard to control the movements of his body when lust was coursing through his body like this. "Want you bad, please?" He didn't care how needy and desperate he sounded right now, because he was. "I want you inside of me," he whimpered out.

John grabbed his own cock, stroking himself and trying to get hard. "Fuck." He dropped his head and slowed the fingers inside of his husband. "Ah, trying." He moved his fingers as far into Sherlock as he could, biting down on his husband's shoulder. "God. Want to shag you."

Sherlock let out a throaty growling moan, enjoying every sensation his body was experiencing at the moment. He pushed into John's fingers again, this time a little more aggressively. He was panting now, small whimpers escaping his lips from time to time. Oh no. The water was starting to get cold. That wasn't going to help his husband at all. How long had they been here?

John turned and yanked the water faucet to hot, turning back to Sherlock with a snarl. God, he was getting frustrated. This needed to happen and right now it wasn't. His hand started moving faster and he pulled Sherlock's hair again. "Touch yourself," he muttered.

This shouldn't have been such a turn on for him but it was. Sherlock had never wanted John so bad before. He growled in excitement from his hair being pulled and then complied with his husband's request by stroking himself. Like John he wasn't getting hard but not from lack of trying.

Not working. Not working at all. John let his hand slide from Sherlock's hair and sighed. "Tonight," he muttered. "When we sleep in front of a fire." He pulled his fingers from his husband and collapsed on Sherlock's. Fuck, he had wanted that.

Sherlock supported John with ease. Damn it, he had really wanted to shag but it just didn't work out. "Yes, tonight. I can't wait." He kissed the top of his husband's head. "Perhaps we should get out of the shower now, yeah?" He smirked into John's hair, but didn't move from his spot. He didn't really want to, even though his fingers and toes were all wrinkled now.

John just groaned into Sherlock's chest, his eyes slipping closed. All of that power was exhausting, really. He didn't know how Sherlock did it. They should have been moving but Sherlock supporting him, their closeness, it was perfect. "I dunno," he muttered finally, a small shiver running down his body as the cool air started to sneak into the shower. God, why couldn't he just stay in his husband's arms for the rest of his life?

Sherlock held John in place with one arm, and reached behind him with the other to turn off the water. Once the spray stopped falling on them, he wrapped his arm back around his husband. He rubbed his hands up and down John's arm, trying to warm the other man up some. "Come on. Let's get you some clothes and get you warmed up my dear doctor." He kissed the top of his husband's head again and finally led them both out of the shower.

John followed Sherlock without a second thought, frowning at their bed. Curling under the blankets sounded wonderful right now. "Nest. Want it in the living room," he grumbled a bit like a child, grabbing every blanket and pillow he could. Sod clothes. He trekked into the living room, stopped right in front of the fire place, and went to work laying everything he had down. "Grab the rest," he shouted as he fell into the mess of blankets and pillows and curled into them eagerly.

Sherlock raised his eyebrows as he watched John for a moment. He went to the lien closet and got fresh blankets and took an armful. "See, told you we had extra sheets and blankets." He smirked at his husband and dropped the bundle near John. He walked over to the couch and grabbed the pillows from it. He plopped down next to his husband, curling into his partner immediately. He covered them with a bunch of the blankets, curling it up to their necks. His nose pressed into John's back, arms wrapped around his husband to help draw John closer to him.

John relaxed almost instantly and pressed back against Sherlock with a grin. "Mmm, good," he muttered as he pressed his face into all of the blankets. This entire day of control was turning out to be rather wonderful. With his husband pressed back against him, he could hardly ask for anything better. "I love you," he whispered as he moved an arm to rest on top of Sherlock's, his fingers scratching at the back of his husband's hand gently. He figured he could very easily fall asleep like this.

"I love you too," Sherlock murmured into John's neck. This was nice and relaxing. He wasn't tired but he was relaxed. He let his eyes close in contentment, giving his husband soft kisses along the neck and upper back. This was much better than having to go shopping. He didn't want to leave the rest of the day.

John shivered again at the feel of his husband's lips on his back and neck, sighing contently. God, this was wonderful. "Can we do this at the flat?" He asked softly, his words slowly slurring together. "Lay in front of the fire place, shag." He tried to force his eyes open but he was slowly failing. Sleep. God, he wanted to sleep. That sounded fantastic. "'M tired," he whispered.

"Sure, that would be nice." Sherlock continued his gentle kisses along John's skin. "Then sleep my dear doctor. I will be here when you wake up." He snuggled into his husband further, so as to help John relax and hopefully not have any nightmares. "I love you," he said again. Maybe he would nap as well. This was all so relaxing.

John didn't need to hear that a second time. He pressed back against his husband and slipped off to sleep almost instantly. Every dream he had was peaceful and when he woke up he grinned. Well, a nest of blankets and Sherlock wrapped around him. He shifted into all of their blankets a bit more before exhaling loudly. He had no idea how long he had been asleep but the living room was a bit darker.

Sherlock had fallen asleep as well. When John shifted he woke up slowly with a small groan. "Hey," he muttered sleepily. That was atypical. He didn't usually sleep like that. Usually only a few hours at time, but it seemed he had slept longer than that this time around. He stretched a bit, groaning again. "Fell asleep too it seems."

"I know," John muttered into the blankets. Honestly, he could have slept longer but he knew he needed to stay awake and do something. They couldn't just sleep their honeymoon away. "I could feel your breathing even out after a bit, woke me up before I got used to it." He pressed his back against Sherlock's chest with a small sigh. "Cold."

Cold? They had every blanket in the house on them right now. He was rather warm, perfect really. Oh. Sherlock hadn't realized it, but when he was sleeping he had bundled them all against him. "Sorry." He threw some blankets over John and snuggled into his husband some more, to help warm his partner up.

John giggled and let himself shiver slightly. "Bloody blanket hog," he muttered as he pressed back into Sherlock. "Do you have any wood for a fire? Want to shag you in front of a fire." He turned his head and tried to meet his husband's gaze. It was his day, after all. He wanted to take Sherlock on the floor.

"It is a gas fireplace. There are special logs already in place. All you have to do is turn it on." Sherlock resumed placing soft kisses on John's neck, as he pressed their bodies together as close as possible. "The lube is in the bedroom." He didn't want to get up yet, and he wasn't sure if his husband was ready yet. For now, he stayed close to John enjoying the shared warmth.

If they were going to shag, which John knew they would, that would mean getting up. He hummed slightly but didn't move. Right now he would rather stay with his husband and let him keep doing everything he was. It was too nice to pull away from. "Want you to lay on your stomach when I take you," he whispered. "That alright?"

"Of course it is. We will do whatever you want." Sherlock continued to shower John's neck with light little kisses. It would probably be better that way, considering the pounding he had taken this morning. He was still a bit sore and a different angle would certainly make a difference. His body squirmed at the thought of being shagged in a new position.

"Okay. Not going to move yet," John muttered with a small smile even though Sherlock couldn't see it. "Like laying here with you." He grinned and pressed back into Sherlock's body, moving his legs to tangle with his husband's. It was such a tough choice. Lay here and snuggle or get up to get what they would need. He was having some trouble with that choice. "How are you doing?"

Sherlock smirked. Not moving sounded wonderful to him. "Yes, laying here with you nice." Maybe they could spend a real whole day just snuggling like this. He had come to find that he quite enjoyed it. It was one of those pleasant surprises. "Hm? Oh. Still a bit sore but I am fine my dear doctor." He went back to kissing John's neck.

John grinned and sighed at the wonderful feeling of his husband's lips on his neck and back. "If you never stopped doing that I would be happy," he stated softly. "Please stay," he said. He didn't know if he meant now or for the rest of the rest of their lives but he felt the need to say it. "Never leave."

The smirk turned into a soft smile. Sherlock shifted, so he could continue the kisses but moving down along John's spine. "Love you. I will never leave you. Forever and ever, I am here and yours." He moved back up, still placing kisses as he went. He shifted again, so he could nibble on his husband's ear lobe lightly.

It made John laugh that Sherlock claimed he didn't know the meaning of foreplay. The man could practically write a bloody book on how to seduce him. He sighed and moved a hand to rest on his husband's upper thigh, his fingers curling to sink his nails slightly into Sherlock's skin. "Good," he muttered because apparently he could no longer form coherent sentences.

The smirk returned, pleased by John's response. Sherlock growled slightly from his husband digging his fingers into his skin. God, if he was in control right now he would crawl over John, straddle him and take him here and now. Oh yeah, they still needed to get some kind of lubrication. He pressed into his husband, trying to ignore his pulsating erection. Shit. He really wanted John right now.

Oh. That was definitely Sherlock's erection. In that moment John suddenly wanted his husband, wanted to feel him and now. Damn lube. He pressed back against his husband's cock and moaned slightly. "Changed my mind," he whispered as he dug his nails harder into Sherlock's skin. "Want you." It was little things like Sherlock being soft and gentle that turned John on.

At John's words, Sherlock practically leapt to his feet. Well, he would have if he hadn't gotten tangled in all the sheets. He managed not to fall but he growled his frustration as he tried to shake sheets off his long limbs. He all but ran to the bedroom and he grabbed a bottle of lubrication at random, not bothering to read the label. He dropped the bottle next to John, and bent to flick the switch to the fireplace. It came to life with a gentle flicker. He laid down next to his husband, so they were almost nose to nose. Patient. Usually he would have started applying the lube but he wasn't sure if John wanted to make out or anything else before shagging.

The sudden loss of warmth made John's eyes rip open and he managed to catch the end of Sherlock untangling himself before smiling. Apparently his husband was just as eager as him. He grinned when Sherlock was next to him, reaching a hand out and running it slowly along his husband's side as his eyes followed it. "Slow," he told his husband quietly. "Slow and gentle," he leaned forward to gently meet Sherlock's lips.

Slow and gentle. He could manage that…hopefully. Sherlock was feeling rather worked up and excited. He took a breath to help calm himself down. He moved in to kiss John. With his husband in control, his partner should have started it but if he wanted to have self control he needed to start things slow and easy. When their lips met, he let John control it.

They were snogging in front of a fire. John grinned slightly against Sherlock's lips before pulling away. "I am going to lay on my stomach," he whispered, his eyes still closed. "Want you on top of me." He reached between them to grab his husband's penis, giving it a small squeeze. "Want you to talk. To tell me what you see, how it feels." He nipped at Sherlock's bottom lip. "And how bad you want to pound into me."

Sherlock nodded, certain as much as he wanted to shag John right now he would have agreed to anything. He whimpered from his husband's touch, his body leaning into the touch a bit. He scrambled to get the bottle of lubrication and when he opened it the smell of strawberry met his nose. While he waited for John to roll over, he smeared the lube on his cock.

John opened his eyes to glance between them, watching Sherlock's movements as his pupils dilated. "God." He turned quickly on to his stomach, his legs spreading slightly. "And pull my hair. Bite my spine," he practically hissed, lifting his blue eyes to his husband. "Please, Sherlock. Please," he begged like a child.

Sherlock raised his eyebrows slightly, a smirk tugging at his lips. John wanted slow and gentle but also hair pulling and biting? That was going to take considerable concentration on his part and he wasn't sure he would be able to if he was going to be talking as well. It was his husband's day though, so he was determined to comply with the demands even if they were a bit conflicting.

John kept his gaze locked intently on Sherlock. God, he wanted this so bad. How could he just sit there and smirk and stroke his cock? "Now," he stated fiercely, taking a deep breath. "God, now. Please, I need this." Because his dreams had been pleasant but he did remember one where he lost Sherlock, where he was stupid and his husband left. "Please," he whispered brokenly, lifting his ass slightly in the air.

Oh right. Sherlock had been trying to piece together how to fit in all of John's requests he had almost forgotten he was supposed to be shagging his husband. He moved to straddle John, and prepped his husband for a few moments. Shit. Now he was suddenly nervous. He was never nervous during sex and now he doubted his ability to comply but he had to at least try. Hopefully he wouldn't mess this up. He entered John slowly with a moan, a hand moving to his husband's hair and pulling slightly. Vocal. He needed to say something. "Oh God," he uttered out as he began a slow pace.

"Ah." John pressed slightly against Sherlock's hips, pulling his lips back as he clenched his teeth. The angle was almost perfect, he could feel Sherlock hitting his prostate and- "Fuck," he whimpered and fisted his hands into the blankets, biting down on the pillow beneath his head with a moan. He yanked his head forward to pull his hair a bit more and arched into Sherlock's thrusts.

Shagging John had never required so much effort before. Sherlock managed to maintain a slow pace and he tugged a little harder on his husband's hair. Wasn't he supposed to be doing something else? Biting. Right. He leaned down and began biting John's back. In between nips he spoke, "Love being inside of you." Hopefully this was doing it for his husband because it was most certainly not working for him. Too many things going on at once and not in the good way.

"Yes. Yes," John's voice squeaked slightly around the pillow, his eyes slammed shut as he took in hard, shaky breaths. "Fuck," he shouted as he pressed his face into the pillow. "Please. God." He managed to calm himself. He pulled away from the pillow. "One hard thrust," he said heavily, looking at Sherlock over his shoulder. Being so commanding earlier had been helpful to his husband. Why not try it now?

Well, at least John was enjoying this. Sherlock was far distracted to derive any real pleasure at the moment. He complied with request, thrusting into his husband roughly with a grunt of exertion. He continued to bite and pull with force. It was tempting to keep that pace but he made himself resume the slow and steady pace he had initially started. He still needed to say something. "You feel so good right now." He wasn't sure how long he would be able to maintain this. He was worried his erection wouldn't keep at this rate.

The rough thrust scooted him up slightly on the blanket beneath him. That had felt good. "Fuck me," he growled. God, he had wanted slow when the slow kisses had spread across his back and neck. After that, after hearing Sherlock grunt, he wanted it hard. "Now. Fuck me." He snapped as his fingers wrapped tighter into the blanket and he bit the pillow again.

Oh thank God. Sherlock could do that and actually enjoy it to boot. He began a hard and rough pace, with a growl and no hesitation. He bit down into John's shoulder blade with a snarl, lust completely consuming him at this point. He yanked at his husband's hair hard enough to pull the head up off the pillow.

John kept the pillow between his teeth, pulling it up with him when Sherlock pulled his head up. He moaned loudly and clamped his eyes shut, his arms straightening at his side and locking as his husband's thrusts pushed him up the blanket. The feeling of his body being pushed helped his erection slightly and he couldn't help but squirm slightly. And the bite on his shoulder was positively wonderful. "H-Harde-" His voice caught in his throat as he let out a scream and pressed back into Sherlock.

Sherlock slammed into John as hard and as fast as possible now, moaning loudly into his husband's shoulder as he continued to bite at it. With the pace he was going, he had to drop his hand from John's hair to the ground to help support himself. He didn't want his momentum to topple him over because that wouldn't do at all.

John should have complained that suddenly his hair wasn't being pulled but the feeling of Sherlock pounding into him, of the blanket running across his stomach as he was forced up the floor with each thrust, was too much. He whimpered into the pillow, letting it fall from his mouth as he panted and grunted into the open living room. At some point he had certainly lost control of the situation but he didn't care. His husband was doing just fine. "Y-Yes, Sherlock."

Sherlock came with a loud moan and he bit down excitedly into John's other shoulder. He began nibbling on the same spot, breathing heavily. He slid out of his husband, sliding off to the side a bit, but continued to gnaw on the skin between his teeth. He brought a hand up to scratch harshly at John's back. Even though he had climaxed, he hadn't come down from his lustful high.

John relaxed slightly into the blankets, letting Sherlock scratch and bite at him as he tried to figure out what had just happened. He felt like he had been shagged into the floor. The rough movements hadn't even gotten him off completely. "Fuck," he whispered. His entire body hurt. Bite marks, the scratches...God, Sherlock must have felt horrible earlier in the day after they had broken the headboard.

Sherlock finally calmed down, and the biting and scratching gradually died away. When clarity eventually hit him he muttered an apology. "You okay?" Shit, he hadn't meant to be so rough but he had been so sexual frustrated at the beginning he had completely lost it there at the end. He rolled onto his back, still trying to get his breathing under control.

John didn't think he was okay. He nodded anyway, pressing his face into the pillow. That had been...scary? It felt like Sherlock had lost control, honestly. Like John no longer had a choice in the matter. Granted, he had stuttered out 'harder' but he didn't think it entailed what had happened near the end. He had felt helpless. "Fine," he whispered, turning his head and forcing a smile in his husband's direction.