John was a mess. He was a trembling, needy mess. He ached and ached. He wanted it all. He sobbed and shifted a bit. The feeling of Sherlock touching him, licking him.

He whined and cried out when he felt that hand stroke. Oh god. He felt like he was going to go off at a moment. Fuck. Fuck. Oh fuck. He was trembling, his body teetering on that edge.