Sherlock leaned back against the couch, flopping backwards with the effort of thrusting upwards, against gravity, into John.

He was still inside the man, his cock quickly softening when there was a loud knock at the door.

"Bloody buggering fuck." There was no way whoever was there couldn't have heard something, they had literally just finished.

And even worse, there was no way not to make the entire place not look and smell like sex.

But hey, atleast it killed the last of his erection in one quick move.

Sherlock gently but firmly pulled out, and pushed John off his lap and to the side. He stood up and tied his robe back around himself, then threw one of Mrs Hudson's knitted Afghan throws over John's lap. She was going to kill them both if she ever found out they got thier essences all over it.

He grabbed his wallet and opened the door, quickly paying the somewhat stunned looking man, and giving him a huge tip, hoping it would keep him quiet. A moment later, he closed the door again and turned back to John, food in hand and a terrible smile on his face.

"Well." He said, still slightly breathless. "That was... interesting."