Sherlock snorted. He wasn't a sadist like Sherlock was. He didn't have the fortitude to kidnap a mortal and then fuck them against their will. He had heard the man's Blood Whisper years before. He cared for others, not himself.

Human weakness.

He slumped back in his throne, trying not to think about John, how his face reddened when he got pissed off, how his muscles tensed, his hands balled in tight fists.

"Augghhhh!" Sherlock shot lightning across the room, like he did when he was pissed. Cerberus looked up, gave his master a look for waking him, then went back to sleep.

He was able to ignore John for five minutes before he used his scrying crystal on the man.

Ah, he was in the shower and he....

"Ohhhh."