John was thinking about him while he stroked himself off.
Sherlock leaned forward, staring at the crystal from just centimeters away, studying every bit of the man, permanently memorizing how the expression on his face changed as he moved his hand up and down, the type of movement he used on the upstroke and downstroke, the way that his eyes canted over to the plug, the one that had held his own seed what seemed like only moments before, though it had been years now.
Without even thinking about it, Sherlock had reached under his robe and taken himself in hand. He used the same movements that John did, stroking himself in time. His eyes thinned, his whole body thrummed with need.
"John." He murmured, almost a whisper on the wind.
no subject
Fuck.
John was thinking about him while he stroked himself off.
Sherlock leaned forward, staring at the crystal from just centimeters away, studying every bit of the man, permanently memorizing how the expression on his face changed as he moved his hand up and down, the type of movement he used on the upstroke and downstroke, the way that his eyes canted over to the plug, the one that had held his own seed what seemed like only moments before, though it had been years now.
Without even thinking about it, Sherlock had reached under his robe and taken himself in hand. He used the same movements that John did, stroking himself in time. His eyes thinned, his whole body thrummed with need.
"John." He murmured, almost a whisper on the wind.