Another scream ripped from John. The pain, the pleasure. He was teetering on the edge, even with the pressure against his cock.

He could feel his magic racing to heal, to repair. But it was overridden by the sheer pleasure. By Sherlock ravaging him.

His mind played imagines as he was ruthlessly fucked. Sherlock keeping him chained and stuffed full, Sherlock using shadows to stuff his holes full, making him wither and trash. He wanted it all. Every depraved thought. His mind played to some of the odd porn old platoon mates had showed him for a lark.