Sherlock hadn't exactly planned on how long he was going to make John wear the plug. He hadn't really intended for it to be until next winter, almost 9 months away. If he did that, then he wouldn't get to fuck him between now and then. And while he had waited years between the first and second, now that he knew he could get it more, he didn't intend to wait that long again.
But perhaps he would have to.
Sherlock found himself leaning into the touch- it was gentle, almost lover like. But they weren't lovers. They weren't friends. He wasn't sure what they were. 'Fuck buddies' was a term the mortals in the Overworld used. That might have been the closest term he could think of.
He didn't really respond, only giving him a half-hearted nod. His brain was alight with thoughts. Who was this former John Watson to him, anyways? What did John want them to be? Despite everything, here he is, being almost tender to him.
He had never gotten that before, he had no idea how to react.
no subject
But perhaps he would have to.
Sherlock found himself leaning into the touch- it was gentle, almost lover like. But they weren't lovers. They weren't friends. He wasn't sure what they were. 'Fuck buddies' was a term the mortals in the Overworld used. That might have been the closest term he could think of.
He didn't really respond, only giving him a half-hearted nod. His brain was alight with thoughts. Who was this former John Watson to him, anyways? What did John want them to be? Despite everything, here he is, being almost tender to him.
He had never gotten that before, he had no idea how to react.