ihadabadday | Into the Night - AU - Locked to seaweed

"Good boy." Sherlock shoved the plug in again and wiggled it around, then he pulled it out, all the way this time.

Since John was already nice an open, and well lubed between what he had slathered on the plug and his cum inside his hole, Sherlock pushed right inside. The plug wasn't quite as wide as him, so he stretched John a bit, but not much, as he slid smoothly inside until his bollocks slapped up against John's arse.

"Oh, you are such a good boy, all open and stretched for your master, aren't you? "

John thought he was going to lose it. The way Sherlock was fucking him with the plug. It made him squirm and gasp and beg. The way the widest part stretched him. Oh, was John Watson a size queen?

He cried out when Sherlock started to push in. Oh that felt good. Wonderful. He groaned when Sherlock bottomed out. Fuck. Fuck.

"Yes'sir. I'll keep the plug in me for as long as you want me to."

"As much as I would love to keep this plug in you all the time, I am going to need to take it out from time to time for a...refill." He chuckled darkly. "Like... right now."

As soon as he finished saying it, he started moving inside of John, not even bothering to build up- he went straight into rogering John hard and fast.

"Nng.. such a good little fucktoy... You better not come before me!" He said in time with his thrusts.

John cried out. It was intense. Sherlock... Pounding into him, taking him over and over. He gasped and claws at the bed.

The sensation of that thick cock using him. Of being nothing more than a toy. He was just a fucktoy.

Since he had already came twice before that evening, it didn't take him long to come to his end.

"Ahhhh... nnnnngg!!!!" Sherlock pounded John under him through the orgasm.. There wasn't much left to give when it came to his seed, but he still enjoyed the feeling of the intense pleasure, riding the waves until they finally ebbed.

Even though there hadn't been much in the way of come for that last orgasm. he still pulled his cock out and immediately pushed the plug back inside, then left John leaning over the bed while the collapsed down on it, thoroughly drained, literally and figuratively. He had no more to give tonight.

John remained bent over the bed. His own cock was hard and dripping. But he wasn't going to come, he wasn't going to move. No. Not without Sherlock's command, approval.

He felt the man pull out and then push the plug back into him. A cry escaped him. Everything felt like it could trigger him. But he didn't want to disobey Sherlock.

Sherlock hadn't forgotten about John, but he was exhausted from all of their activities tonight. Apparently he needed to work on his stamina, but that would be a fun exercise.

Finally, he managed to sit up. "Roll over onto your back, my good little boy. You took it so well, letting me fuck you more than once tonight. Does my poor little thing need to come?" The tone was a bit mocking, but there was a bit of softness in it as well. He really did appreciate how well John had done tonight.

John rolled onto his back, keeping his hips at the edge of the bed. He turned his head to look at Sherlock. He seemed a little dazed, needing to reach his own release. He shifted and squirmed on the bed, making small aborted noises.

He was a needy thing and seemed so desperate.

Sherlock frowned. "I asked you a question, little fucktoy. Now use your words. Do you need to come? If you don't answer me, I'll leave you here like you are. "

"I do sir..." He answered. John hoped his slight did not anger Sherlock. He wanted to be able to come tonight, to get some relief.

He bit his lip and squirmed a bit, feeling the plug move inside him.

Sherlock was silent. He moved until he was hovering over John. He reached down and started to move the plug in and out again, listening as it was making a satisfying slurping noise as it moved around the come and lube that covered John's insides.

"I wanna see if I can make you come without even touching you." he said, shifting the angle of the plug so that it would brush against his prostate. "Can you do that for me? Can you be a good little toy and come all over yourself for me without me touching you?"

John tensed and gasped as he felt the plug move. And move and move. It was rubbing over and over against the bundle of nerves that was his prostate.

And...

And...

He cried out as he reached his climax, unable to stop it, not wanting to stop it.

Sherlock watched with a broad smile as John shot up to his chest, then the rest covered his stomach, a long trail of his come striping his body.

"Mmm... Good boy." He continued to push the plug in and out even after the orgasm was done, milking every last bit out of the man. Finally the pushed it back in hard with a shove.

"You were so good. Do you feel better now?" He asked with a grin.

John was trembling from the effects of his orgasm and Sherlock pounding that plug into him. He sobbed and nodded.

"I do. Thank you sir." His entire being seemed to relax and droop a little. Sherlock had worn him out.

Immediately, he dropped out of his dom head space and adopted a much softer tone. He got up and went to the loo, coming back a moment later with a wet flannel. As much as it was tempting to let him wear that to bed, it would feel awful soon, and it would get all over his sheets.

He cleaned John up, then himself, tossing the flannel in the bin. "Come on, Let's get you into bed." He gently helped John onto the bed and under the covers. " Get some rest. I'll come back to bed soon." He was worn out from earlier but his mind was still racing. He needed time to come down and relax before he would be able to sleep himself.

John was asleep the moment he curled up on the bed. He looked content in the bed, relaxed and at ease.

He slept through the night, nightmares not plaguing him for the first time in ages.

Sherlock watched him for a few minutes, then went into the living room and opened up his laptop. It was hours later, in the wee hours of the morning, when he finally shut the laptop and crawled into bed. John was so deep in sleep, he hardly even shifted.
Sherlock wrapped and arm protectively around him, and was in a deep, restful slumber in just a few minutes.

John woke close to dawn, as had been his habit for many years. He rubbed his face and then shifted to get out of the bed. He looked at the sleeping Sherlock and smiled. He kissed his head before going into the bathroom to use the loo and wash his face. Upon exiting, he found his pants and donned them before going to the kitchen to see about breakfast.

Sherlock stirred a bit when he felt a kiss upon his head, but he quickly fell back asleep, and was out for another almost hour before his bladder screamed at him that it was time to get up.
He didn't bother putting on any clothes, he used the loo and did a quick tooth scrubbing, then wrapped the bed sheet around him and walked into the hallway, where the smell of breakfast led him to the kitchen. He rubbed his eyes sleepily with the back of his hand.

"You're up early." He said. "Do you...er.. have a job that you go to? Or was the club your job?" He realized that he didn't even know a simple thing like that about John.

John looked up and smiled at Sherlock. "Water for tea is warm and your breakfast is in the oven to keep warm." He answered before taking a sip of his tea.

"The bar was my job. After I quit, I saw some clients here and there. Private practice always brings in more money."

Tea first, Sherlock decided. He needed some caffeine. He made himself a nice strong cup, with plenty of sugar, and then pulled the plate out of the oven, sitting down at his kitchen table.

"I didn't even know I had all these ingredients in my house." He admitted, taking a bite and a sip. He was a bachelor, and never actually made much of anything. "Did I have all of this, or did you go shopping?"

John watched and smiled at him. "I went out and got it. Figured we both needed a decent meal after last night." He pointed out.

He finished his tea and then got up to make himself another cup. The scars along his body could be seen better in the light of the day.

Sherlock stopped in mid bite, his fork still wavering in the air in front of him. He reached out, touching John as he brushed past to get more tea.

"What.. happened?" He asked in a low, almost breathy whisper.

John paused and looked at Sherlock. "I was a soldier. I suffer PTSD..." He said, "My time in Afghanistan was not a happy one."

Sherlock put his fork down and stood up, not caring that his sheet was falling off of him.
He stood in front of John and leaned down, kissing the site of the wound, gently, layering soft kisses and lightest of licks upon it.

"My brave, brave soldier." He said softly, giving it one more kiss before looking into John's eyes. He knew the man wouldn't want to talk about it, and he would never pry. He may open up about it in the future, and if he did, Sherlock would be ready to listen. But for now, he hoped that this was enough.

Into the Night - AU - Locked to seaweed_writes

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