Oh right, it’s that time of the week again. Here, have this bit from the beginning of the thing what I am almost done with. I don’t think I’ve shared it before, have I?
Sherlock’s hand continues to stroke possessively over John’s back. When at last it sweeps lower to cup his buttocks, John shivers and twists a hand into the sheets. “Nnnn, no more.” His arse smarts from the night’s bouts of coupling, and his wrung out muscles threaten to turn to rock in the cold. He’s already doomed to live out the day with the ghost of Sherlock’s cock throbbing inside him.
The prince’s quiet laugh vibrates through John’s rib cage, but he relents, reaching instead to gently untangle John’s fingers from the linens.
For the record, this should end up being about 7500 words of historical AU smut.