Having spent much of his life denying his body's needs, Sherlock was still surprised when he woke up aroused, aroused by John's mere presence in his bed.

"Mmmm," he murmured, face still pressed into the pillow, "fuck me now."

"What?"

"You heard what I said, no need to repeat it."

"Yes, but why?"

"Because I am highly aroused by your proximity in the morning and would like to be fucked. Now, preferably."

"It could just be a morning erection."

"Doesn't mean it wouldn't be fun to fuck it away. Don't tell me you don't want to."

"Of course I want to fuck you. There is seldom a time when I don't want to fuck you. There has seldom ever been a time when I didn't want to fuck you even before you started to let me…fuck you. I just…well, we were rather vigorous last night. I thought you might be…worn out."

"Nonsense. The human body is very adaptable; my own more than most. Anyway, I'm all…primed as it were. We can jump right in."

"Well…alrighty then…although as pillow talk that left something to be desired."

"Less talking then, please."

"Roll over."

"No. Like this."

"You still have to take off your pajamas!"

"Just pull the bottoms down. I don't need to take the t-shirt off for access."

"Again, this isn't really getting me in the mood."

"Looking at my bare arse will. Now, pull down my pajama bottoms and fuck me or I'm going back to sleep."

"I should just let you."

Sherlock didn't reply, just wiggled his hips.

"Dammit."

John slid his fingers beneath Sherlock's waistband and started to pull down. "Lift, please."

Obligingly Sherlock bent his knees to lift his hips and dropped them back down as soon as they were clear so that John could pull them the rest of the way off and drop them on the floor.

"Would you like a pillow?"

"That would probably be conducive to the position, yes."

"Fine. Lift."

Sherlock did and John worked the squishy, down-filled pillow under Sherlock's hips. "I'm not going to be able to reach your cock if you stay like that."

"I really am most highly aroused, John. Friction and the feeling of you inside me may well be enough."

"You certainly aren't showing it. How aroused you are. You might as well be asking me to hand you the remote."

"Do you have a remote?"

With a much put upon sigh, perhaps a bit exaggerated as he was going to get sex out of it himself, John dug around in the nightstand drawer to retrieve a condom and lubricant.

He started to lube his fingers.

"What's taking so long?"

"I'm getting ready to prepare you."

"Don't bother. I'm fine, I told you. Just go slowly at first."

"Do you mind if I take a little time. For myself?"

"If you must, but hurry. I want to come with you inside me and I might be too close for much extra stimulation."

"You really are a selfish prick, aren't you?"

"I never claimed otherwise."

"No, no you didn't."

John stripped quickly. He already had quite an impressive erection of his own, so he didn't actually need much, but he did like a little foreplay. So that he didn't feel quite so much like a sex toy.

Sherlock's grey t-shirt was rucked up. John placed tender kisses followed by long stripes with his tongue down Sherlock's spine. At last he got a little moan in response.

He kept kissing and licking down to the base of Sherlock's spine while running his hand along the backs and insides of Sherlock's thighs. It was only when Sherlock made a small desperate whine that he stopped.

Sherlock spread his legs as wide as he could in the position and tilted his bum up a little more.

John crawled between Sherlock's legs, rolled on the condom and slicked up his cock.

"Ready?"

"Very."

John pushed in, as slowly as he could, pausing at each increment until he was fully incased in Sherlock's tight warmth.

"Ahhhhh…" sighed Sherlock beneath him, face still turned into the pillows, but John could see the flush rising along Sherlock's neck.

John began to stroke gently and slowly. He would push in to the hilt, pressed tight against the firm curve of Sherlock's backside and hold himself there for a heartbeat, then slide almost all of the way out.

"More?"

"Ye—esss," Sherlock groaned, low and breathy, a sound that always made John a little harder no matter when he heard it; distracting in public, rather perfect now.

John started to thrust harder, pulling back just enough to slam back in with force. He was pushing in hard enough to move Sherlock's body closer to the headboard on each thrust.

"Ah, a bit, ah, forceful, John. Ah."

"I have to be, when you're being an insufferable twat. I thought you wanted friction."

"Urgg…yesss…I just, oh, don't want, ummm, don't want to, ahh, bump my head."

"Then brace yourself, because I'm not slowing down."

Sherlock reached up to push his hands against the headboard and hold himself in position. "Oh, God, I really am going to…you feel so, so good. You're so good, John. Unnnnhhh!"

John slowed as Sherlock's body stiffened beneath him and tightened around him, but didn't stop moving entirely. He watched the tremors move through Sherlock's body, picked up his own rhythm again-pushing even harder, riding the shockwaves of Sherlock's orgasm to his own.

"YES, oh, God, yes!" he cried as he came. A few more involuntary jerks of his hips and he collapsed across Sherlock's sweat damp back. He kissed Sherlock's neck and ran his fingers through Sherlock's moist hair.

"That what you wanted?"

"Most definitely, yes."

"Glad to oblige."

"I believe you also enjoyed it."

"Yes. Didn't say that I didn't."

"Could you…move the pillow now? It's sticky."

"Are you planning to do anything for yourself today, or just have me wait on you?"

"Maybe. I'm going back to sleep now."

"Do you want me to pull your pajama bottoms back on?"

"No, that's fine. I'll stay like this."

John sighed, cleaned himself up and pulled on his own pajamas. "Anything else I can get you? Coffee? Tea? Diamond tiara?"

But the only reply that he got was Sherlock's snuffly snores.