"Sometime," Watson promised, his voice breathy and hoarse. "When you're not expecting it. Perhaps your birthday."

He scraped his teeth along Holmes's shoulders, light enough to not make a mark, wishing it were possible to bite down and leave some sign of ownership, as juvenile as that was.

It was unwise, but good God he felt tempted to.

He increased his pace, just a little, and his hips bucked up against Holmes's back, trying to get some sort of friction against his own cock.