When he fucks John, Sherlock praises him to the skies, about how beautiful he is and what a good job he’s doing and how clever he is, because Sherlock’s got a praise kink the size of Mt. Everest and he figures that if he’d like it, it’ll probably make John happy.
(What actually happens is that John’s eyes water and he forgets how to breathe, because Sherlock saying such nice things about him is about as stunning as a club to the head. It’s so weird he can’t even figure out if he likes it.)
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