Watson clutched at his friend's shoulders, throwing his head back as Holmes found the sensitive skin of his neck, attacking Watson with a mess of lips... tongue and teeth.He ran his tongue down Watson's excited flesh. Watson pressed him closer, shuddering with pleasure as Sherlock nipped at the taut skin over his collar bone.The tightness between his legs began to throb, he pressed himself against Holmes. The sensation of Holmes's growing sex against his own made them groan in unison. A heated. When his mind sorted through to find relevant similes in his own tongue, he was angry. This was clearly some serf, how dare he speak in those tones to him! He was tempted to let his dogs go and take these woollies to teach the man a lesson. But he didn’t, he needed to know where he was to find if there was a way back.The stag had taken advantage of the confusion and distraction and had fled over hill and dale. He would be remarked by many a naturalist and not a few hunters and became a legend. More

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