Jumpers
It had been a normal enough day for John Watson, the flat had still been there when he had woken up (never a certainty) he'd left without a row and done an easy shift at the surgery, even if Sherlock did text him incessantly.
'Shops? Why, what do you need?"
'I doubt they sell animal heads in Tesco, Sherlock'
'Takeaway? That I can do, I'll pick it up on my way home.'
'No, Chinese'
'Well tough, it's my turn to pick, remember? Find that wine out I won't be long.'
All in all John was feeling rather cheery as he walked back to their flat, bag full of double helpings of their favourites swinging along at his side. He responded to Sherlock's messaged requests to 'hurry up' and 'I'm wasting away' with various smiley faces, knowing they would only serve to wind him up more. The answering response to 'fall under a bus. SH' was followed up rather quickly by a 'sorry...' then a rather obvious cover of, 'would be an awful shame to waste all that food.' John grinned, pocketing his phone as he rounded onto Baker St, speeding up as he spotted their flat.
And that's how they got to where they were now. Sherlock slumped across the sofa with John leaning up by his head, the floor scattered with mostly empty food containers and definitely empty wine bottles, and the telly blaring the most rubbish show they could find. John was particularly engrossed as a young woman quite frankly murdered Celine Dion when he noticed Sherlock looking at him. Or rather, glancing between him and the telly. After a full fifteen minutes of this, and some god awful singing, John sighed deeply and turned to face Sherlock.
"Alright, what is it?"
"Hmm? Nothing."
Sherlock looked to him again, and John noticed his gaze fall to his chest before he caught himself and looked away.
Oh.
John smirked to himself, and raised his arms, stretching out over the sofa with his arms barely missing Sherlock's head. Sherlock flinched, and shifted awkwardly on the sofa.
"Something wrong, Sherlock?"
"You're wearing it again," he answered quietly, eyes glued to the telly, "I thought we discussed this."
John smiled down at his stomach, and his favourite jumper covering it. He ran a hand over the blue and white stripes before looking up at Sherlock, his head snapping away but a slight flush started to form on his cheeks. "Do you have a problem with the way I dress, Sherlock?"
"Of course not."
"Oh really, because it seems like you do. Or at least, a problem with my jumper."
"Don't be ridiculous."
John smiled, "At least I can breathe in this."
Sherlock sighed, glancing over at him, "What on Earth are you talking about?"
"Not like those second skins you call a shirt. How are your buttons today by the way? Holding on okay?"
Sherlock smiled despite himself, slipping off the sofa to sit next to John, shoulders bumping together as he joined him on the floor.
"They're fine, I'm more concerned with the pensioner you stole your wardrobe from. He must be awfully cold."
John grinned, happy to be slipping back into their usual routine. When Sherlock didn't have a case his mood could go one of two ways, and John much preferred the one where he was happy, their bellies were full and they were ribbing each other mercilessly.
"I'm sure he's fine, but you could always lend him your coat. That's far much coat for one man."
Sherlock's eyes narrowed and he turned on John, "Oh I'm sure he'd much prefer his jumpers back, John. He's bound to be missing them."
"Oh but you would miss them so much more wouldn't you, you love my jumpers."
In that moment Sherlock's eyes darkened over, John barely getting a breath before Sherlock pulled him close, hands bunching up in his jumper as he pushed his face into John's shoulder, delighting in the feel of the soft cotton against his face before he lifted his head and preceded to kiss John thoroughly. John groaned into the assault on his mouth, opening his mouth eagerly to Sherlock's tongue and giving back just as much as he was getting. His hands moved to grip Sherlock's shoulders as he felt Sherlock press up against him, leaning backwards with the force.
John sighed as he fell back, Sherlock moving over him as he straddled him to the floor. He bent to kiss John again, opening John's mouth with his tongue as he slid his hands down John's jumper. A growl rumbled through his throat as he gripped the soft material, dipping his fingers under the edge and siding his hands underneath and slowly up and over John's chest.
"You really need to get over this obsession with my jumpers."
Sherlock smiled against John's mouth, "like you have with my hair, you mean?" he muttered as he felt John's hand creep up to his head. The hand gave a hard tug and Sherlock snarled, letting John pull his head back for a moment before pushing his hands up and giving Johns nipples a hard tweak. John gasped and his hand slipped from Sherlock's head, grabbing hold of his arms.
John groaned as Sherlock's hand dipped to his trousers, stroking John purposely while keeping on hand rubbing a circle on his jumper.
"Sherlock, ugh Sherlock bed, we have to get to a bed."
"Don't fancy doing it here then?"
John bucked his hips up, bumping his crotch against Sherlock's, "alright fine, point taken," Sherlock stood up, pulling John up by his arms and hustling him off to his bedroom.
He pushed John onto the bed, barely thinking to kick the door shut before joining him a second later and dipping to kiss him hard. He undid John's trousers, pushing them down off his legs, John pulled at Sherlock's shirt, fingers trailing across the tight buttons before haphazardly undoing them and letting Sherlock tug it off. His hands fell to Sherlock's trousers next and he fell back onto the bed, quickly removing them before returning to John as he started to pull up his jumper.
"Leave it," Sherlock growled, gripping hard at the material.
"What?"
"Leave it on."
John felt a shudder run through him at the tone in Sherlock's voice, "are you crazy?" Sherlock didn't look at him, hand starting to rub Johns stomach through his jumper, "you really are obsessed,"
"I can't help what turns me on, John," he flicked his gaze back up to John's, "and these jumpers. Or rather you wearing these jumpers. your body beneath them, really turns me on."
John groaned, cock giving a solid twitch that didn't go unnoticed by Sherlock. He raised an eyebrow as he glanced down, looking back up at John with a smirk. "looks like I'm not the only one."
John huffed, shoving Sherlock then grabbing his arms and pulling him close into a kiss. They rolled together on the bed, hands running and grabbing at every inch of exposed skin, John's hands moved to grab at Sherlock's boxers, clinging to them as they were pulled out of place, revealing the start of the dark fuzz that led down to Sherlock's cock. Sherlock wriggled free of John's hands for long enough to get his boxers off, quickly tugging John's off too before leaning over him. John pulled awkwardly at his jumper, "this is really weird."
Sherlock smiled, "I think it's amazing, very arousing."
John huffed, flush pinking his cheeks, "you can't just say hot like a normal person can you?"
Sherlock grinned, "normal was never part of the attraction for you."
"True enough."
Sherlock dipped to kiss him firmly, before shifting over to reach under the pillow, searching for the lube and condoms he knew he kept stashed there.
"Told you it'd be better keeping them there."
John rolled his eyes at Sherlock's triumphant smirk, "well done. You're a genius, now would you get on with it?"
John sighed as Sherlock took his time with the lube, for some reason feeling more exposed then ever wearing just his jumper, trying to resist the urge to pull it down over himself. Sherlock noticed his discomfort and moved back to him, pecking a kiss to his lips before settling between his legs, pulling them up around his waist.
"Are we forgoing the romance this time then? Pity."
He grinned down at John, "we can spend an hour professing our love if you'd rather?"
John's groin twinged horribly, "No you're right. This is better."
Sherlock grinned and quickly prepared John, taking the time to find that spot inside him that made John throw his head back and cry out.
He pushed at Sherlock's shoulder, "Yep, ready..."
"You're so impatient, John," Sherlock removed his fingers and quickly prepared himself before tugging John close.
"Okay?"
John nodded, "come on..."
Sherlock gave him a moment, waiting until John opened his mouth to complain to push inside him. The complaint was lost on a strangled moan, John's head falling back. Sherlock didn't waste any time, settling quickly into a swift pace, thrusts increasing more as he found the perfect angle, John's moans and mumbled words spurring him on.
John's cries got louder, feeling his stomach tighten with the onset of his orgasm. He reached out a hand, Sherlock leaning closer to him as fingers touched his cheek, John pushing himself up to meet Sherlock awkwardly, mouths pushing together in a sloppy but passionate kiss. Sherlock shifted his grip on John's legs, gripping one tightly as he laid his other hand back on John's stomach, fingers tangling in the soft and now damp fabric as he chased the forming threads of his own release. John groaned, tightening his legs around Sherlock to try and draw him in deeper, his breath deep and ragged as he tried to hang on. Sherlock thrust harder, John's jumper rumpling up as it slid up his sweat drenched chest, Sherlock's grip faltering as he tried in vain to keep his pace.
"Sherlock...ugh, close..."
Sherlock nodded, gripping hard at John's jumper as his thrusts became erratic, all but slamming his hips against John as his arousal fought for it's completion. John managed to untangle his fingers from the sheets, slipping one down to wrap it around his cock, whining deeply at the feeling, Sherlock groaned at the sight.
"Close..." John swallowed hard, "can't last much longer."
"Me either."
Sherlock let go of John's jumper to take a hold of his hips, matching his thrusts to John's tugs on himself. One well timed thrust and John was coming, head thrown back as his hand moved rapidly, drawing every last feeling out. The sight drove Sherlock over, and he followed John down, hips smacking freely as he rode his orgasm out inside John.
He gasped breathlessly, enough coherency remaining to pull out of John carefully before collapsing next to him on the bed. He forced himself off it to dispose of the condom in the bin before returning to John as he sat up long enough to pull his now soaked and filthy jumper over his head. He pulled a disgusted face as his head reappeared, Sherlock raised an eyebrow at the mess on their stomachs.
"You might as well."
John frowned horribly, but wiped them clean with his jumper before throwing it as far from the bed as he could manage, falling back and gesturing for Sherlock to join him. Sherlock crawled up the bed, dropping kisses along John's stomach and chest before lying down next to him, nipping lightly at his neck before curling up around him.
John sighed happily, feeling sleep creeping up on his senses.
"I must say John..." Sherlock's gruff voice smoothed over him, even more beautiful when tinged with left over lust, "...I never thought you'd go for that."
John wasn't even surprised, "and how long had you been thinking of that, exactly?"
Sherlock smiled, eyes closed as he pushed his face into John's shoulder, "since I first saw you wearing it."
John grinned, shifting on the bed to tug the covers up to their waists, pushing limbs that were too long around until they were wrapped around his own. He bumped his nose against Sherlock's, his eyes opened and he smiled to see John facing him, pressing a kiss to his lips.
John yawned softly, "well I'm glad you got that out of your system."
"Mm? Whys that?"
"Because we're never doing it again."
Sherlock frowned, the effect lost somewhat by his sleepy eyes, "why not?"
"Sherlock I love you, but you're not worth ruining all my jumpers for."
Sherlock grinned, accepting the kiss from John before he snuggled down against Sherlock's chest, "love you too, John."
He lay for a moment before adding as an afterthought, "I could always just buy you new jumpers?"
He heard a snort against his chest, "go to sleep, you fool."
Sherlock smiled, kissing John's hair before tucking him under his chin, closing his eyes to sleep.