Blown Glass

by: Vampira

Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Literally, in fact...

A/N: This is a true and total PWP, even moreso than my last one perhaps. If you don't like that, stop reading RIGHT NOW. If you go further, I will ignore any and all complaints about how there is too little plot.

A/N 2: This entered my mind when I was lost on Tumblr and someone noted that there were suggestive hand prints on the sitting room window positioned high above where their heads would be. So, really...this is all Tumblr's fault.

It was just dark enough outside that they could see each other clearly and easily as Sherlock pressed John up against the sitting room window, John's hands splayed above him and making obscene prints on the glass while the vampire was pressed up against him as firmly as was possible for two people to be.

Both the detective and the doctor were naked from the waist down, John's cock hard and pressed against his stomach, already beading with precum. His stance was wide as he was forced to learn forward. It was easier on them both, but especially on John, who could feel so vividly his lover's long, hard length pressing into and then out of him again.

"God Sherlock...please...let's move away from the window...people will see..." came the half-panted plea from the blond. But, even as he begged to be allowed to move away from the window, he loved the thrill of knowing that it was so dark outside and so light in the room that anyone could accidentally look up and see them, snap a picture perhaps, sell it to a newspaper or a tabloid.

The thought made John harder and he couldn't stop the moan that escaped him at just the thought of getting caught.

Sherlock's arms tighten around John possessively, stubbornly, one hand moving down a bit further to grip firmly at John's thigh, giving a more forceful thrust into his friend, his lover, his mate, this time.

"No..." was the only verbal answer that John received, accompanied by a growl that sent a pronounced shiver down the former soldier's spine and a moan so loud that it bordered on the obscene.

Sherlock's eyes met John's in the reflection of the glass, the color of quicksilver, as he gave a dark, suggestive smirk, grazing his fangs lightly along John's shoulder. Not enough to break the skin, but enough to give a titillating sharp burning sensation that caused the shorter man's breath to catch his throat as he watched and felt.

The move backward to complement Sherlock's thrusting hips was instinctive, as John cried out in a wordless, almost loud, moan of the detective's name. The blush that came at the realization that the sound had come from him went all the way to the rounded tips of his ears.

Their movements became less rhythmic after that, neither of them able to control themselves as well at this point, more arduous. Their breathing came quicker, heavier, to the point that with each breath they both nearly begged the other for release, Sherlock's hand traveling away from John's thigh and the first set of fang marks he'd ever made on the blond man, instead to move to neglected cock and begin to stroke.

The vampire was sure that his lover hadn't noticed, but he could hear and feel that their heartbeats were so close in frenzied time that they may as well have been from one heart.

John looked into the reflection again, seeing Sherlock's and watching with anxious anticipation as his lover parted his full lips wider, revealing the long, thin fangs that the doctor knew would bring both of them to a far more heightened orgasm than they'd otherwise achieve. His cock twitched and leaked at the awareness.

Unfortunately, fate wasn't on their side tonight as suddenly the door opened without any warning whatsoever and Mrs Hudson bustled into the room, causing both men to stop mid-movement and Sherlock to shut his mouth and hide those gorgeous fangs.

"Boys, sorry to trouble you at this hour but I've only just remembered that you forgot to pick up your mail earlier and I thought-" Mrs Hudson's voice was cheery as usual, until she realized what she'd walked in on and her voice immediately choked off.

"O-oh...oh my...I..I'm very sorry! I'll...I'll just be going, don't let me interrupt!" she called, flustered, as she hurriedly left the room, the door slamming on her way out.

John and Sherlock both stare at each other's reflection in the window. The vampire's silence was stoic, while the former army doctor's was stunned and wide-eyed, though both were still panting heavily.

"At least I'm wearing my coat..." came the husky, yet velvety, tone of the detective's voice.

End