"It says here 2 eggs." John read off his computer.
"Okay." Sherlock says, his head in the fridge.
John and Sherlock were making a chocolate birthday cake for Mrs. Hudson. Since they didn't know what present she would want, they decided to make a birthday cake.
Sherlock returns, holding 2 eggs in hand. John takes them and cracks one, emptying it into the bowl. Then the same to the other. He tries to not get eggshells in it. This is the first either of the boys have ever made a cake.
"Anything else?" Sherlock asks into John's ear. John finds himself leaning back slowly, not aware he's doing so. As John's back connects with Sherlock, he gives a gasp, the same time John sighs and closes his eyes. Sherlock hooks his fingers in John's front pockets. "Is there anything else?" Sherlock asks again, whispering into John's ear so close he starts to gently nibble on John's earlobe.
John snaps his eyes open and straightens. He looks at the recipe on his laptop, aware that Sherlock's hands are now in John's pockets. He tries to concentrate as he starts to blush.
"You horny bastard." John breathed. "Ah!" John gets yanked back, losing his footing, and is now in Sherlock's embrace.
Sherlock takes his hands out of John's pockets and moves them up, across John's chest. He licks the side of John's neck. "But you like it," Sherlock purred, licking his ear. "Admit it." Sherlock gropes John's fast-growing erection.
"Sherlock. . ." John moans.
John feels the vibration of Sherlock's "Hmmm. . .?" as he starts to turn John around to face him.
"We. . .have to. . .ah!" John says as Sherlock sucks John's sensitive spot on his neck.
Sherlock licks up toward John's ear. "What do we need to do? I know something." Sherlock faces John and fiercely kisses his mouth, grabbing John's hips and pulling him forward, so John can feel Sherlock's bulge, and he can feel his.
Sherlock gives out a moan.
John grabs Sherlock's shoulders and detaches himself from him. "S-stop."
Sherlock gives him a smirk and returns to be behind John, tracing his fingers on John's sides.
John tries not to notice as he wakes his computer up, scanning the ingredients. "Let's see: flour, baking soda, eggs, sugar, milk, salt, vegetable oil, water, cocoa. . .yes, we have everything. Go preheat the oven to 350F while I mix.
Sherlock does as he says, making John's back cold. John picks up the whisk next to the bowl and starts stirring, making sure to get everything mixed.
John feels a hand grab his arse and he jumps, almost letting the whisk fall to the floor.
"Jumpy, are we?" Sherlock whispers, his warm breath on John's neck.
"Oh, shut up." John says as Sherlock moves his shirt so he can kiss the exposed skin on his shoulder, the one with the bullet wound. "Sh-Sherlock. . ."
"Shh, John. Don't you like it? Sherlock says as his hand moves to John's nipple. John quietly whimpers as Sherlock's hand travels down his navel and he gently grips John's erection, which is getting harder and harder.
John gasps. "C-come on, Sherlock. We're almost d-done." They just have to put it in the oven.
Sherlock slowly moves his hand away, obvious to the fact that he's rubbing John, making him moan. "Tease" John murmurs.
He hears Sherlock give a low chuckle as he moves next to John, dipping his finger in the mix and bringing it to his mouth, slowly licking it while he stares at John, whose mesmerized by his lips. John licks his lips as he watches Sherlock slowly get closer and closer, until they're breathing the same air.
Sherlock gets close enough that he sticks out his tongue and licks John's lips.
John can taste the cake batter as he opens his mouth for Sherlock and his tongue slides in. John takes hold of Sherlock's neck in one hand, the other in his perfect, lush curls.
Sherlock lets out one of his deep, delicious moans and John's pants all of a sudden get too tight to hold back his erection.
His knees are about to buckle as they break for air. Sherlock smiles. He takes John's hips and presses him on the counter. He moves the bowl and a few ingredients to the side and lift John up so he's sitting on the counter. Now they're level to level when they kiss.
Sherlock opens John's legs so he can get closer. His hands travel up John's thighs and he grabs his waist, pulling him closer. Bringing his mouth to John's. Sherlock's hands go under John's striped jumper, and he pushes it up, his hands roaming John's back.
John starts to clumsily unbutton Sherlock's purple shirt. When he has it opened, his hands roam Sherlock's chest, unsure where they should stay. He ends up taking his nipple in one hand, the other on his hip. He gives the nipple a squeeze and gently twists.
Sherlock moans into his mouth and John is sure he can't take it anymore. His erection is throbbing in his pants, begging to be free. He moves his hands to Sherlock's shoulders, letting his nails dig into flesh and cloth as Sherlock starts kissing his jaw and throat. "Sh. . .Sherlock. Ah!" Sherlock bites John's neck, making John dig his nails in harder.
Sherlock looks at John, pulling him even closer so their erections rub against each other, separated by their jeans.
They're panting. Sherlock puts one of his hands down to John's hips, his other goes to the cake batter and he dips his index finger into it again. He brings it up to John's mouth and is about to spread it on his lips when John opens his mouth and starts to suck his finger. Sherlock gives a gasp, surprised; then he moans, closing his eyes.
John's eyes were already closed. He brings his hands to grab Sherlock's arm, bringing Sherlock's finger in and out of his mouth.
John finally pulls Sherlock's finger out of his mouth and opens his eyes, seeing Sherlock staring back.
John scoots off the counter, careful not to land on Sherlock's feet. Sherlock has moved back a little, but his hands were still on John's waist.
John turns around, grabbing the cake pan. Sherlock helps him pour the batter in, and John lets Sherlock lick the whisk, only to be under Sherlock's spell and stare at him as he brings his tongue over the whisk.
After John puts it in the oven, he sets the timer. He sets it down once it's done and he immediately feels his shirt coming off. He lifts his arms automatically. When he turns around, he sees Sherlock, without his shirt on, throwing John's to the side.
Sherlock grabs John's dog tags around his throat and pulls him toward Sherlock into a needy kiss. John moans into Sherlock's mouth, feeling Sherlock's need for him.
They somehow made it to Sherlock's room, never letting the other's lips from their own the whole way, and clumsily trying to get the other's pants off.
John closed the door. Sherlock gets John's pants off first and they're yanked down, showing John's red underwear with white lining.
Sherlock smirks, "Those suit you quite nice."
After John takes off his shoes and pants, he gets Sherlock's button undone and looks down at his underwear; the ones Sherlock bought him the week before.
John gives him a chuckle, "The underwear, or my bulge?" He whispers, pulling Sherlock's pants down.
Sherlock's smile widens, "Both."
He hooks his fingers in John's underwear and pushes him onto the bed so he's on his back. Sherlock takes his pants off, but leaves his blue converse on. He crawls over him, kissing his skin on the way. He stops at his nipple, slowly sucking at it.
John puts one of his hands in Sherlock's hair, the other one bunching up the bed sheets.
As Sherlock bites into his nipple, John gives out a loud moan.
Sherlock starts licking John's chest. "I want to taste all of you." He moves up and gets to John's sensitive spot on his neck. He licks it, then starts to suck, making John moan and dig his nail in Sherlock's hair and shoulder.
He moves to nip his ear, "I want to fuck all of you." Sherlock muttered as he grinds his penis against John's; making him whimper.
He crawls back down John's body and stares at the red pants in front of his face. They're already stained with pre-cum. Sherlock licks the pants and feels John tremble. "Sher. . ." But that's all Sherlock can understand since he pulls down the pants to John's ankles and moves to go under John's legs. His legs are hooked over Sherlock's shoulders and he's licking off John's pre-cum.
John is amazed at his mouth, not able to take his eyes off them. He watches as Sherlock wraps his lips around the head and his tongue seems to be everywhere.
Sherlock is too mesmerized to take his eyes off the rest of John's penis. He closes his eye as he takes hold of John's balls, John moaning, only making Sherlock harder.
Sherlock stokes John's penis in his mouth, making John arch his hips up, lodging it in Sherlock's mouth.
He slides his mouth off and John growls. Sherlock looks up toward John's face, seeing it red and sweaty with a look of deep lust. Sherlock gives his spectacular penis a long, slow lick up the shaft, addicted to it already.
Sherlock pushes his own grey briefs down to his converse, which he always wears. He crawls back up to meet John's lips in a passionate kiss.
Sherlock hears a distant ringing. He breaks from John's lips. "John. . ."
"It'll stop in a minute, we'll get it later." And with that, he pulled Sherlock ontop of him, burying his hands in Sherlock's curls.
Sherlock started kissing his jaw. "Sherlock. . .just fu-fuck me already."
He didn't need another invitation. He grabbed the lube from the side table and quickly spread it onto his hand, then continuing onto his and John's penises. He moved his hand down to John's hole. He slowly stuck his middle finger in John and heard him moan loudly. Sherlock started to circle it around, teasing him. "Sh-Sherlock, now!" Sherlock smiles at his impatience John.
He pulled out, only for John to hiss at him. Sherlock quickly put his cock inside him, as gently as he could.
They've never needed to use condoms; since he was John's and John was his. It makes the sex feel better, anyway.
John moaned, wrapping his legs around Sherlock and pulling him forward.
They both made grunts as Sherlock continued his thrusts, putting more and more force into them.
John would cry out whenever Sherlock hit his prostate; which was quite often. Sherlock watched John, his hands digging into the bedsheets, his face red, his body slick and with sweat, him panting, and the wanting, the needing in his eyes.
"Sh.-Sherlock. . .I'm gonna c-co-" He was cut off as Sherlock yanked his dog tags and John's lips were crushed by Sherlock's. John dug one of his hands into Sherlock's shoulders, the other pulling his hair, almost hurting Sherlock, but not enough to drown out the pleasure he was in.
As they moaned into each other's mouths, Sherlock gripped John's penis and started stroking, in the same rhythm as he was doing to John's arse.
Sherlock could feel he was close; oh, so very close. He went faster and harder, with short and quick movements.
"Oh. Sherlock! Ah!" John came, on both of their chests, and from John's very loud moans
Sherlock came close after him, in him, while clawing John's back, shouting out, "John!"
John loosened his legs, and they both fell onto the bed; legs tangled, arms around each other, kissing each other deeply, but lazily. They brought up one of the thin sheets on the bed and wiped their chests clean.
John sniffed. "Is something burning?" He looked at Sherlock. They scrambled up, trying to get out of the bed; but Johns underwear were tangled in Sherlock's and they both fell back onto the bed.
They started laughing while untangling each other. They pulled up their underwear and left the room, both walking a little off and both still panting because of the sex.
Sherlock found his pants and yanked them on; John found his and did the same. Sherlock found his shirt and started to put it on while John grabbed his from the floor.
Sherlock went to open all the windows as John got the burnt cake out of the smoking oven. He threw the cake, with the pan, in the trash. There was no way he was going to try and the cake out of that pan.
John sat on the couch, followed by Sherlock sitting right next to him. John started to laugh; Sherlock looked at him, but after a moment, joined in.
As it died down, John said, "We should have just gotten her a scarf."
"Yes. Do you think we can do it now? Do we have time?"
John looked at Sherlock, "As long as we don't end up having sex in the bathroom."
Sherlock grabbed John's hand in his, "There's no promise."
And with that, they left.