I needed to write, and this little bit of fluff came out of nowhere. I haven't written fan fiction in a while and never for Sherlock. I am welcome to any comments anyone has as I am sure my writing style has changed wince the last time I posted anything(under a different account). Maybe I will leave this open to write more, but for right now I just needed to get this out of my system.
"Finally?" he asked with such a hint of surprise that one would only notice it if they really knew him.
"Yes, I'll tell you the whole story if you will listen and accept it as mine and as my past," he responded to the older man next to him.
"Sherlock, there has been no doubt in my mind that I would ever say anything but yes to a request like that from you." He had never seen the detective look so broken as he did at this moment. He had to let him talk. Sherlock was finally letting him into his past, into the darkness that he had to live through. He would be here to listen to it all.
The brunette nodded and started his story, or at least his version of a story. "The only reason I am alive is that somebody was there to help me through the hell that is my life. One person was able to see the intelligence and hope I had buried long ago under the insanity and habits. I hope they realize how much they have done for me. I have something to live for now because they were willing, and still are willing, to help one broken person."
"Him?" They both knew whom he was talking about, but for some reason, it needed to be said.
Sherlock nodded his head and continued, " of course, no matter how much I don't want to admit it, he knew about the lowest moments of my life. He was actually the one to me up out of the gutters himself and gave me a new start. He saw how I gave the last thing I held onto just to escape this world and my demons, just to feel the rush one more time. I have successfully blocked out these memories for many years because of you. Because now I am safe and that has no spot in my life, but I guess some scars never truly heal over. I'm assuming you understand the outcome of he words, but here they are anyways. You know about the addiction, the cocaine, and how it brought me to the streets, hanging on by a thread, but in the beginning, I didn't understand the system in place there. The currency is different when you have nothing. Money is nice, but most people want 'favors.' I never let anyone push me all the way. Besides no one ever really cares that much, well until one did. He shoved me into one of the many dark corners and took from me the only thing I had left. I was so desperate as I took a hit and he pounded into me that it didn't even register at the time. Now, more than anything, I wish he hadn't taken my last shred of life because now I feel like I have nothing left to give you. There isn't anything that I can give you for the first time."
By the end of the whole story, Sherlock was hanging his head and his voice was barely a whisper. This was really another side of him that John knew existed but never really asked to see because he knew just how painful it would be to get out of the younger man.
John pulled the detective up to his side on the bed. They had finally given up fighting the idea that they weren't attracted to each other and just gave in. John had been the one to finally break down and admit that their friendship was more than just a friendship. Sherlock had been shocked that John broke the homeostasis that was their not-so-very platonic relationship but just nodded in agreement. They both knew that something needed to change or one of them was going to explode. That sentence slipped out of out John's mouth a little over a month ago, and there was no looking back. John had migrated his bedroom into Sherlock's almost immediately after they had admitted that they were attracted to each other. Now they spent most of their nights talking and getting to know each other on a deeper level. They hadn't had sex yet because both men had some demons hidden in their past that both wanted to work through together.
As Sherlock wrapped his arms around John, the older man continued, "Please don't ever feel like you have nothing left to give me because you have given me so much already. From the very beginning, you gave me a place to call home not just a physical place to live, but also an emotional place to finally feel safe after Afghanistan. You showed me that love isn't black or white. It has so many facets that I could not even begin to imagine before you. You have given me a while new outlook. You have given me everything, and I am just leaning how to repay you."
A bewildered look spread across Sherlock's face as he tilted his head up to look at John, "I haven't given you anything but hell."
"Oh Sherlock, you cannot even imagine the life you have given me. I was bouncing from woman to woman and was never truly happy just simply trying to get off. You have no idea how empty I was before you finally let me in to your world." John was beginning to wonder if Sherlock even understood that he wasn't the only broken one in the flat. "Really, you have an amazing mind, but sometimes you can be so ignorant."
At that, Sherlock chuckled and looked John straight in the eyes, "I'm ignorant? Thanks for making me feel safe. Maybe I take back all I just said."
"Oh sod off. You are such a jerk sometimes," laughed John as he pulled the detective just a little bit tighter. John lowered the volume and intensity of his voice again. He needed to ask one more thing. "So you really aren't a virgin? Even after all of that teasing and taunting from Mycroft?"
John could hear Sherlock breathe out a little heavier, but he nodded his head in acknowledgment, "Mycroft knows how I really lost my virginity, but we try not to acknowledge it because in my mind, I am still a virgin. I was strung out, and he used me so I could get a fix. I do not remember much of it except it was very painful, and it turned me off of sex for a long time. I had only ever gotten anywhere close to intimate one other time in my life. That is why Mycroft, and I, still calls me a virgin. I wish I was because that was the biggest mistake of my life."
John heard the tremble in the deep voice and leaned down to press a gentle kiss to the other man's forehead. Sherlock tilted his head up so he could meet John for a proper kiss. This was his favorite part of their whole relationship. Just lying with John and letting the world melt away.
John pulled away for a second. He had to say one more thing before this conversation was over. "I am so glad you told me what happened, but I hope that you won't let your past hold you back. I am willing to show you that this all shouldn't be painful. You do know I have never been with another man anyways, so it will be new for both of us. We will explore this together."
The smile that spread across Sherlock's face said it all. He finally felt safe. He finally felt like he could trust someone again. He felt like he could trust someone enough to finally let a relationship grow. "John, I want to be with you. I want to. I really do, but for once I do not know what I am doing. Can I say that I want to have sex with you and not let it sound like a line from some crap telly?"
"Oh it does sound like a line from some shitty show, but that is okay. Nothing is normal between us anyways," responded the doctor. This was really a new type of relationship for him. Even with Sherlock being a man, something felt different about this. Something felt better.
Sherlock closed to small gap that was between them and captured John in a kiss that conveyed every emotion his words could not. He had never been good at expressing emotions with words. He much preferred actions. In accord with that idea, he pushed John all the way back and deepened the kiss.
Before either of them was ready to stop, their circulatory systems were screaming for more oxygen, so Sherlock moved down to John's neck. Tonight he wanted to mark him. He wanted to make sure that when they showed up to a crime scene this week, Lestrade would role his eyes and try to ignore the obvious fact that he was Sherlock's.
As Sherlock was busy with John's neck, his hands moved to remove the horribly outdated jumper that John had been wearing that day. He disengaged John's neck long enough to move the jumper over his head and through it on to the floor beside their bed. Sherlock slowly moved down John's chest as his hands traced a path across the scarred skin. He knew most of the stories, but there were still some secrets in John's past that Sherlock had yet to uncover.
John lay below the younger man as he moved his long fingers across his chest. John had always marveled at how delicate yet strong they looked. As they moved passed his belly button, John pulled Sherlock back up for another kiss as his hands worked to undo the buttons on the shirt covering the pale detective above him. He eventually worked all the buttons free just as both men were requiring a little more oxygen than they were getting at the time.
They pulled apart as both men reached for the other's belt and trouser buckles. Both pairs of trousers were on the floor in a matter of seconds. Sherlock reached for John's hair and pulled him close again. John took the momentary distraction to flip Sherlock onto his back and straddle the detective. John could feel a slight gasp come from Sherlock as he processed what was happening. John wiggled down onto the bulge that he was now positioned directly over. That small gasp that he has just heard come out of his favorite consulting detective was quickly becoming a moan as there were only two thin layers of fabric separating them.
John moved down Sherlock's body until he reached the band holding the offending fabric in place. He hooked his fingers underneath and slowly moved them down Sherlock's legs while completely ignoring the erection the sprung free. He loved teasing Sherlock like this because it was one of the few times he could have the upper hand.
After John flung the fabric out of the way, he kissed a line up Sherlock's leg all the way back up to those beautiful lips completely bypassing the erection that stood in the way. He captured Sherlock for another kiss when he felt those violinist fingers work down his back and pull his pants off of his body as well. They were both finally free from the last physical restrictions between the two of them.
John moved his hands back down Sherlock's body and finally lightly grasped the younger man's cock. He only teased him for a moment before Sherlock got antsy and started moving his hips to make the friction of the soldier's hand more effective. John laughed into the detective underneath him and tightened his grip.
After only a few strokes, he removed his hand and shimmied down the glorious body beneath him again. This time he took as much of Sherlock in his mouth as he could. The sizable cock was a problem the first time he attempted this, but now he had learned how to please his favorite genius without choking.
He bobbed up and down as Sherlock slowly lost control of his precious mind and gave himself over to his physical reactions. He wasn't thinking anymore. He was living in the moment and trusting the man who sat between his legs.
Before long, Sherlock pulled John up by the hair for another quick kiss and looked him in the eye. "I want you. Please help me replace my one memory of this."
"Are you sure? I don't want to do anything to make you uncomfortable," responded the doctor.
"I am sure," responded Sherlock. Tonight he would finally stop referring to himself as too damaged. He would finally stop referring to himself as a damaged virgin.
John smiled and nodded as he reached over to the bedside table and pulled out some lube. He quickly returned his mouth to Sherlock's cock as the younger man gasped. He worked his way up and back down the pale member as he popped open the small tube in his hands. He prepped a few digits and looked back up to Sherlock who was simply laying with his eyes closed trying to focus on every nerve response his brain was processing.
John took that as a sign to continue, so he worked one finger around the tight ring of muscles that blocked him. He continued working Sherlock's cock while his ignored one begged for attention.
As the muscles relaxed, he worked in a second finger and tried to coax Sherlock to relax. He has to make sure the detective was as relaxed as possible as to cause as little pain as he could.
He dared to look up at Sherlock and was surprised when he met a pair of smoldering eyes. There was no more pain, no more hidden memories behind those eyes. It was simply happiness he saw looking back at him. That made him happier than anything else could.
The hand that wasn't currently occupied within the detective reached down to slick up his own erection that had been left ignored up until then. He groaned a little as he finally felt some friction on his own member.
He released Sherlock's cock and looked up at him again. "Are you sure?" whispered John. This was more for his own good than the detective's. He was far too gone to comprehend any serious questions now.
John simply got a grunt in return, so he moved himself closer to Sherlock's entrance and put his hands on his lean hips. He pushed forward just enough to start to push passed the tight ring of muscles as he heard a slight his from his dark-haired boyfriend. He sat still for a moment until Sherlock was the one who tried to move. John took that as his signal to continue and slowly pushed all the way in. When he was there, he looked at Sherlock again and smiled. The look on his face said everything their words couldn't. He was finally sharing this moment with someone how cared about him.
It didn't take long for Sherlock to start wiggling to get more, so John decided he must not be in too much pain. He pulled out slowly and pushed back in a few times. Slowly at first, to make sure he wasn't hurting Sherlock. Instead Sherlock moved his hips with more intensity and gripped his cock between his fingers.
Their pace quickened as both men knew they wouldn't last all that long between the physical stimulation and the emotional bond that was so strong between them. It only took a few more minutes for Sherlock to start shaking around John as he tried to fight off the orgasm. He wanted to wait for John who he figured couldn't be far behind him. He took John's swollen lips in a kiss that expressed all of the sentiment that he knew he wouldn't be able to express. This was something new for both of them, and he wanted it to last, but he could feel that it wouldn't. A few more thrusts from John, and he was screaming into the kiss they were both still consumed by.
The clenching of muscles around John was all it took to unravel the last shred of control he had as he pounded in to Sherlock with every bit of strength he has. Sherlock's orgasm pulled John over the edge as they both shook with the intensity of the moment.
John collapsed onto Sherlock and the younger pulled him into a tight hug while he tried to figure out which way was up again. John pecked a small kiss onto the sweaty forehead of the genius, and they both smiled.
A few minutes after they had both settled back down, John left momentarily to grab something to clean them both off with. He returned and quickly cleaned most of the cum off of them both.
He threw the fabric on the floor and settled in next to Sherlock. No more words were spoken that night. Everything that needed to be expressed was out in the open. There were no more hidden demons for Sherlock, and John's were not nearly as tormenting anymore. They could make this work even if the guys down at The Yard did give them shit the next few times they were there. They could handle this together.