John crawled up the bed prowling towards Sherlock, who shrank back with a sudden indecipherable look
on his face. John stopped abruptly frowning. It had taken them years to build up to the point where they had
finally taken each other to bed, but now Sherlock was looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. 'Are you…sure
that you're okay with this?' he asked from his position, holding himself about halfway up Sherlock's long pale
body. He was desperately hoping that he would say yes, because John had been painfully hard awhile now, and
he wanted to get things headed towards orgasm rather sooner than later. Sherlock blinked for a beat longer
than normal and then nodded. John, unconvinced, hesitated and then tipped himself to the side landing next to
him on the sheets. 'Okay, something's up. I thought you wanted…' Sherlock cut him off with a violent shake of
the head and an abbreviated eye roll. 'Obviously I want it John, I came quite willingly to bed, and-' he gestured
down at his pants-covered erection 'I'm ready to go'. John still looked at him uncertainly so Sherlock sighed and
continued 'I want this John. I wouldn't have started something without intending to finish it. But you should
know that…I haven't exactly done this before.' He looked down at his hands, suddenly shy.
John relaxed, of course Sherlock was nervous, he remembered his first time too-a quick romp in
someone elses bed at his first ever college party. He had been shaking, but the girl he was with took charge
and led him through it. He could do the same for Sherlock now. 'Let's just take things slow, okay?' Sherlock
nodded and seemed to calm as John leaned back over him and started slowly kissing up along his jaw line to
capture those warm parted lips with his own. He felt Sherlock respond instantly, threading his long fingers into
John's short blonde hair and softly moaning into his mouth.
Okay, so far so good, John thought, leaning on one elbow and using his free hand to slowly stroke up
and down Sherlock's arms and shoulders as they kissed. This felt more natural to him than he could have
hoped for, and Sherlock was so sensitive that John was beginning to enjoy seeking out what touches would
make him make those deep sounds that went straight to his cock. He began to make his way down Sherlock's
body, pausing at one dusky pink nipple, earning another moan from his partner, before drifting his hand to grip
at his too-bony hip. Sherlock pulled away, gasping as John gently began feeling under his pants to lightly brush
the edges of the curly dark hair near his groin. John grinned and shifted back on his heels to pull down the
tented fabric, careful of the leaking cock that was revealed. John glanced back up at Sherlock quickly to check if
everything was all right, and at Sherlock's nod reached out to grasp the shaft with one hand. It felt foreign to
him, holding the hard length of another man, but not unpleasant,especially not when it was attached to the
strange and wonderful man he was beginning to suspect meant far more to him
than a best mate.
Sherlock's cock was pretty much exactly what John had pictured, long and lean like the man himself, and
curving ever-so-slightly to the left. John gave it an experimental stroke and nearly let go in surprise at the
nearly inhuman noise that came from Sherlock. Shifting his gaze back up, John found that Sherlock's eyes were
clenched tightly shut and his hands, which had been resting at his sides loosely, were clutching at the sheets
with white knuckles. John turned his focus back to the task at hand, so to speak, and gave it another pull,
slowly slicking skin-on-skin from base to tip using the pre-come as natural lubricant. He had never done this
before, but he knew what felt good to him, and attempted to focus on the little knot just under the head.
Sherlock was twisting around now, groaning like John was exactly the type of sex god that the nickname 'Three
Continents Watson' implied. Feeling a bit more confident, John dropped to his elbow and spontaneously leaned
forward to lick a stripe up the underside of Sherlock's cock, right along the thick vein that ran under the velvety
skin. To his shock, Sherlock immediately shuddered violently and came in thick white stripes all over his
stomach. In the silence that followed John stared blankly at the evidence that wasn't adding up in his lust-filled
brain. He blinked up at Sherlock to find that he was blushing furiously and looking at anything but John.'Ummm'
John was just able to begin before Sherlock wrenched himself out of the bed and disappeared into the
bathroom before John could process what had happened.
Well. Helping Sherlock achieve orgasm had been easier than he had thought, he had been worried about
being rubbish when faced with another cock, but now he wondered if perhaps there was a thing as too easy.
His own erection fading, John sat up and considered. Sherlock was obviously mortified that he had come too
soon, and John as a man, could relate whole-heartedly to the situation. He wasn't sure sharing similar tales
about John as a teenager would exactly help the thirty-something man who was currently hiding out in their
loo, but he couldn't ignore that what Sherlock needed was reassurance. John had learned long ago that while
Sherlock's ego was large, it could be easily hurt, he would have to be careful not to scare him off completely.
John got up and went to the bathroom door. There was no sound from the other side, and he risked the knob.
He knew it wouldn't be locked; Sherlock had broken it on purpose months ago so that he could bother John
with questions while he was showering or shaving. John had never used it to barge in on Sherlock's privacy
before, but now his gut told him that if left to his own devices, Sherlock could take refuge in the bathroom for
days at a time, knowing his inhuman ability to go without food and his underdeveloped ability to handle
emotions. John took a deep breath, tried to gather his thoughts, and opened the door.
On the other side, Sherlock was standing with his back to John, hands. clenching the white porcelain of the
sink, shoulders hunched against the world. Shifting from foot to food awkwardly, John tried to think of
something fitting to say. When nothing came, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Sherlock from
behind, resting his head on Sherlock's back, hands tentatively stroking along his chest. Neither spoke, but John
could hear Sherlock's heartbeat gradually slowing and feel his muscles relaxing into the embrace. After what
seemed like ages, Sherlock turned around and looked at John quickly before averting his eyes to speak to the
tiled floor. 'I can understand if you don't want to continue…whatever this is' He said, but John quickly shook his
head, 'That isn't what I want at all you berk. What I want is for you to come back to bed for round two.'
Sherlock's eyes darted back to his and stared at him for a moment before his mouth twitched in what might
have been a smile. 'You're incredibly gorgeous when you come, did you know that?' John asked conversationally
as he led him back to the darkened bedroom. 'Now this time, I've got some ideas that I want to try…'