John, go get some milk. -SH
I'm working Sherlock! -JW
Boring, I'm much more fun then work. -SH
Why don't you do the shopping for once? It would be a nice change. -JW
Will it make you happy? -SH
Very. -JW
Fine, only for you. -SH
That's all it took for you to go do the shopping? Seriously? -JW
Yes, I'm sure Mycroft can give me a lift, if anything those cars are just wasting petrol. -SH
You know, for a consulting detective, you really are quite lazy. -JW
On cases I run none stop after criminals. Not lazy, just bored. -SH
Fine then, a bored consulting detective about to go shopping and get milk. -JW
Anything you want? Might as well stock up on supplies. -SH
Tea would be nice. Oh, and some beans and something for dinner too, while you're at it. -JW
Got it, what about a cook book? I could learn how to cook something, cooking is a part of science. -SH
John snorted at the thought of Sherlock cooking, before quickly texting a reply before his next patient would arrive: Sure, why not - JW
I could be a brilliant cook, John. Right, I'm finally at the shop, do you need any bathroom stuff? -SH
No, I'm fine for now, Sherlock. -JW
Right, good. I'm sure you can do your personal shopping. -SH
Pretty sure I can. I always do. -JW
You: [After a pause]
John, the woman at the till keeps making eyes at me, and not in a good way. -SH
Then do what you normally do and make her uncomfortable, deduce her or something. -JW
I have an idea, go along with it, don't be mad. -SH
... What are you doing, Sherlock? Please don't get yourself arrested or banned from the shops -JW
Sherlock typed in John's number, phoning him. He was in line at the till, hoping John would pick up.
John started in surprise when Sherlock called his phone. Sherlock never called. Glancing nervously at the door, where his next patient still hadn't come in, he pressed the pick up button. "Hello?" he asked hesitantly. Dear God, he hoped this wouldn't be humiliating or horrible.
'Hello, love, hope you're having a lovely day at work. I'm just doing the shopping, got us some food for tonight.' he said, speaking into the phone. He glanced at the woman at the till, she was frowning and wasn't looking his way.
John's jaw dropped, a faint blush crawling up his cheeks. "Dammit, Sherlock," he hissed into the phone before clearing his voice. Fine, if Sherlock wanted him to play along, he would. "I'm fine, /sweetie/. Hope you're buying us something delicious for dinner."
Sherlock chuckled into the phone. 'Yes, you'll love it, it's all for you.' Placing the contents of the basket onto the till. 'I love you, John, always have, you never realised did you, you had all those girlfriends, when I was waiting at home for you. Well I have to go, see you soon, love you.'
John's blush got brighter, even though he knew Sherlock was just doing this to get rid of the girl at the till. That thought caused a slight pang in his chest and it took him a moment to reply. "Oh good," he said faintly, before clearing his throat. "I'll see you at home, love you," he added just for effect, and, of course, just as his patient walked in. Eyes widening, John quickly ended the call and stuffed the phone in his pocket, clearing his throat and smiling awkwardly at the girl.
Sherlock ended the call and sighed softly. Telling the truth was never easy, especially when that certain person didn't know it was the truth. He quickly paid for everything and went home, trying not to let his emotions get in the way.
John sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands as he walked outside into the cold air of the London streets. After a while of living in London, he gave up trying to catch cabs. They avoided him, and he didn't think that he would ever trust a cabbie since the Study in Pink. Glancing up at the sky and watching as his breath floated up to the sky, Sherlock's words floated in his ears. "I love you, John, always have, you never realised did you, you had all those girlfriends, when I was waiting at home for you."
His heart panged with longing for those words to be true. On their first case, Sherlock had made his intentions clear: John was a flatmate and nothing more. John had long ago resigned himself to a life of unrequited love for the immature consulting detective, but it would be a while before he could act normal around Sherlock because of what he had said today. He didn't want to give himself false hope just to have it crushed.
Sherlock had been studying the cookery book for a while, interested in it. It kept his mind busy and stopped him from being bored. Placing the book down, he stared down at his phone.
It was true. -SH
He sent the small message to John, running to his room to hide. He really didn't want John to be angry at him, all those times he had told him about not being gay. Sherlock shuddered. It wasn't fair, the one time he did fall in love and he couldn't have him.
John was halfway home when his phone dinged with a text. Startled, he dug his phone out from his pocket and opened the message. Frowning, he replied, somewhat cautiously.
What was true -JW
What I said on the phone. -SH
Sherlock buried himself under the covers. Now he had done it. How mad was John going to be? Would the good doctor move out? No, John couldn't leave him, they needed each other, that was obvious from the start.
John stared at him phone in disbelief. Was Sherlock messing with him? No, not even Sherlock was that cruel. He froze in place, people muttering in annoyance and bustling around him. Maybe Sherlock was referring to something else? Shaking his head, he kept walking and texted a reply, his hands shaking slightly.
I'll be home soon. We can talk properly then. -JW
Sherlock bit his lip staring at the message. Was this a good thing or not? Climbing out of bed, Sherlock made his way to the kitchen, preparing their dinner. Maybe John wouldn't be as angry if he made him dinner?
John quickened his pace, the chill making his leg ache slightly, but he ignored it. Soon, he was speeding across London streets. He slowed as Baker Street came into view; he didn't know what to expect and he wanted to give himself sometime to recover from his burst of speed. Anticipation, hope, confusion and slight dread swirled around in his stomach like butterflies as he came closer and closer to his and Sherlock's flat. Climbing the stairs, he dug his key from his pocket and hurriedly shoved it in the lock, opening the door.
Yanking the key out and practically throwing his leather jacket onto the coat rack, John took the stairs two at a time. "Sherlock?" he called.
Sherlock had just finished poring the beans onto the toast. Knowing John would fuss if he didn't eat, he made himself a small portion. He gave the pan a quick rinse and placed it in the sink. 'I'm in the kitchen.' he called back, sitting down at the table. As John came into view Sherlock smiled. 'I made dinner, you did want beans tonight?'
Heart racing in anticipation, John forced himself to walk normally into the kitchen and not run in there and shake Sherlock, demanding he explain himself. Taking a deep breath, he walked into the kitchen and paused for a moment, taking in the scene. Sherlock was sitting at the table, beans on toast in front of him and one in John's spot. "As long they aren't poisoned," John replied automatically to Sherlock's question, and sat down in his spot, smiling at Sherlock to show he didn't really think that Sherlock would poison him.
He was practically bursting with impatience, but he was a soldier, and he could wait, so he cut up a piece of the beans and toast and stuck it in his mouth, surprised at how good it tasted. His never tasted this good. The thought caused him to frown slightly.
Sherlock nodded and ate quietly. The sooner he finished eating, the sooner they could talk. He glanced over at John, watching how his mouth moved while he ate. Sherlock forced himself to look away, the doctor wouldn't like him to stare at him. Finishing usually fast, Sherlock drank some of the water and waited for John.
Usually, John would take his time and enjoy his meal, but he just wanted to know what Sherlock meant. Watching his flatmate as scrumptiously as he could, John quickly finished off his meal. Laying his knife and fork together in the middle of the plate, John stood and grabbed his plate, and Sherlock's and took them to the sink to be washed. Later. He returned to the table and looked at Sherlock expectantly. "Thanks for cooking dinner, Sherlock, it was delicious," John said truthfully, to start off the conversation that was bound to follow.
Sherlock stood up from the table. Tucking in his chair he glanced at John. 'Yes, well I had to prove to you that I was telling the truth, because I was John.' Sherlock sighed and ran a hand through his curls. 'Just tell me, what you're thinking right now.'
John watched Sherlock stand, blue eyes tracking every move of the consulting detective. His eyes flickered down at the table briefly before back up and catching Sherlock's eyes. His stomach clenched and heart missed a beat at Sherlock's words and he mentally berated himself for acting like a star-stuck teenager. "You don't have to prove anything to me, Sherlock," John said softly with a small, crooked grin. "And, I'm thinking that this is all just a dream, and soon I'll wake up and find I fell asleep at work," he added, chuckling to himself at the amount of times he had done exactly that.
Sherlock stepped over to John, his breath hitched in his throat. 'This isn't a dream, if it was I would have kissed you already.' he explained softly. He kept his eyes on John, trying to deduce but failing. He frowned. 'I can't deduce you at the moment.' he muttered, scratching his head. 'Whenever I try to think I can't, it's like my mind won't let me, I'm too busy thinking of you.'
John's breath caught as Sherlock stepped over to him. He blew out a breath and closed his eyes as he tried to get himself under control. When he opened his eyes, he smirked up at Sherlock. "I'll take that as a compliment," he chuckled, and then stood because he hated feeling shorter than he already was.
Sherlock leaned against the sink, avoiding John's eyes. 'It is a compliment, albeit a strange one.' He concentrated on breathing for a moment, closing his eyes so John's face wouldn't distract him. 'I do love you John.' he said finally opening his eyes.
John smiled fondly as Sherlock leant against the sink and John's heart stopped for longer than should be possible, before restarting on double time as John's love for Sherlock burst forward, unrestrained for the first time, as Sherlock confessed his love for John. He was sure his emotions were written all over his face and he walked over to Sherlock, standing mere millimetres away from the brilliant man, looking up at him and smiling broadly. "And I love you, Sherlock," John whispered, a light flush crawling up his cheeks at the admission, and a giddy feeling erupting inside him, wreaking havoc on his insides.
Sherlock couldn't help the gasp that escaped his lips. His heart was beating so fast he was sure he was going to have a heart attack. Sherlock let out a shaky breath, staring down at John. Fighting to control himself Sherlock gently touched John's cheek, stroking it slowly. Taking his time, Sherlock leant down, gazing into John's eyes to see if it was okay, before pressing his smooth cupids bow against John's rough lips.
John's eyes fluttered, fighting to close, but John kept them open, wanting to see Sherlock face. He titled his head slightly into Sherlock's gentle touch on his cheek and couldn't help closing his eyes as Sherlock's lips finally connected with his. Letting out a soft sigh of contentedness, John knew there would be nothing to compare this to. No one else could make John feel the way Sherlock did, and now, kissing him, John could have sworn that if he died right then, he would be happy. Reaching up and slowly wrapping his hand around Sherlock's neck, he twisted his finger's in Sherlock's silky, black curls, a low moan escaping from him without consent.
Sherlock moved his gangly arms around John's waist, keeping him close. As first kisses with flatmate's go, this one was perfect. He hadn't had much kissing experience, only for cases and even that wasn't as good as this one. John really knew how to kiss, his lips were rough, but felt good against his own. Hearing John moan, Sherlock replied with a low groan.
All of John's blood seemed to rush to his groin upon hearing Sherlock's low groan, and he momentarily tightened his grip on Sherlock's hair before relaxing. Realising that Sherlock probably hadn't kissed much before (since he seemed to hate anything remotely to do with /feelings/) and could help his small smirk as a strange sense of pride welled up within him. Opening his mouth slightly, he tilted his head to the side so that their heads fit together better, he flicked his tongue against Sherlock's cupids bow lips and sliding his other hand around Sherlock's waist and pressing him even closer.
Sherlock opened his mouth eagerly, wanting to taste John. Sherlock cheekily licked John's lips before retreating. He felt John pull them closer together and gasped, John was already aroused. Sherlock moaned louder this time, his hips bucking a few times. One of his arms trailed his fingers up and down John's back, going down to the hem, pushing it up a little to reveal his shirt underneath.
John felt himself get even harder at Sherlock's tongue's playful teasing, and he knew Sherlock would be able to feel it, but seriously didn't care. He groaned when Sherlock bucked his hips against John's and John pressed Sherlock back against the sink. He snaked his tongue into Sherlock's mouth and licked up and down the length of Sherlock's tongue, arching his back into his taller flatmate when Sherlock's long fingers pushed up his sweater. Two could play at that game, and they both knew that John was more experienced in this than Sherlock. The hand on Sherlock's waist slipped under Sherlock's shirt and lightly traced circles on the skin.
Sherlock moaned and the usual feeling of John's tongue in his mouth, but it didn't feel bad, it was good, different but good. He explored John's tongue, making a push and pull movement with it. Being pushed back into the sink, Sherlock, pulled at John's jumper, a growl of impatience escaping his lips. Feeling brave, Sherlock slipped the hand that was around John's waist to his arse, pulling him closer. He slowly grinded into him, breaking their kiss to allow another deep groan come out.
John shivered as Sherlock growled. Damn that was such a sexy sound. "Goddammit," John gasped as Sherlock broke the kiss and grinded into him. Opening his eyes and seeing Sherlock's neck in front of him and didn't waste the perfect opportunity presenting itself to him. He leant forward and sucked the pale skin into his mouth, bucking his hips into Sherlock's and breathing heavily. He smoothed his tongue over Sherlock's skin before biting down, hard, but not hard enough to break the skin, just enough to leave a mark for a while.
Sherlock tilted his head back, grasping onto John tightly. His knees felt like they were going to give out at any time, John was too good at this. Sherlock wasn't surprised when his trousers grew tight and confining. He whimpered quietly, his fingers curling into the back of John's jumper. 'Please..' he begged breathlessly.
John chuckled breathlessly, releasing Sherlock's neck and pressing kisses all over Sherlock's face. His cheeks, his nose, his chin, his forehead. "Since you said please," John murmured teasingly, smiling slightly as he took in Sherlock's flushed face. "But not here, someone might walk in," John said, pulling away slightly and glancing at the door. "Your room is closer," he breathed into Sherlock's ear, lightly nibbling on the shell and relishing the control he had over the genius.
Sherlock pushed John backwards. 'I brought some stuff today.' he said shyly. 'In my room.' Stumbling forward, Sherlock went to his room, pulling John with him. He pushed open the door more forcefully then needed, sitting on the edge with a heavy blush rising on his cheeks. He watched John with dilated pupils, pulling out the bag from under the bed.
John allowed Sherlock to push and pull him into his room, and John shut the door behind them with his foot, part of him still waiting to wake up and for this to just be another dream. He greedily took in the blush on Sherlock's normally pale skin and his dilated pupils. Then he looked at the bag in Sherlock's hands and strode over to him, peering inside it and grinning at the contents. He took Sherlock's face in his hands and kissed him roughly. "Are you sure about this?" John asked, his voice deeper and rougher than he had intended.
Sherlock returned the kiss, pulling at John's clothes. 'Yes, I want you, I've wanted you for months, please.' He took John's hand and placed it on his crotch. 'Please, it hurts, need you so much..' he let out a whine and bucked his hips into John's hand. Blinking up at John, Sherlock gazed into his dark blue eyes.
John shuddered and his hand tightened on Sherlock's cock. Returning Sherlock's stare, he reached into the bag and grabbed the lube and condoms. He put them on the bed beside Sherlock. Still holding Sherlock's lust-filled gaze, John slowly, teasingly, took of his sweater and shirt before reaching down and unzipping his pants. He left his boxers on for now, and knelt down between Sherlock's legs and kissed him, reaching out and starting to unbutton his shirt.
Sherlock whimpered at the sudden burst of pleasure. Gulping, Sherlock watched John take off everything expect for his boxers. His eyes widened at the bulge hidden away in John's boxers, he never got this lucky. He had never thought tonight this is where he would be, not with John anyway. It still seemed unlikely. Sherlock's eyes watched John's fingers undoing his shirt.
John kept his eyes trained on Sherlock's face as Sherlock watched John undo his shirt. Moving quicker now, he quickly undid the rest of the buttons and dropped the shirt on the ground next to John's. Resting his hand on Sherlock's zipper, he palmed Sherlock's erection through his jeans for a moment, before becoming impatient and undoing Sherlock's pants, sliding them off his long legs and tackled Sherlock to the bed, straddling him and pinning him there. He liked the feeling of being in control, and looking down at Sherlock, pinned under him, he let out a low groan and bucked his hips into Sherlock's.
Once his shirt was on the floor they both fought with Sherlock's trousers, pulling them door and tugged them off. Staring up at John, Sherlock moaned at the close contact. Sherlock was surprised by this new side of John, he was totally different like this. Being pinned to his own bed was a massive turn on, just being with John was. Bucking up uncontrollably, Sherlock wrapped his arms around John, holding him close.
John leant down and kissed Sherlock deeply, lapping at Sherlock's irresistible lips. John could see he was fast becoming addicted with kissing Sherlock. Reaching a hand down, he slipped his hand under Sherlock's boxers and gripped Sherlock's hard erection for the first time, squeezing gently and dragging his fist up and down slowly.
Sherlock's hands held the back of John's head to his lips, kissing back just as hungrily. Sherlock let out a gasp at John's hand on him, he cried out as John stroked him, the sensations overwhelming him. 'M-more..' he groaned out, fisting the bed sheets.
John smirked at the power he held over Sherlock and squeezed Sherlock again, rougher this time and dragged his hand up and down faster before slipping his hand out and tugging Sherlock's boxer's down. He gazed down at Sherlock's hard length and felt his boxer's become too confining. He quickly stripped, not releasing Sherlock's mouth as he flicked his tongue against the roof of Sherlock's mouth.
Sherlock let out a sigh of relief once his boxers were down. Sherlock's right hand moved down to roughly grip John's arse. He reached down with his over hand, gently ghosting it along John's cock, teasing him. Sherlock pushed his tongue against John's fighting for dominance.
John liked a good challenge, but he was sure to win this one. His hips jerked when Sherlock's hand ghosted across his hard and aching cock, and withdrew his tongue slightly, sucking Sherlock's tongue into his mouth. He reached down and caressed down Sherlock's chest, his pointer finger swirling, teasingly light, around his nipple.
Sherlock greedily explored John's mouth, tasting as much of John as he could, identifying what kind of food John had for lunch, what he drank, their dinner. Sherlock arched his back into John's touch, gripping the doctor's cock. 'No.' he warned. 'I could leave you like this John, finish myself off and leave you aching for hours.'
John growled lowly at Sherlock, eyes narrowing at the consulting detective. He would teach him to threaten a soldier. Glancing back down the bed, John reached and grabbed the packet of lube, sitting up and opening it, spreading it onto his fingers on one hand and rubbing to warm it up a bit, tossing the packet back onto the bed. He reached down and lightly rubbed a finger around Sherlock's hole before pressing a finger into him, sliding down Sherlock's body and pressing a kiss to the taller man's pale stomach.
Sherlock let go of John calmly. 'You're lucky I didn't say that I would find someone else, that would have been too easy John. I can imagine, a beautiful possessive soldier, sitting between my thighs.' Sherlock chuckled. Sherlock tensed up a little when John's finger slid in, after waiting for a moment, Sherlock got used to it and started rocking his hips slowly.
John looked up, blue eyes smouldering, "If you /ever/ threaten to leave me for somebody else, Sherlock, I swear to God I'll move out," John growled, a feeling of possessiveness welling up inside his chest causing him to thrust his finger into Sherlock roughly. Then he added another finger, stretching Sherlock. He waited a while for Sherlock to get used to it, before thrusting his fingers roughly into Sherlock.
Sherlock only nodded. He was too scared to lose John over a little bit of teasing. 'You wouldn't.' Sherlock cried out at the sudden pain of John's fingers. His eyes slammed shut, refusing to open, he didn't want to be seen as weak.
John's expression softened. He had gone too far, he wouldn't really leave Sherlock. It seemed as if it was physically impossible. Pausing his finger action for a moment, he slid back up Sherlock's body, leaving his fingers inside the consulting detective and gently kissed Sherlock. He nibbled lightly on Sherlock's lips and lifted his other hand to gently stroke Sherlock's high cheek bones.
Sherlock kissed back, calming himself down. He slowly opened his eyes. 'I wouldn't really leave you John.' he said in a quiet voice, watching John's reactions. 'I'm sorry.' he muttered, blinking to stop a tear from falling.
John watched Sherlock open his eyes, and gave a small smile. "I know," he murmured, then shook his head. "It's not your fault, if anything, it's mine, and I'm sorry. I wouldn't leave you either, Sherlock. I promise." John frowned as he saw the moisture in Sherlock's usually guarded eyes and gently kissed along Sherlock's eyebrow, hoping to express how truly sorry he was. He gently moved his fingers up inside Sherlock and watched his face for a reaction.
Sherlock cupped John's cheek, pulling him down for a soft kiss. He let out a light moan at the feeling of John's fingers inside him. 'It's okay, I'm fine, John, carry on, please.' He wiped his eyes and smiled back.
John peppered kisses all over Sherlock's face as he began to slowly move his fingers. "OK, but you have to tell me if it's too much, or too little, deal?" he demanded, not wanting to make Sherlock cry again. Tracing a hand down, he splayed his fingers over Sherlock's chest, enjoying the feel of Sherlock's fast heart beat against his palm.
Sherlock moved against John's finger with a growl. 'Deal, just please move, I need you soon.' Sherlock begged, running a hand through John's hair. 'You are amazing, John, and you don't even need deductions.'
John smiled, satisfied, and began to move his fingers faster inside Sherlock, feeling his cock, hot and heavy, between his legs aching for release. Dammit, he needed this so bad as well. He gave a short laugh at Sherlock and kissed him again, resigning himself to the fact that he was already addicted to kissing Sherlock. Not asking this time, he just slid past Sherlock's lips and into his mouth, tangling with Sherlock's tongue.
Sherlock groaned happily, dragging his nails down John's back, leaving angry red marks. Mine, it whispered against John's skin. Sherlock had to claim John as his own, he knew what blonde's did to his brain. A firm growl erupted from Sherlock's chest. No, no-one could touch John, not his John. His tongue didn't bother fighting for dominance this time, they were both equal, plus he had given John control this time.
John shuddered at the feeling of Sherlock's nails dragging down his back. Goddammit he needed Sherlock. NOW. He couldn't wait any longer. He gently pushed against Sherlock's tongue, encouraging him to come out and play. He blindly reached for the lube packet and spread the rest of it into his hands, rubbing to warm it up briefly before applying it to his cock. His hips bucked and he groaned, a low and guttural sound. He gently eased his fingers out and placed his arms on either side of Sherlock's, resting his weight there, and panting harshly as the head of his cock touched Sherlock's hole and he broke out in a sweat as he slowly eased the head inside, pausing there.
Sherlock felt a nervous tingle in the pit of his stomach, it was somewhere in-between, butterflies and arousal. Sherlock took a deep breath as John prepared himself, he knew this was going to hurt he would be lying if he said that it didn't hurt. Sherlock let out a sharp noise as John breached him slowly. He grasped John's arm tightly. 'Wait a minute, give me time to adjust.'
John nodded, shaking slightly, placing a series of short kisses against Sherlock's lips before moving down and tracing his jaw line with soft nibbles, and then kissed slowly along Sherlock's sharp cheekbones. He ducked his head past Sherlock's and began to lightly nibble on Sherlock's earlobe. "Am I your first?" he breathed into Sherlock's ear, wanting desperately to know. He didn't really care if he was or not, but it would be nice if he was.
Sherlock nodded slowly. 'Is that bad?' he replied, wrapping his arm around John's neck. 'In university I deemed that no-one was worth it, which was right for the first part of my young adult life. Now I see I was very wrong, I just needed to find the right person.' Sherlock licked John's neck. 'Mine..all mine..'
John shook his head, a large grin spreading across his face. "No, it's not a bad thing, Sherlock," he whispered into Sherlock's ear, unable to help himself from biting down.
He shuddered as Sherlock licked his neck and said that he was his. "Please, Sherlock, I need to move," John pleaded, shaking with the effort to stay still and not thrust all the way home like he was dying to do. But he was Sherlock's first (and hopefully his only) and he wanted to make this memorable for the consulting detective. "I love you," he added.
Sherlock smiled back. 'Take me John, make love to me.' he whispered in John's ear. He braced himself for more pain. 'I love you too.' Sherlock relaxed, waiting for John to move.
John sighed in relief as he was given permission to move. He slowly and gently slid all the way inside, pausing when he was fully inside Sherlock. He brought his head back and tugged against the hand on his neck, wanting to kiss Sherlock again.
Sherlock felt a little bit of pain but it didn't last long. He distracted himself by running his fingers over John's back. 'I don't want anyone else to touch you, just me.' Sherlock growled, moving his hips.
John shuddered, damn Sherlock and his sexy growling, running a hand slowly down Sherlock's side until he reached the detective's hard erection, grasping it firmly and dragging his hand up and down as he started to thrust into Sherlock.
Sherlock moaned loudly, wrapping his legs around his doctor's waist. 'John..' Sherlock took John's hand off his cock. 'I won't last, John..'
"Neither will I," John murmured lowly, "I've been waiting years for this Sherlock."
John turned his head, his thrusting increasing, a low coil of heat starting down low in his belly. He nibbled on Sherlock's neck and determinedly wrapped his hand around Sherlock's cock again, "milk me, Sherlock," he whispered huskily. He reached out with his other hand and grabbed Sherlock's, twining their fingers together and pining it to the bed to get his balance back.
Sherlock chuckled, slowly he followed the pace, John was setting. 'Let me try something.' he murmured in John's ear. Sherlock arched into the bed, bringing them closer.
John groaned as he thrust into Sherlock at this new angle. He was close to the edge now, he could feel it. "Sherlock," he gasped out, panting heavily. His hand on Sherlock's cock became faster as he strove to the release that he knew would reach him soon.
Sherlock pushed back onto John, feeling like he was teetering on the edge. 'Harder..John.' he groaned, his arms tightening around John's back.
"Oh, God ... Sherlock!" John groaned brokenly, thrusting into Sherlock harder and faster, his hand squeezing Sherlock's cock slightly as he pumped it up and down faster to match with his hips.
Sherlock cried out, tensing up. 'John..' Sherlock came hard and fast, arching into the bed covers. His arms tightened around John.
John shuddered, crying out as well as Sherlock tightened around him, and he came into him. He slowly withdrew his hand from Sherlock's cock and slumped over the taller male, turning his head to the side and tenderly kissing Sherlock's neck. "I love you," he murmured, eyes drooping slowly.
Sherlock panted into John's shoulder, his arms loosened around John, trying to catch his breath. 'I love you too, John.' he whispered breathlessly.
Smiling, John leant up and kissed Sherlock, completely spent. He slowly eased out of Sherlock and wrapped his arms around him, turning them both on their sides.
Sherlock let out a laugh. 'That was amazing, no wonder people do this all the time.' Sherlock snuggled into the sheets, shivering. 'Will you stay with me tonight?'
John noticed Sherlock's shiver and pulled the covers up over them, a fond smile on his face. "Yes, Sherlock. I'll stay with you for as long as you want me," he murmured, meaning every word.
Sherlock leaned his head on John's chest, snuggling into John's side. 'Forever, you're staying forever.' he smiled, pressing little kisses to John's chest.
Heart swelling, John pressing his face into Sherlock's hair. "Good."
Sherlock woke up with John sprawled over his chest, breathing lightly. The detective smiled at the doctor and gently ran his finger tips through his hair. 'Gorgeous.' he whispered.
John grumbled and pressed his face more firmly into the pillow he was using. The surprisingly comfy ... breathing... alive... pillow. Opening his eyes blearily, John looked up and saw Sherlock. Memories from the night before flooded back and he smiled, pressing a kiss to Sherlock's chest, sighing happily.
'Morning, did I wake you?' he asked quietly, stroking John's face. He couldn't help it, but let out a small giggle. John's morning face was the most adorable thing he'd ever seen. He saved it in his mind palace, wanting to go over it in detail.
John smiled, leaning into Sherlock's touch and shook his head lightly. "A bit, but I usually wake up at this time anyway," John replied, giving a short laugh at Sherlock's adorable sleepy face. He reached up, brought Sherlock's head down, moved up and kissed him slowly, revelling in finally being able to do this.
Sherlock firmly wrapped an arm around John's waist, kissing him back. Even half asleep John was still an amazing kisser. 'Do you want me to make you breakfast in bed, is that what boyfriend's do?' he asked, with a yawn.
John let out a giggle when Sherlock said 'boyfriend'. He couldn't help it. "No, I'll make breakfast, I don't think you will be able to stand or walk for a bit," John said coughing slightly, and glancing down in the direction of Sherlock's ass. He stretched and sat up, kissing Sherlock once more before slipping out of bed and grabbing his boxers, slipping them on and padding out of the room, glancing back behind him at Sherlock.
Sherlock nodded with an amused smile. He stared at John's naked body shamelessly with a grin. 'No wonder I'm hurting, that's impressive.' he laughed. He lay back in the bed, the sheets barely covering him.
John paused in the doorway as Sherlock's comment reached him and childishly stuck his tongue out, smirking and blushing slightly, before walking into the kitchen and immediately turned on the kettle before he did anything else. He rummaged through the fridge and came up with bacon and eggs. He set them on the bench and got out two cups, setting them down next to the boiling kettle. He got out a frying pan and started to cook their breakfast, smiling and whistling happily to himself.
Sherlock sighed and went into his mind palace. He giggled at John's face, he looked younger and somewhat more cheeky. He covered his mouth aware that he was laughing louder then normal. 'He's mine.' he whispered to himself, grinning like an idiot.
John's ears perked as he heard Sherlock laughing, but resisted the urge to go and look. Finishing off their breakfast and pouring the tea into their cups, John put it all on two trays (one for him and one for Sherlock) and walked back into Sherlock's room, opening the door with his back.
Sherlock looked up at John. 'Thank you, lo-John.' he bit his lip, he had nearly called John love. Sitting up, Sherlock took his cup of tea. 'I must be very lucky, a cooked breakfast?' he raised an eyebrow but grinned. 'So amazing.'
John smiled, putting the tray on Sherlock's lap. "You should feel /very/ spoilt," John chuckled, leaning down and kissing Sherlock briefly. He heard footsteps pounding up the stairs and froze, Goddamit.
Setting down his tray, he grabbed his shirt and pants and hurriedly put them on, rushing out of Sherlock's room and closing the door firmly behind him. Just in time for Lestrade to appear in the living room. John blushed at the thought that he and Sherlock had nearly been caught practically naked in Sherlock's bed by the DI. "Hello Lestrade," he said, trying to sound casual, but failing miserably.
Sherlock sneaked out of his bed and went to the door, trying not to wince at the pain in his backside. 'John..I'm naked and I really need you..' he moaned loudly. He pressed his hand to his mouth to stop the laughter from spilling out. He knew John would make him pay later but it was so worth it.
Lestrade's mouth opened and then closed, and John blushed furiously, turning and glaring at the door to Sherlock's room. Bastard knew Lestrade was here. John cleared his throat. "What do you want Lestrade?" he asked, scowling slightly.
"There's a case that I need Sherlock to help with," Lestrade said, looking slightly uncomfortable.
John smirked. Payback is sweet, Sherlock, he thought. "I don't think he can help today, he's ... indisposed," John said, mentally sniggering.
Sherlock opened the door and wrapped his arms around John possessively. 'Sorry, Lestrade, I'm spending the day with my boyfriend.' Sherlock didn't care he was naked, it didn't matter to him, they knew what he was like.
"Sherlock!" John gasped in outrage, slight embarrassment and possessiveness. He was NAKED. In front of Lestrade. That didn't sit well with him. He moved so that he covered Sherlock as best as he could. A blush was blazing furiously on his face, but he ignored it. He could feel every inch of Sherlock pressed up against his back.
Lestrade coughed awkwardly, raising an eyebrow at John. "Ok, I'll be leaving then," he said awkwardly, turning and rushing down the stairs.
Sherlock kissed John's neck, right on the mark he'd put there last night. Watching Lestrade run from their flat brought a smile on his face. 'Come on, our breakfast will be getting cold.' he whispered in John's ear.
John shivered slightly as Sherlock kissed his neck, and then he scowled turning within Sherlock's grasp and resting his hands on Sherlock's bare hips, glaring up at him.
'I don't know why you're glaring, he's seen me at my worse, having no boxers on is hardly shocking. Anyway, he's seen me naked before.' Sherlock pressed a kiss to John's lips. 'Come on, I want another cuddle.'
John frowned at that. "Lestrade's seen you naked?" John asked in a low voice, hands tightening on Sherlock's hips as his possessiveness rose.
Sherlock nodded. When he saw John's face he shook his head. 'No not like that. He's saved me a few times when I used to do drugs, he found me in the bath, I just so happened to be naked. Nothing happened.' Sherlock stared into John's eyes. 'I swear I'm telling you the truth.'
John struggled to push down his possessiveness. He couldn't deny the honesty in Sherlock's eyes. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes briefly, he reached up and kissed Sherlock. Then he pushed him back into the bedroom before anyone else came barging in on them.
Sherlock smirked. 'Did you think I shagged Lestrade?' he asked with humour in his voice. He went back over to his bed laying down with his arms open. 'I want my Jawn back.'
John grumbled, "No," he lied in a mutter, not looking in Sherlock's eyes and sitting down beside him on the bed, grabbing Sherlock's fork and spearing a piece of bacon and holding it up to the consulting detective's smirking mouth.
Sherlock ate the bacon earning a smile from his doctor. 'He's my friend, you are my boyfriend, there is a fine difference.' Sherlock picked up his tea and sipped it.
John smiled, eyes tracing over Sherlock's face, memorising yet again every line. "Damn right," he muttered, giving Sherlock a crooked grin and a wink.
Sherlock smiled. 'You were really jealous weren't you?' He traced John jaw very gently with the tip of his finger. 'I don't blame you, but I'm sorry to say that the silver fox is Molly's boyfriend.'
John scowled, "I wasn't jealous," he denied, lying his ass off and both of them knew it. Then he frowned in confusion. "Lestrade and Molly are going out?" he asked. Why was he never informed of these things?
Sherlock shook his head. 'Of course you weren't, but you were only doing your job as a good boyfriend.' Sherlock cut up a piece of bacon and put the fork up to John's mouth. 'I deduced it from him.'
John smiled and bit the bacon from the fork and swallowed quickly, he was always eager to find out how Sherlock got information by deducing people. "How?"
'His coat, it smelt like the labs at Bart's, he never goes there, so he must be seeing someone important, narrowing it down it must be Molly.' Sherlock shrugged, eating some bacon for himself.
John thought about for a moment, before shrugging and glancing at the clock, his face pulling down into small pout. He would have to go to work soon. He ate some more of his breakfast a took a sip of his fast-cooling tea.
The End.