A/N: Bond and Love scenes taken from The Adventure of The Speckled Band and The Adventure of The Three Garridebs. (par.8 & par.11[from the last] because Johnlock is canon!)
Storyline of Sheet from RPing with stranger. Credit for you, hey awesome stranger! (Hope you recognize this as I made many editing for the story.).
Listen to Martin Freeman 'One Love' (Ian Dury) while reading this, please. Oh it's so perfect for Sherlock theme song.
Disclaimer: The brilliant characters etc. belong to amazing Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
Warning: spoiler to aforementioned chapters of Sherlock Holmes. And paragraph format messed up after I uploaded my file to FFnet. Whatever. My first time anyway. #excuse
Unbetaed. Expect grammar errors.
Summary Ch.1: Financial difficulties led a consulting detective and an ex-army medic shared a flat. In no time they're inseparable for crime scenes. In action, Sherlock Holmes fully dressed with coat and blue scarf. In their flat, white sheet simply wrapped around his bare body. John Watson had to decide whether it's a bother or bless. Story development Bond-Love-Sheet.
Happy New Year! Autumn 2013, we're ready for Sherlock 3!
CHAPTER 1.
-ACCIDENTALLY-
I. Accidentally in BOND
Their late night exertions had been too much for John Watson's weak health, and he was tired out in the past midnight. After Sherlock Holmes bid him a good night, John lay upon his cold bed and endeavored to get a couple of hours' sleep.
Ah, no such luxury when you lived and bonded with a high-functioning sociopath that was Sherlock Holmes.
Fully dressed, with his coat and blue scarf wrapped around his neck, Sherlock ambushed his only flat mate's bedroom. The sleeping man was giving his back. When the detective was about to wake the man, John turned facing him sleeping.
Sherlock's hand and his voice was paused mid-air. His sharp and piercing eyes stared at the sleeping man.
John's face at the moment was so peaceful and looked much younger. Untouched by the constant nightmare of war field that had haunted the ex-soldier for years. With unexplainable expression, Sherlock stood by the side of John's bed watching him sleep, forgetting his early intention of entering the room.
It was a loud horn of a car out the 221B Baker Street wall that arose both bachelors.
"John." Sherlock called.
John blinked up at Sherlock in some surprise, and perhaps just some resentment, for the interruption.
The clock on the nightstand showed John that it was only a quarter-past seven. He had slept no more than four hours. He was a late person. Sherlock Holmes was a late riser. So what did they owe the pleasure of waking up in the haze of a morning?
"John, we have a very pressing case lies ahead."
"All right. Be safe."
"I said we."
"Do you really need my assistance?" John annoyed by the intrusion of his lack of sleep. Even after years he had his sleep hours messed up by Sherlock's suddens, yet he still couldn't accustomed to it as it was his regular.
"I need you." Sherlock paused for a moment, "I mean I need a fresh perspective on this. Besides, hearing your useless and invalid comments…never fails to enlighten me. Now, hurry." Sherlock dragged John out of bed.
John Watson was grumbling mentally while Sherlock's eyes traveled round and round and up and down, taking in every detail of the mansion.
"John, will you stop it."
The doctor gave the detective fierce glance. It was freaking freezing in the big empty room and he hadn't had a chance to put jacket on as Sherlock hastily pulled him out into a taxi that morning.
A quick and heavy step of a young lady entered the room.
"Mr. Holmes, I thought I've informed you that this is an absolute secrecy and I should much prefer to communicate with you alone." The young lady looked at the detective sharp.
Great. Now he had an uncalled chance to go home and back to his warm and cozy bed, John thought.
"Should I, just go, then.." The doctor moved to go, but Sherlock caught him by the wrist and pulled him back by his side.
"Miss Stoner, this is my intimate friend and associate, Dr Watson, before whom you can speak as freely as before myself." Sherlock exclaimed without a blink, chin rose up.
John Watson could feel himself surprised and blushed at the chosen words. He turned his head to other side, hoping both persons didn't notice it.
Sherlock, always surprised everyone with his extraordinary word choose, John spoke mentally.
The talk between the young lady and the detective went on and on. Supposition lines, facts and reasons were exchanged between the both of them.
They were outside the mansion now. John was only on his shirt and trousers stood beside the consulting detective, watching the hard and peculiar conversation. By only standing without doing anything, the doctor could feel the cold seeped through his pain bone.
He put his hands into his trousers' pockets. Shivered once in a while. But never in his mind crossed the thought to leave the detective alone in the crime scene for a cup of hot tea or some comfort.
John Watson had no keener pleasure than in following Sherlock Holmes in his professional investigations, and in admiring the rapid deductions, as swift as intuitions, and yet always founded on a logical basis with which Sherlock unraveled the cases in swift conclusion which were submitted to him.
John realized a moment there was a deft. He focused his eyes and mind back to reality and looked at Sherlock. The detective had just stopped mid-deduction and put off his coat.
John frowned. Sherlock Holmes never stopped mid-deduction.
To John's surprise, Sherlock wrapped the coat around his shoulders.
"Looked cold." Mumbled Sherlock and he was back to his client, rambling the rest of his deduction.
John Watson, for the first time in his life, stood with mouth agape and had nothing in his mind to think of.
He only registered goosebump on Sherlock's exposed arms to his notion.
Without thinking, John reached for the folded sleeves on Sherlock's elbows and unfolded it, covering the exposed skin with the expensive purple garment.
Sherlock in other hand did notice what his doctor did and had again paused his exclamation words of deduction to look at John's eyes. Again, the unexplainable expression crossed on Sherlock's face.
II. Accidentally in LOVE
Sherlock Holmes stared in silence at John Watson, whose lips were compressed and his brow knitted by his worry eyes as the doctor was stitching on Sherlock's arm.
"It was beyond my expectation," Sherlock broke the silence, unable to stand John's silence, "the man, had obstinate to summon his strength to grab the heavy gun after I took him down."
The doctor didn't respond. Sherlock's face twitched.
"He shot the gun at you, for God's sake, John! He deserved it!" Sherlock grabbed John's upper arms and shook him, making the doctor raised his head and stared back at his dear friend.
Sherlock's hard eyes were dimmed for a moment, and the firm lips were shaking.
"Yes, Sherlock, but it was a mere scratch. You didn't have to finish him that horribly. He could die." John took Sherlock's hands and put them down to the man's lap, he's back on fixing the detective's wound.
"If he had killed you, he would not have got out of that room alive." Sherlock hissed in dark voice.
It was worth a wound—it was worth many wounds—for John to know the depth of loyalty and love which lay behind that cold mask. All his many years of devotion and humble but single-minded service culminated in that moment of revelation.
"I'm fine, Sherlock." Head down, after a moment pause of shock, John made effort to focus back on his medical work. Then he whispered, "Thank you."
Sherlock pulled a tiny smile on the corner of his mouth, which soon vanished as footsteps came near them.
"The man's hardly breathe. Still alive, though. So, would you mind letting us know what you have seen and done, Holmes?" Lestrade said breathlessly while he walked closer toward the ambulance where both best friends occupied. Seemed the detective inspector had finished the hard work on the spectacular messy crime scene.
"What happened with your thigh, doc?" Sergeant Donovan pointed her chin to the bleeding thigh of John.
John looked down at the mentioned subject. He remembered how Sherlock in panic had ripped up his trouser with his pocket knife to check his leg that had been touched by the villain's bullet.
"It's nothing." John raised his eyebrows. He had forgotten about his wound as he was too worried by the wide slice on Sherlock's arm. Now that someone had mentioned it, he could feel the pain started to register in his brain.
Sherlock, noticed too, just now. He grimaced.
III. Accidentally in SHEET
With a heavy sigh, John Watson turned off the laptop. Feeling still irritated by the harsh comment he got for his blog about their last case of Silver Blaze he had solved with his flat mate. Or, intimate friend, in Sherlock's reference. John blushed at the memory.
He decided to have an afternoon cup of tea.
When the doctor stepped into the sitting room in his unpleasant mood, he thought nothing could be any worse until he stared tiredly at the man before him.
"Sherlock," John rubbed his temples with his right thumb and index finger.
"Yes?" The said man who was just walking few meters out from his bedroom door stopped, and turned his head toward his flat mate.
"Can you for once not walking around the flat with only, sheet, wrapping your body?" John dropped his right hand and stared at Sherlock.
"Why?"
"It- do you even wear pants?" John cocked back his head, frowning.
"What for?"
John blew a heavy sigh.
"It's not an appropriate thing normal people would do." John walked closer toward Sherlock. But of course, he's not a normal person, John added mentally.
"It's just you and me, so what's the problem?" Sherlock looked down at the man before him.
"It's just...look, can you change on robe, please?"
"If you give me one good reason, I will."
"You could trip, stepping the sheet. I could step on it and you could fall. It could be hooked to a corner and you will fall as you walk," John folded his arms on his chest.
"I have a great sense of balance and experience walking around like this. It won't happen."
"Or maybe, someone will come and drag you out without concerning your…" John eyed him from head to toe, to his face again, "glorious appearance, again. For God Sake, do you not learn from experience?"
"Does it bother you?" Sherlock raised his eyebrow.
"….." Another heavy sigh.
John walked more closer and stepped on the sheet, prayed that Sherlock would walk soon and the only consulting detective then would fall face down.
Though Sherlock didn't glance at the act, but the taller man knew what the foot was obviously doing.
"Does it really bother you that much? I could just drop it, you know."
"Go ahead." John said tiredly, staring back up at Sherlock.
Sherlock dropped the white sheet to the floor, his eyes locked on John's.
"There. Happy?"
John's jaw dropped.
"Oh my God, Sherlock!?" John didn't blink. "Bloody hell Sherlock you're not wearing pants!" John's face red than ever.
"Oh, did I forget to warn you?" Sherlock smirked, "Can I have my blanket back now?"
John couldn't close his jaw. He felt his leg so very heavy to be removed from the white sheet he was stepping on.
Sherlock tried to tug the sheet away from him.
"Will you stop gawking? Have you never seen a naked man?"
John suddenly realized that he's still staring at Sherlock's private area. Felt hit by shame, he lost balance and fell on his bottom as Sherlock tugged the sheet harder.
"Ouch!"
"What are you even doing? Sometimes I really think you're an idiot, John." Sherlock walked over to him and offered his hand to him. "Come on, get up."
And as John pulled up, still unbalanced, he slipped his step by the sheet, ended up crashing on to Sherlock.
"Damn..." Sherlock hissed at the pain in his back from the fall. "Will you get it together, John? What is wrong with you?" He looked the doctor over. "Are you all right?"
"Oh God sorry. Are you all right?" John asked before he went freeze. He fell on top of naked Sherlock. His thighs on Sherlock's hips.
"I'm fine. Might have my back bruised later... John, are you okay?" Sherlock nudged John's shoulder.
"Yes..yes I'm fine. Sorry. Here, let me see your back."
Sherlock turned around for him to look at his back.
"It's fine. It might bruise, but its fine. Why were you freezing like that?" Sherlock asked as John examined the silky skin.
"Hm? Nothing." John touched the skin to test it.
"You froze twice. I have to ask again; have you never seen a naked man before?" Sherlock shivered slightly under the touch.
"Of course I've seen naked man before. I'm a doctor, remember? Are you all right? You shiver." John put his hand flat on Sherlock's back. "Hm, there might be bruises soon. The rug's too rough for your bare skin." said John, biting his tongue not to add delicate to the sentence.
"I'm shivering because you're tickling me." Sherlock replied. "Does it bother you to see me naked, then, John?"
"No, it doesn't bother me. It just felt...awkward. You're ticklish?" John trailed his fingers on Sherlock's back.
"Stop that." Sherlock shook a little.
"Sensitive, huh?"
"Yes, sensitive skin. Runs in the family."
John tickled Sherlock's side more.
Sherlock fought his laughter, pulling John's hands away. "S-stop it."
"All body part? How about your front?" John encircled Sherlock's body from the back with his arms, moving his hands to tickle Sherlock's stomach.
"I-I said sto-op! John!" The detective tried to fight John, trashing a little.
"Ha ha Sherlock ticklish!" John declared to the flat, having so much fun tickling Sherlock. He discovered one the almost perfect man's weakness. John knew that God is wise and fair.
"John! S-swear I'll kill you! Stop this! No more tickling." Sherlock nearly yelled at him.
But as Sherlock dropped on his side, John's left hand accidentally placed to the detective's crotch.
"Sorry!" John froze; hand unrevoked from the crotch.
"No point in saying sorry," Sherlock didn't seem to take in the fact that John's hand was on his member yet. "I'll get my revenge."
"Well yeah try me." John snapped, taken by the challenge, forgetting his hand, "I'm not ticklish, Sherlock." And in remained irritate thought of not hitting Sherlock's jaw, John made a fist, squeezed Sherlock's member accidentally.
"Ahh...!" escaped Sherlock's lips as he felt the stimulation on his lower region. "J-john!"
"What?" John didn't realize what he was doing yet.
Sherlock took a deep breath. "You're... touching me..." He pointed at his length and John's hand around it. He could feel himself getting excited.
John looked down at the spot.
"Oh God I'm sor-" and the doctor felt the organ became stiff in his hand. "Sherlock?"
"What do you expect, you're touching it!" Sherlock complained. "Of course it's going to react!"
" But I thought you...you're asexual..." John tilted his head, confused. John tried to squeeze the member again in seek for reaction.
"Why would you think I wa-aah stop that!" Despite his words, Sherlock didn't move to remove John's hand.
John became very curious by this new discovery.
"But you never respond to any sexual stimulation. You didn't even respond to Irene's nudity that time..." John squeezed the member again. Just to test if Sherlock really wasn't asexual, John told himself mentally.
"I don't know why I didn't react to her. Too skinny, mayb- Joooohhn...! Will you stop it!?"
Unexpectedly, John felt hard. He hoped Sherlock would not notice the bulge which started to rise on his crotch. John froze. He pulled his hand from Sherlock and tried to detach himself from Sherlock before the consulting detective noticed anything.
"Good...you stopped." Sherlock moved slightly before John got away, still committed to his revenge. And then he noticed. "And this is..."
"Whatareyoudoing?!" John panicked.
Sherlock, as revenge, pressed his palm to the bulge. "Uncomfortable, isn't it?"
"S-stop it!"
"You didn't. Why should I?" Sherlock tortured him by rubbing the clothed erection slowly.
"Sher-Ahh!" John quickly put his hand on his mouth, to stop himself from moaning.
"Now you know how I felt." Sherlock grinned at him. He still had his own erection, but he seemed to forget it.
"Sherlock stop it right now! This is not for game!" John wondered if Sherlock even acknowledge the context of sexual.
"Experiment, then?" Sherlock suggested.
"Sherlock!"
Sherlock pushed himself over John. "Then why didn't you stop?"
"Ahh! I wasn't aware! Sherlock what are you doing? Get off me!"
"You weren't aware of what?"
"Of- of- what I did with my hand. Sherlock do you aware of our situation right now? You, naked, over me. What if someone come in and sees us? People might talk!"
"No one's going to come in now. And how could you not be aware of that!? You were squeezing it. On purpose."
John tried to slip out from beneath Sherlock, accidentally brushed his clothed member with Sherlock's bare flesh. "Oh my God!"
"Joohn, will you be still?"
"I- I-" So much for intimate friends, John dryly joked in his mind. He couldn't move though. Sherlock Holmes was straddling him. "All right, off you go."
When John thought Sherlock was about to rose up, he followed the gesture pushing his hips up to stand on his feet. What he didn't anticipate was that the stubborn must-always-be-the-top-and-not-follow- order dark haired man pressed down instead.
Both shocked and hissed simultaneously by the mishap act.
Too irritated and mad at the insane detective, plus the pent-up emotions and yearn from the long secret admiration toward the brilliant man, John dared himself taking the opportunity. He clawed Sherlock's back, pushing the detective down unto his aching body fully.
"Damn, Sherlock!"
"God John...!" Sherlock was pressed against John and he felt his member twitched.
John couldn't see Sherlock's eyes. He nuzzled his head to Sherlock's collar bone. Gasped and accidentally bit Sherlock's collar bone as he tried to close his mouth.
Sherlock moved his hips unconsciously.
"...Joohn, geez...! Ah!" The man gasped when he was bitten, and searching for retaliation, attacking John's earlobe.
"Sherlock..!" John gasped. He rocked his hips, encircling Sherlock's waist with his left leg. He trailed kisses Sherlock's collar bone and nipped the delicate neck.
"Stop moving! For f-" Sherlock didn't seem to be able to stop either. "Ah...!"
John put his hands on Sherlock's back, couldn't make any words. Sherlock was just moaned. One thing he had never known the man could produce before. He just made Sherlock created that sinful voice for him.
John flipped their bodies so that now Sherlock was beneath him.
"What are you..." Sherlock gave up, rocking his hips still.
John started kissing every inch of Sherlock's skin. And when he reached the face, John looked at those brilliantly austere grey eyes, saying, "Like it?"
Sherlock just nodded and leaned up to kiss John, pulling him down.
And their lips met for the first time. It was only a simple pressure at first, but then experimentally Sherlock brushed his lips to John's soft and warm lips. Slowly John opened his mouth to the innocence gesture and instinctively Sherlock started to kiss John properly.
That was their first kiss. It was a tender one, but so demanding in progress. John savoring it, kissing back the detective passionately. Devouring Sherlock's mouth.
Sherlock kissed back just as hard and passionate, his hands daring down John's back all the way. It felt pleasant and good and he felt his body tingling by the kiss. Battle of tongues soon followed.
While the other man caressed Sherlock's bare chest, slowly moving his hand down the south.
The doctor felt precum leaking against his own trousers.
Sherlock tried to pull John's trousers down but only snaked his fingers inside.
John rubbed the smooth and delicate skin displayed beneath him. He needed to feel Sherlock's skin against his.
A moment later John felt callused fingers slither in to his trousers, running in passing the pants' band. He pulled his body, looking down at Sherlock in the eye.
"Shall we continue this…" John paused in seek for a negative reply against the idea of carrying the act on. But nothing casted from Sherlock's mouth, so he continued the sentence, "on bed?"
"If we have to." Sherlock replied irritated that he stopped.
"Don't want your skin ruined by the rough surface." John pulled Sherlock up, dragged him hastily to Sherlock's bedroom, which was the closest. Meanwhile his fingers worked on his shirt's buttons.
Sherlock pulled on John as well, trying to pull off his shirt without unbuttoning it.
"Patient, Sherlock." But Doctor John was not on the patient department, too, right now. He pulled his trousers off of him.
"You should have just wear jumper today." Sherlock muttered while he was working on John's shirt. "Make this easier."
John rolled his eyes. As if this was planned.
Sherlock finally got rid the rest of John's clothing, groping and running his hands over the skin, coming to nip at his shoulders like the doctor had done to him.
John's legs turned into jelly as Sherlock licked his bullet wound mark in his left shoulder. He threw Sherlock to bed and fell on top of him.
"God, Sherlock..." John rocked his body, rutting his hips onto Sherlock's.
Sherlock was about to spat something at being pushed onto the bed, but just groaned at the friction.
"Yeah, John...?"
"Need...more..." John kissing and nipping Sherlock's neck alternately.
Sherlock wrapped his legs around John, keeping him as close as possible, panting.
John raised his face hovering Sherlock's, staring at him for a moment. Had he not been in army medical department, he wouldn't know how to do it with a man as it was John's first time with a man.
"John?" Sherlock noticed the uncertainty on the doctor's eyes.
Blinking, hail to his medical experience, John decided to try it. He put his fingers on Sherlock's lips.
"Suck."
Sherlock would have made a face if he knew what he was doing. For some reason he didn't. So he opened his mouth and sucked John's fingers, running his tongue all over them.
John's member twitched in anticipation from the warmth and for what would come next. His eyes kept locking on Sherlock, watching his intimate friend sucking his fingers sensually.
"Do you know that you look so erotic right now, Sher?"
Sherlock pulled away from the fingers for a moment.
"Sher?" The dark haired man went back to sucking the fingers, rolling his hips.
"Mm..." John lapped Sherlock's neck, nibbled at the spot on the back of flushed ear once in a while.
"I think that's enough.." John pulled out his fingers from the hot wet cavern.
Sherlock almost whined at the loss, so he leaned up to suck at John's neck.
"Ahh.." as he enjoyed Sherlock on his neck, John spread Sherlock's thighs wider and let one of his slick fingers traced Sherlock's rim.
Sherlock moaned, shivering from the touch, pushing his hips against the finger.
"Oh God!" John reached for Sherlock's lips and kissed him while he slid his index finger into Sherlock.
The finger paused as John felt the man beneath him stiffened.
John pulled out of the kiss.
"Okay?"
Sherlock whimpered at the intrusion, against the kiss, pulling John closer again and shoving his tongue in.
And then John remembered something.
The debates he had been having with Mrs. Hudson. The bet Scotland Yard people—Anderson and Donovan had set which he overheard long ago. The hurt voice from Sherlock's throat when he told John that the Adler woman had called him The Virgin.
"Oh my God. Sherlock, you've never done this before." John paled, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry did I hurt you."
The doctor was about to pull out his finger when Sherlock panted for a while before nodding.
"It's fine."
John bit his lower lip.
"John," Sherlock opened his eyes, "I trust you. Trust you wholly. And I want you to take me. Carry on." The dark haired man stroked John's cheekbone with his thumb.
John looked into the eyes. He had his trademark frown lines on his forehead. So Sherlock was interested in this kind of activity?
"Well, this breaks all the question then." John raised his eyebrows.
"What of?" Sherlock gripped John's hair harder, wanted to bring the delicious lips back to his.
"That you're asexual… Gay, then?" John raised an eyebrow, tilted his head a bit to the left.
"Neither." Answered Sherlock firm.
"Huh?" John tilted his head deeper to the left, confused.
The questioned man ignored John, pulling him back to claim the lips.
In instant John started to move his fingers in and out gently. He could feel the dark haired man smirked within the kiss.
"I'll add second finger in.."
Sherlock heaved with the motions. "Yeah, okay.."
John's fingers started scissoring in and out Sherlock's entrance.
The man beneath moaned as he was stretched.
"Gods... John..."
John licked the hard nipples, mouth-kissing Sherlock's chest to distract him from the pain.
Sherlock's breath hitched, but he started rolling his hips against the fingers, getting used to the feeling.
John added the third finger and moved them deeper in torturing slow motions. His middle finger accidentally touched a bundle of nerves inside.
"Oh God, John! What's that?" Sherlock almost screamed when a wave of pleasure surpassed the sting.
John smirked, pushed the bum again, and again while he tried to store the location into his memory. His free hand was stroking Sherlock's hair.
It's so tight inside and John couldn't stand the tempt no more. He pulled out his fingers.
"John?" Sherlock protested, liking the rub on the sensitive spot. "John...why did you stop? That felt amazing..."
John was showering Sherlock's face with kisses. Then he looked at the man beneath him. Pupils dilated, half lidded eyes, lips parted, face shone with desire and lust.
He did this to the emotionless man. Nobody had ever produced this reaction to the man before, as far as he knew. This man had never been touched by anyone before, to his acknowledge.
John was touching him now, in the very intimate way. He was the only person ever had the privilege of all this. But then, John himself never interested in men before. He examined men's bodies many times before, being a doctor, but they had never done anything to him. Never had he attracted to them as he was now intently to Sherlock.
Feeling confused, then touched and flattered, John whispered to Sherlock's ear,
"I'll bring you heaven next."
And John paused.
"Sherlock, do you have…um..something for…lubricant?" red faced John was.
"Lubricant? For what?"
"Ah…I think we better-"
Sherlock took a glance down and saw John was gripping his rigid member.
"Ah! That for. I have a tube of soothing gel in the drawer but I'm afraid I've used all of it for an experiment yesterday." Self-pleasure, must be, Sherlock thought.
"Well, I don't want for your first time without lubricant. Can't be good for your body." John bit his lip.
"Me? My body? What do you mean?"
"Huh?" John dumbfounded. But then he remembered that this was the man's ever first sexual experience. And here he thought Sherlock would know at least bit information about man-man encounter. Hadn't got any such issue case, then, probably. Or, Sherlock simply didn't interested nor cared about it, maybe..
"Well, this is how a man do it with another man. See, um..man gets his pleasure from his genital and prostate, so you put it on.." John was having difficulty in explaining it to Sherlock. It just felt awkward, that's all.
"Ha! Of course I know that. But I see… You need to touch my prostate with your genital." Faint blush brushed Sherlock's cheeks. There he thought taking him simply meant fellatio. He didn't think that the doctor would go this far. But Sherlock cared for and trusted him. And he wanted John. He wanted John to take him completely.
"Right. So, I'll um..take some lubricant in my room.."
"Unnecessary." Sherlock hooked his legs to John's thighs, pushing him down to him.
"Aahh.." As a good doctor of his, John would be against the idea of hurting his flat mate raw. To be honest, he had grown to care more than much to his one flat mate—ah correction, his intimate friend. He really didn't want to cause hurt even any tiny one. But he looked deep at those dilated pupils which were full of desire in Sherlock's eyes. Cursing mentally, John rubbed his head, gathering s as much precum and spreading it onto his member as lubricant.
When he felt his member covered all in precum, he touched Sherlock's entrance with the head.
"Are you ready?" John cupped Sherlock's cheek, feeling himself not ready.
"Not sure... But isn't it too late to chicken out?" Sherlock smiled to him, fully keeping trust to his best man. "Just push it in, John... I can't take the wait."
John bit his bottom lip for the umpteenth time that afternoon.
His eyes met Sherlock's and John watched Sherlock's face as he pushed the head in slowly passed the tight sphincter muscle of the rectum.
"Gods, Sherlock..."
Sherlock closed his eyes tightly, biting his tongue not to scream.
John waited for both of them getting used to the new hot and tight sensation.
"All right?" John stroked Sherlock's side. The other hand squeezed Sherlock's arm in effort to not begin thrusting his entire length immediately.
Sherlock waited, feeling his lower body stretched around a huge, hot, throbbing mass, until he thought that moving had to be better than staying still.
"..y-yeah...you can...move..." He gasped, "Damn, John you're huge...!"
"Sorry." John moved his left hand gingerly, massaging Sherlock's lower back, relaxing him, hoping to ease the pain. He saw the uncomforted and slight grimace expression on Sherlock's face. Guilty feeling and worry rushed in him. "We can stop if you want." He concerned.
"I said move, John!" Sherlock heaved out. "You're just huge, but for the love of God, move."
So John wrapped Sherlock's legs locked around him and began to thrust his entire shaft deep inside the detective cautiously.
Sherlock grunted and whined. Both men waited until Sherlock felt the pain became numb. As John moving slowly, Sherlock started moaning with every slow rub of John inside him.
Soon John began to thrust into Sherlock intently. He watched Sherlock's face in each thrust and each thrust pressed against Sherlock's prostate.
"How do you feel?"
Sherlock was trying to cover his sounds with his hand, his eyes still closed. But the more John moved, the more he hit that place which sent waves throughout his body. He panted, but released his own mouth. "Damn, John...! So... bloody... good, there..."
John watched as Sherlock moaning, alternately gasping, and watching as the man's body beneath him trembling on the bed. So open and vulnerable.
"God, you look beautiful, Sher...lock." John was showered with sensuous delight.
Sherlock called out for him.
"John... John... oh God, Joohn...!" Both palms dug on sheets.
John thrust harder and a bit faster, attacking Sherlock's prostate. He let out moans with every thrust, biting his lip in bliss.
"Oh God Sherlock! Ahh..."
Sherlock started crying out at each movement, hands gripping the sheets tightly.
John's left hand reached down to take hold of Sherlock's shaft and started stroking it. The other hand clutched on Sherlock's hand that was gripping the sheets tightly now.
"Sherlock..you..feel so good.."
Sherlock couldn't really put correct sentences together. Mind so blur and unfocused, calling for John again and again, between pants, moans and elegant swears. It's starting to feel light with John stroking him as well.
John gave him an affectionate smile, sliding in and out of Sherlock in rhythm of stroking him.
"You…definitely.." the shorter man stopped for a few seconds, "exquisite."
"God, John..! I-...I'm...!"
"Want me to stop?" John licked his lips, raised his eyebrows.
Sherlock shook his head furiously. "M-more...!"
"More?" John lit up, "You mean like this?" He thrust even faster and deeper. He's moaning uncontrollably.
Sherlock's back arched off the bed, head thrown and buried in the mattress, and a long, dragged cry of "Yeeesssss!"
John felt the muscles of his thighs straining. The mattress was shaking with every thrust as Sherlock was forced into. John breathed heavily, feeling near to the edge.
"Do you like the way I feel inside you?" John stroked Sherlock faster and tighter. In the same time he was trying to map the detective's inside. Really endeavored to memorize the exact magic spot for later. If there would ever be any next time.
"Oh Gods! Yes! John, yes!" were the last words out of Sherlock until it's just cries and moans, as he's almost crossing the edge.
"Gods Sherlock, you're so divine!" John thrust deeper and their bodies rocking together.
As he watched the man beneath him writhing and moaning and gasping, all because of him, John couldn't hold back anymore.
"Sherlock, I need...need...come..."
Sherlock cried out John's name, his back completely off the bed as he came onto them, his vision white and the strain and pleasure overflowing.
As John felt Sherlock tightened around him, he surrendered and released deep into Sherlock. Gasping the divinely man's name. He forced his eyes open to watch Sherlock's face as they both came.
Sherlock dropped onto the bed, having trouble breathing as he came down from the mind-blowing high. His whole body was shaking with aftershock. While the doctor came down from the high, fell on top of Sherlock.
A moment of solid silent. And both men finally able to hear the short rhythm of their breaths again. John pulled out of Sherlock, dropped his body beside him.
"Wow." John turned his head to see Sherlock.
Sherlock wasn't sure he could talk. His throat felt pretty raw and hoarse. He managed a low
"...John...", calling for the man beside him. He felt full as hell.
John rolled to his side facing Sherlock. He caressed the man's cum-covered chest.
"All right?"
"...not sure..." Sherlock panted. "...kiss me..."
"Hm, who knew Sherlock Holmes cuddle." John chuckled.
"If you must know, though it's irrelevant to our current state, cuddling highly efficient at reducing the effects of stress. The en-"
John sighed, pulling Sherlock closer so that they both lay by their sides. He buried his hand on Sherlock's damp hair and started kissing the taller man, in instant stopped the detective's rambling.
Sherlock kissed back weakly at first, still regaining his breath, but it grew in depth and strength with passion and desire.
As John kissed Sherlock with the same desire, he felt something tingling and warm grew inside him. The doctor dared not think of what it might be.
He, however, was aware that it was something that had developed for years in his heart, yet growing intensified from time to time.
Sherlock pulled away to breathe.
"...that was... amazing... I'll be sore... tomorrow... won't I?"
John smiled apologetically.
"I think so.." he reached up, pushed the damp curls away from Sherlock's face.
"...when I'm better..." Sherlock started, finally opening his eyes to look at John, "we're doing...this again..."
"Again?" John's face lightened up in surprise.
"...yeah. Maybe I get...a go on you..." he smirked.
John blushed furiously. "I- I- ...you do?"
"Would you let me...?" Sherlock's eyebrow rose.
John bit his lip.
Sherlock sighed.
"...a no then. It's fine..."
"NO! I mean," John whispered "yes.." He couldn't take his eyes on Sherlock. Suddenly felt too embarrassed. And hot.
"...really?" Sherlock lighted up with a smile.
"Well.. um.." John played his fingers on the cum smeared on Sherlock's chest, investigated the substance in the process. The man really needed to eat more. John made a self-note to force Sherlock have a proper meal tomorrow.
"...scared...?" Sherlock teased, leaning closer and pressing his forehead to John's head.
John was so embarrassed and flattered at the same time and he didn't know what to say. So he kissed Sherlock hard instead.
Sherlock was surprised, but kissed back, holding John's face in his hand.
John pulled back as the air was crucially needed for his lungs.
"You really meant it? Not something post-coital thing?" Great. Now John sounded like an insecure teen.
"What...? Doing it again...?"
"No," John chuckled, "I mean...that you..me.. uh.."
Sherlock blinked.
John flushed to his neck.
"Oh this is so embarrassing. I act like a fool puberty boy." John put his forehead on Sherlock's collar bone. "Though, I don't mind with the doing it again thing.." John whispered faintly.
"What is wrong with you John? You're not making sense..." Sherlock frowned, unable to understand.
"Uh, right. Sorry. Just ignore my rumble."
"...don't make me hurt you, John."
"Wh- like how?" John looked at Sherlock, raised his eyebrow.
"...don't test me. Tell me again, nice and clear."
"Tell you what?"
Sherlock imitated John from before,
"That you..me.. Oh this is so embarrassing!"
"All right, all right." John laughed at what Sherlock did. "Yes."
"...see what I mean? You make no sense." Sherlock complained. "All I got was the 'permission' to go again once I feel better. Beyond that, you're eluding me."
John smiled at Sherlock.
"...I don't like that smile of yours. You're mocking me." Sherlock made his best effort to turn his back on John.
"Oh come on, Sherlock..." John decided to let Sherlock have him his back and he spooned the man.
Frowning slightly, the doctor made self note mentally to look after Sherlock's back as he saw the skin started to make faint mark of bruises from earlier activity. He held Sherlock tightly, kissing Sherlock's back.
"No, sorry, I'm mad. You're not telling me. I'm pissed." Sherlock remained cold to the caresses.
"No, really, Sher, what do you want me to tell you? 'Sherlock let's do it again tomorrow because I think I'm addicted to you. In fact, why don't we do it again soon after you feel better tonight?' That, you want me to say, hm?" John kissed the firm shoulder.
For a moment there was silence.
"Sherlock? Am I misunderstanding you?" John stopped kissing.
"If that was what you were trying to say with your teenage mumbling, then yes. If not, then the mumbling, only translated so I can understand."
Ah, John felt now it's Sherlock who wasn't making sense. But of course, he never put to himself all things that made sense for Sherlock. Anyway, he stroked the sullen man's side.
"Fine." Really, John thought the one being childish was Sherlock. "We do this again… And again, since I'm fond of you..." John nuzzled into Sherlock's nape.
"I'm fond of you, too. Rather a lot..."
John smiled.
"This was quite enjoyable. Though tiring... But," Sherlock frowned, noticing something unmentioned inside his mind palace earlier, "My mind feels… Refresh."
"Good. Now sleep. You look exhausted." John kissed Sherlock's nape.
"Yeah. Night, John..."
"Good night, Sherlock." John encircled the dark haired man with his arms, pulling closer and pressed their bodies together.
While the taller man covered the arms with one of his and smiled genuine secretly, felt content with the warmth in all way that his intimate friend gave possessively.
John woke up with something wet licking his earlobe.
As he opened his eyes, Sherlock was pressing his body on top of him, having his way with John's earlobe.
"S-Sherlock? What are you doing?" John's eyes went wide.
"Hm?" Sherlock moved his mouth down, licking John's jaw line until his face hovering John's.
"Wh-" John stopped his word as he remembered what had happened last night. Oh, yeah.
"I forgot to ask you last night, John. Tell me," Sherlock ignored his doctor's question, "Why did you call me 'Sher'?"
John could feel his face burning and red to his neck. His body warm from the heat Sherlock's bare body shared and the gears on his head stopped working.
"Jooohn~" Sherlock rose a bit, demanding answer.
"Huh? What did you- Oh, it's- a... I don't know. It just came out. Maybe because it's simply shorter and faster to call you." John put his trademark frown on, trying to process something, everything. But then he remembered Sherlock's back.
"Ah, wait. Sherlock, your back. I'll take my bag to treat your skin." John raised his body up, pushing Sherlock who was on top of him as well.
He put Sherlock's dressing gown on after the detective gave him compliment about his glory form then walked out toward his bedroom.
A moment later John came back with a jar in hand and sat on the bedside.
"What's that?" Sherlock asked as he lay on his stomach, giving the doctor his back for the treatment.
John had to restrain himself from launching himself on top of Sherlock as he saw trails of his dry cum at Sherlock's upper thighs.
"A balm to heal your bruise." John managed to detach his eyes from the delicious view, opened the cap and started to rub the gel on the bruised skin.
"Ah, good. Now we have something proper for lubricant." Sherlock let out a long relieving sigh. "You know, John, having sex with you have released my tensions and refreshed my brain. So I have come to a conclusion that having sexual intercourse with you may—in highly possibility—be my ritual rescue to boredom and ruckus."
The jar of soothing gel almost slipped off of Doctor John Watson's grip.
IV. Science of Deduction
Sherlock Holmes was a high-functioning sociopath.
Sherlock Holmes never cared anybody. Never took notice of everybody. He had no social life.
Sherlock was a loner and didn't strive to make friends, although he valued those that he had. The detective was a heartless, emotionless human being. The man had once self-described as married to his work.
And then there was John Watson.
Sherlock considered John as his friend. The detective did have few that he considered as friend. But John noticed that the detective valued them none higher than him.
John saw that the heartless man wasn't that heartless at all, since him. Sherlock wasn't lack of emotion at all either, at least for John, he noticed.
Sherlock was oblivious or disdainful of love. John noticed Sherlock ignored the romantic interest that Molly Hooper, the laboratory technician at St Bartholomew's Hospital had in him. Even the flirts the dominatrix model Irene Adler gave never go responded by Sherlock.
Sherlock was not a whole-souled admirer of womankind. The only joy Sherlock derived from the company of women was the problems they brought him to solve.
However, the doctor never failed to catch the hostility look on Sherlock's piercing grey eyes every time the consulting detective caught a woman gave John any romantic signals.
Sherlock had no interest to women. So that must not be a sign of jealousy, John drawn a small deduction.
Then John came to realize.
Sherlock despised and threw cold war and harsh words toward all John's movie dates.
Sherlock wasn't interested to sex. And then Sherlock submitted to him.
How elusive.
So, as time went by he spent his life with the consulting detective, with much better observation and deduction skill now, John Watson discovered that Sherlock Holmes wasn't asexual or homosexual.
Sherlock Holmes was Johnsexual.
* * *
-You've been Johnlocked-