A/N *Gasps* What is this? I wrote Johnlock? Well, it was my original ship, then Mystrade happened, and Sherstrade and basically anything with Lestrade in it, because he's just so damn hot and edible and - yeah, sorry, I got sidetracked. Right, back to the point, Johnlock.
Enjoy me ducks, as they say where I live!
"John..." The word was little more than a groan. John smiled as Sherlock writhed beneath him. "John, please..."
"Shh, patience love..." John murmured, stroking a hand down his lover's body achingly slowly, letting his fingers bump lightly over each too-prominent rib. That would change now he had the other man back under his eye... Not to mention under him. A good fucking did seem to do wonders for Sherlock's appetite. He chuckled at the thought, then he leaned down and pressed his lips against his partner's long pale throat. Sherlock gave another groan that went straight to his cock. Honestly, if he wasn't so busy having sex John would have wondered how someone from such a proper background could make such pornographically filthy noises. Instead of wondering, he shifted his weight onto one elbow and, while his teeth grazed across that throat, his left hand groped on the bedside table, discarding everything it found until he felt the familiar tube of KY against his fingertips.
At the first touch of John's slick fingers against his hole, Sherlock bucked his hips against the probing digits, filthy curses falling from his lips mingled with pleas.
"You're so beautiful like this, Sher..." John murmured, obligingly slipping his index finger past the tight ring of muscle. "Laid bare..." a second finger joined the first, scissoring gently. "all wanton..." Sherlock moaned a little at the intrusuion of the third diget, but pushed back against it unashamedly, fucking himself on John's fingers.
"Please..." he repeated, and this time it was almost a sob, and John was the one groaning "so beatiful, Sher," he repeated as he withdrew his fingers "begging for my cock..."
"Yes, John... Please..."
"Of course my love." John murmured as he lined himself up and slid inside with one long fluid thrust. He stilled for a moment to allow the younger man to adjust to the sensation of being filled. "Don't ever leave me again, Sher..."he murmured against Sherlock's skin, pressing another kiss against him, on his collar bone this time. "I can't survive it a second time."
A million answers ran through Sherlock's head in that moment, even as John began to move inside him, answers ranging from another apology to a blunt 'you know my reasons' via things so sickeningly gooey that John would probably think him ill. Instead he whispered: "I promise."
John looked up and smiled at him, and suddenly he was filled with the urge to correct him, remind him that he was the blindingly beautiful one. Raising a hand from its current resting place - cupped around John's left arse-cheek - he stroked his face from forehead to jaw "I love you." He murmured as their mutual climax raced closer. "With all I have, until time stops."