Another gunshot blasted through the wall of the lounge room in 221B. Sherlock placed the gun on the arm of his chair, not even wincing at the earsplitting sound. He was bored, of course. He and John had just closed the case of the dead Trombonist, Sherlock claiming it was the conductor who had enough of his forte's instead of pianissimo's. And being Sherlock Holmes, consulting Detective, he was spot on. He felt a self-satisfaction seeing the conductor getting thrown into the police van, and John gave him a congratulatory pat on the back. (Which Sherlock secretly relished in but didn't dare tell John that)
The kettle boiled in the kitchen and John poured two cups of tea, which he believed was their well-deserved award for the case they just solved. Sherlock was jumpy in his seat, tossing a little rubber ball in his hands. His incredible blue-green eyes followed the bouncy ball, much like a cat with a ball of yarn. John entered the lounge carrying the cups, and he set one down for his dear friend next to him.
"Always with the gun and the wall." John sighed as he relaxed into his cosy chair. Sherlock scoffed. It was obvious how close the two had grown when John wasn't the least bit surprised when he heard the gunshots.
"There's nothing to do, and the face was staring at me." Sherlock murmured as he glanced at the yellow spray-painted smiley face on the wall. One of the most brilliant minds in the world and he felt uncomfortable due to a painted cartoon.
"Why don't you play chess or read a book? Agatha Christie might interest you." John sipped politely at his tea. A deep chuckle came from Sherlock.
"What?"
"Agatha Christie? She's brilliant, but her books are wrong. Some of the situations and murderers are not even possible. I got into a deep conversation about this with my third grade English teacher, which resulted in a trip to the principal's office."
John sniggered at the thought of Sherlock challenging a teacher, into which he obviously got into trouble. It was typical of Sherlock to be like this. That was the reason the word "Cluedo" was not even allowed to be whispered in the flat.
Sherlock paused, his eyes tracing over John. He had begun to notice things in John he hadn't earlier, like different ways that John reacted to Sherlock. For example, not looking him in the eye much anymore. And when he did catch John's eyes, he would quickly look away, his face reddening and his throat clearing. The way John was positioned in front of Sherlock at the moment also caught Sherlock's attention. He was cross-legged, but his body was shielding away from Sherlock. Like he was trying to hide something. Sherlock grew more curious as his eyes swept more across John. John coughed awkwardly.
"Uh, Sherlock? You're doing the staring thing again. Not good." John smiled awkwardly before looking away at the magazine on the arm of his chair again.
"I've noticed things about you, John." Sherlock's deep, smooth voice sent chills up John's spine. But not bad chills at all…
"Oh? Like what?" His voice higher in pitch, as if he were pretending to be oblivious to what Sherlock was talking about.
"Your clothes… When you first moved in you didn't quite care what state your clothes were in when it was just the two of us in the flat. But now, your clothes have been immaculately cleaned. You're wearing cologne that I haven't noticed on you before, but judging by the frankly obnoxious scent of it, it's expensive. You haven't got a date tonight. Whom are you dressing up for?" Sherlock spoke quickly, leaning in closer with every sentence. John's face was a brilliant shade of red, and his eyes were frozen on Sherlock's quizzical expression. He slowly swallowed and nonsense words escaped his mouth.
"And judging by your reaction I'm deducing that you are trying to impress me." Sherlock's words cut into John, who felt more uncomfortable with every word Sherlock spoke.
"Well John, it's working."
And with that, Sherlock stood up and briskly walked over to the army doctor, who was confused and embarrassed. Sherlock swiftly bent down and captured John's face in his slender, pale hands. He pressed his lips gently against Johns and it felt as if sparks rushed into each other's bodies. John eagerly pulled Sherlock on top of him, one hand holding his neck and the other tied into Sherlock's delicious black curls. Sherlock's tongue began exploring John's mouth, sweetly licking and teasing. John let out a soft moan, which instantly drove Sherlock mad.
"I'm… I'm not gay." John escaped from his mouth before instantly kissing Sherlock with more severity.
"You're mine." Sherlock pulled away and growled at John. He looked down to the doctor's crotch, which had considerably swelled. A virgin hand crept down to John's package, gently palming the material. He could feel John's hard member underneath, which turned Sherlock on to the point of feeling the need to let his mouth explore John's naked body.
John seemed to have felt the same way, pushing off Sherlock and guiding him into the bedroom. Messy hands exploring each other's bodies on the way as well as energetic wet kisses. John pushed Sherlock down onto the mattress, a wicked smile spreading across his face.
"This is my first time, John." Sherlock's innocent eyes stared back into John's. John nodded, unbuttoning his own shirt before replying.
"And mine with a man." He said as he pulled down his trousers, his loose pants falling quickly with them. Sherlock froze as his eyes wandered over John's naked body. He noticed the gunshot wound on John's right shoulder, and made a mental note to be gentle. He reached out for John's abs, which was perfectly defined in the shadows. John's hard, throbbing cock caught Sherlock's attention, and with a swift movement Sherlock was on his knees, as John was still standing at the foot of the bed, and grabbed his member in ecstasy. His pleading eyes looked up into John's. John rolled his head back, letting out a soft moan. Even just the feeling of his dick in Sherlock's hand was amazing. Sherlock slowly pumped it once, a deep moan erupting from John. Sherlock's tongue flicked the head while he pumped his cock, and pre-cum dripping down the sides.
"Oh Sherlock, how the fuck did you… Oh god." John breathlessly moaned as he began thrusting into Sherlock's hand. Sherlock chuckled deeply, as he took John's cock fully into his mouth. Moans were getting louder from John, who gripped Sherlock's curls tightly in his hand, pushing his head further down his hard cock. Sherlock's other hand toyed with John's balls, squeezing them gently. This drove John insane.
"Fuck, Sherlock, I want to fuck you so badly." John looked down at Sherlock, holding his shoulders still with his shaking hands. Sherlock felt the need to obey John. He wasn't sure what brought this submissive persona out in him, but he secretly loved it. Sherlock pulled off his shirt and pants, and turned over onto all fours just for John. John studied Sherlock in his naked state. His perfect round ass pale and begging for John's dick, his arched back with his muscles well-defined, and his slender neck concealed with dark curls. John always hoped to see his roommate in this vulnerable state, and now that he did, he was going to enjoy every moment of it.
"John…" Sherlock whimpered as John placed a wet finger at Sherlock's entrance. John reassuringly stroked Sherlock's back as he slowly pushed his finger in further. Sherlock gasped at the new feeling, totally enthralled in bliss. John began moving his finger inside Sherlock, loosening the detective's tight hole. Sherlock moaned loudly as John hit his prostate. John fingered the nerve bunch, making Sherlock arch and cry out for more. John entered another finger, loosening the hole more so he was ready for John's cock. Sherlock's body shuddered under John's touch. John slowly removed his fingers from Sherlock's entrance, sweet sounds escaping Sherlock's lips.
John moved closer, holding Sherlock's hips tightly with one hand, the other pressing his dripping cock against Sherlock's entrance.
"Now John, give it to me now." Sherlock cried, looking back at John in urgency. With that, John slowly pushed the tip of his dick into him, a sweet whine absconding Sherlock. Sherlock pushed his body back onto John's dick, slowly riding him.
"Sherlock you feel so amazing." John gasped as he slowly thrust into Sherlock, gripping his hips strongly. John gathered speed, and the two men rocked into each other, their bodies syncing the rhythm perfectly. John gently slapped Sherlock's ass cheek, which drove Sherlock wild.
"Oh John, fuck you're so good, fuck me harder… harder… oh John… John… Yes…" Sherlock breathed, rocking into John with more urgency and force. John reached under Sherlock, holding his cock and pumping it with each thrust.
"Come for me Sherlock. Fucking come for me." John cried as he gave Sherlock a harder slap on his ass. Sherlock moaned John's name deeply, over and over again as John thrust faster.
Sherlock began to shake and shudder under John, his hole tightening. It felt incredible for John, who was so close to coming in Sherlock's tight hole. Sherlock reached out under him and delicately played with John's balls, and that pushed him over the edge. The two men came at the same time, their orgasms loud and rocking each other's bodies. John could feel Sherlock's hot come dripping down his hands, and Sherlock could feel John's equally hot come dripping out his entrance.
They both collapsed next to each other on the bed, sweaty, panting, and completely satisfied. Sherlock looked down at John, who swept a sweaty black curl away from his face.
"You are beautiful." John whispered, kissing Sherlock tenderly.
"I was wondering when you were going to make the move. And when you didn't, I thought I had better save the day." Sherlock murmured. John laughed softly.
"How long have you known?" He asked, curious that Sherlock always knew something and never gave it away.
"It's not hard to deduce."