This is my first fan fiction so please be kind. After watching a scandal in Belgravia I fell in love with Irene Adler because Sherlock was so adorable around her, almost human! I just want to point out that the second part of story is written right after the episode. And the beginning is repeated on purpose. Have fun!
John got out of the taxi from returning the files to Mycroft, still trying to adjust to the thought of Irene Adler being dead. He made his way up the stairs looking for Sherlock but instead found the living room torn apart. Books and lamps and little objects were decorated all over the floor.
"SHERLOCK" John screamed, Sherlock was busy being transfixed in his own disappointment. "SHERLOCK" yelled John again as his bedroom door swung open.
"Jesus, The room is a mes-" he paused and scanned Sherlock "are you nak- no, WHAT HAPPENED TO THE LIVING ROOM!" Sherlock simply lifted himself up with a distressed face.
John stopped "Sherlock… are you ok?" no response, "I just came back from Mycroft, so uh, you... ok with the whole, witness... Protection…?" John paused, waiting for an answer.
Sherlock took a deep breath, rolling his eyes "why would i care about her? She is in America isn't she?"
John sat beside Sherlock, buried under a blanket "well you're never going to be able to see her again" Sherlock looked away, "Listen if you ever want somebody to talk to you can-" "Talk about what?" Sherlock cut in quickly. John gave a sympathetic pat on the leg, reading too much into Sherlock's defensive attitude, thinking he was heartbroken and delusional decided to let him off the hook and slowly walked away.
Around an hour earlier, John just leaves to return the files.
Sherlock grinned as he recalled his knightly activities, slipping the phone -that John just gave him- into his desk draw, Sherlock smiled and saluted "the woman" as he picked up his violin and began to play the melody he wrote for her. The piece fought against the roar of the rain pouring outside, the song played throughout him blocking out every sound around, including himself, he could play forever, then a sudden familiar moan broke his concentration.
Aaaaahhhhh
Curious, he thought re-calling that siren; he peeked over the drawer finding Alder's phone untouched and tucked away. Even more curious he slipped his hand into his pocket to find his phone, no new messages.
He was intrigued by the sudden mystery, which eventually solved itself. "You called?" she asked in a deep, Smokey voice leaning on the doorframe for the living room "you composed that tune for me? How sweet of you Mister Holmes." He paused, surprised, not only of her, but of his inability to sense her in the room, he straightened his face to show no emotion and simply responded "Miss Adler."
"Please," she said "Call me Irene," she marched towards him, light make-up with fierce red lips, scanning her he noticed she wore a mock version of his trench coat -her hair invading the top half- and nothing underneath. "You like it?" noticing him scan her, she spun, "it's for you." Sherlock stepped back, smelling the scent of green-tea and expensive perfume, flustered and somewhat startled he bumped into the desk, trying to remain his cool he merely commented "i thought i told you to run."
The rain began to ease.
"Oh" she gasped, all seductive and silky, only inches from him, "i did run" pressing up against him now, almost whispering "oh how I ran" her lips caressed his ear, "to you."
Acting unfazed and nonchalant he spoke "What are you doing here?" she began to run her hands into to his shirt rubbing his chest, so soft and warm he thought. "Let's just say, this is my version of a thank you" she smiled as her hands began to softly claw against him, feeling his heart race, as she leaned towards his lips.
"I advise you to leave Miss Adler" repelling his face from hers, eyeing her coldly and pulling her hands out of his shirt, missing her warmth. "Don't you want Moriarty to give you a new nickname? I mean the virgin is so….." She smiled devilishly, "Harsh."
He froze, as his body tightened he began to give in, she slid her hands over his shirt beginning to unbutton, craning her lips into his. The kiss lingered on for a while, as she broke them apart she whispered "oh i love virgins, but don't worry my dear, I'll be gentle, my treat."
He's never felt any sort of sexual feelings, aside from the occasional masturbation, but that was for practical reasons, but this. This was for materialistic purposes.
Irene stepped back allowing herself some room to strip, she peeled off the trench coat and straight into her battle dress. He watched her, this time enjoying her voluptuous body; he never found nudity appealing until now. The way her nipples reacted to the blast of cold air, her hair flying for that split second as the coat landed softly on the ground, her stomach retracting, the goose bumps arising and her eyes glistening.
She leaped onto him, plunging her face into his, having him land on the table; she pushed all the books and knickknacks off the surface allowing them room to adjust, not once leaving the kiss.
She slid her hand past the remaining buttons; his shirt flew open, no longer apart of him as it fell to the floor. Sherlock, feeling the adrenaline, sunk his fingers into Irene's back and caressed the nape of her neck. She began to slip her tongue into his mouth biting his lower lips, tracing her hands slowly to his belt buckles, unzipping his pants, she could already feel him.
He let out an involuntary moan, smiling she leaned back, "wow you really are a virgin," Sherlock embarrassed of the comment, held his breath as she began to take things slower, staring deep into his pitch black eyes, surrounded by a thin line of ice blue.
She kissed him softly, the corner of his lips, his jaw, the side of his neck, his collar bone, his nipple, his ribs, slowly making her way down, feeling him hyperventilate with every touch. She found it so adorable.
He lifted his hips to allow himself to wriggle out of his pants, with the help of Irene of course. She watched as his erection flew out, shining with pre cum, wanting her, a wide smile on her face arose as Sherlock's face became infused with a blush.
She watched him sweat in anticipation, biting his lips, glaring at her, waiting for her, wanting her. She merely smiled and licked her lips, teasing him, rubbing only his thighs.
Her hands hovered around his hard prick, and then quickly gripping it, hard, she watched him as he flung his head back drowning in his own world of pleasure. His first ever touch made him breathless, he soon began to perspire as she rocked her hands slowly around his wanting cock.
He held his breath again, just watching Irene, never breaking eye contract, little moans tried escape but he kept them hidden.
"C'mon" she moaned with a smile, rubbing faster, "let me hear you scream," he refused to let that happen, but she wanted him weak in her hands. She widened her mouth, he watched her knowing what was coming, his heart raced out of control, the rain mocking each beat.
She kissed just the tip of his head, a soft moan escaped; teasing him she then began circling it with her tongue, tasting him. He became more vocal as her hand continued to tug. She watched him, so venerable, so pure and oh so very delicate, she couldn't help but feel superior as he grew weaker with every moan and groan.
He was in ecstasy, the faster her hand went and the deeper he was in her warm throat. He couldn't handle the bliss over whelming his body; he was on the verge of an orgasm.
She suddenly went slower, making him die inside, completely stopping. "I told you" she said so fiendishly "i would take you on this desk and make you beg for-"
His body couldn't hold in much longer, thrusting into her hand, he unleashed and a bit too quickly. He let out a large moan, completely blinding out the sound of the rain.
She paused, and busted out laughing, "oh you virgins" she chuckled to a huffing and puffing man, finding tissues to wipe herself, "always coming to quickly, you wouldn't even let me finish my sentence….. Or let me finish in general," The last comment made her laugh so hard, almost to tears.
His face was red from embarrassment, still unable to breathe calmly.
"Wow" she laughed watching him trying to regain a peace of mind, putting on her coat, "you're still a virgin... Something's never change."
She slightly packed up the area, rummaging through his things, paralysed and still dazed from his first real orgasm he turned away, unable to watch her, let alone look at her.
Walking towards the exit she paused by the doorframe, "oh Mister Holmes, you failed your exam miserably! Naughty boy….. Get really for your punishment" she slid away, beginning to make her way down the stairs she yelled "Thanks for saving my life and everything, till next time…. virgin."
His heart sank at the gesture, his pulse beginning to slow down, his breathing became tolerable. He finally got up, only to collect his clothes leaving the room a mess; he soon washed himself off, then collapsed into his bed attempting to forget the most embarrassing moment of his life.
"SHERLOCK" John screamed, Sherlock was busy being transfixed in his own disappointment. "SHERLOCK" yelled John again as his bedroom door swung open.
"Jesus, The room is a mes-" he paused and scanned Sherlock "are you nak- no, WHAT HAPPENED TO THE LIVING ROOM!" Sherlock simply lifted himself up with a distressed face.
John stopped "Sherlock… are you ok?" no response, "I just came back from Mycroft, so uh, you... ok with the whole, witness... Protection…?" John paused, waiting for an answer.
Sherlock took a deep breath, rolling his eyes "why would i care about her? She is in America isn't she?"
John sat beside Sherlock, buried under a blanket "well you're never going to be able to see her again" Sherlock looked away, "Listen if you ever want somebody to talk to you can-" "Talk about what?" Sherlock cut in quickly. John gave a sympathetic pat on the leg, reading too much into Sherlock's defensive attitude, thinking he was heartbroken and delusional decided to let him off the hook and slowly walked away.
Sherlock could only hear her sleek voice echoing in the back of his head "virgin."
"Oh John" Sherlock called out.
...
"Can i borrow your laptop?"
"Uh, sure" John yelled back, a distant sound of rummaging then John appeared before Sherlock handing him the laptop, offering a pitiful smile.
He stood there studying Sherlock thinking he needed to be alone to recover from the "loss" of Adler, "so I'll be going out for a bit, until you're ready to talk-" "There is nothing to talk about," Sherlock snapped angrily. John loudly sighed "fine" and began to leave.
Waiting for the front door to shut, Sherlock turned on the laptop about to open a file then…
Aaaahhhh
Sherlock froze and quickly ran searching for the source of the sound, creating a larger mess, he found it. He grabbed his coat which smelt of her, she must've swapped it; slipping his hand into the pocket it revealed a new text.
New number . Dinner was a little disappointing, I'm still hungry.
He threw the phone back into the pocket of his coat and dragged his way back to his bed, towards John's laptop. "its porn OK Sherlock?" read the title of the folder, opening it to find contents of erotic videos.
"Till next time" he recalled, remembering her defined face, he simply thought to himself….
I need practice.
To be continued