The Milky Way

"For heaven's sake, Holmes. It's Jupiter! The biggest planet in the Solar system is Jupit— Oh, you know what? Never mind," Mr Watson takes off his reading glasses and runs a hand through his face. "I don't see the point of asking me to teach you if you don't want to learn. You have such a brilliant brain, Holmes. This should be— It's primary school stuff! It's amazing that a nineteen-year old gets to University without knowing this!"

Sherlock frowns and looks down at his hands, his blue ball-point twiddling around in his fingers. "But I want to know. I can't fail Physics!" he looks up and meets the professor's eyes. "Please, Professor Watson. Give me another chance."

The elder man chuckles. "We've been stuck in here for about two hours now and all you got was 'Mercury, Venus and that one with the rings' which, by the way, is wrong," Mr Watson sighs. "Why don't you take a break? We can try it again tomorrow."

Sherlock stays silent for a while, considering this option. When he looks up, his eyes meet Mr Watson's. They just remain silent for a few minutes, looking at each other.

"It's boring," Sherlock says after a while. "It's just plain dull. There must be a way to make this a bit more captivating."

Mr Watson smiles and leans back on his chair. Then he nods, turning on the computer on his desk. "I've noticed you have an incredible visual memory. Maybe if you see the subject of study as we discuss its properties it will make it easy for you to remember."

Sherlock gets up and walks around Mr Watson's desk, watching as the professor fires up the internet browser and types 'Solar System' in the search engine. Not two seconds later the window is full of images of big, colourful globes.

"Oh…" Sherlock murmurs. Maybe this could work after all. He places a hand on the arm-rest of Mr Watson's work chair and leans forwards to take a better look.

"How much do you know about Roman Mythology?" Mr Watson asks with a smirk, looking up at Sherlock.

The young man shrugs. "Not much. Just the names of some gods, and that it is very similar to the Greek Mythology."

"It's a good start. What gods do you know?"

Sherlock sighs, trying to see how in the world is Roman Mythology relevant for the learning of the Solar System. Anyway he looks at his professor and is greeted with a pair of warm dark-blue eyes, looking back at him. He pauses for a moment, virtually lost in that deep gaze.

"Well, I know Juno, and Janus…" Sherlock starts. "There's also the one with the flying slippers… umm… Mercury— Oh..." realization finally catches up with him. "I see…"

Mr Watson's eyes shine a bit brighter. "And…"

"And Venus is the goddess of love and beauty, isn't she? And Neptune is the god of the seas, isn't there a planet named Neptune?"

"So you do know some of them. Now take a look at this," Mr Watson clicks a couple of times on a picture and Sherlock bends down further. "According to Mythology, Mercury was the messenger of gods. So the first planet of our Solar System was named after him, because it is the faster planet of the eight."

"I beg your pardon sir, I see nine planets there," Sherlock remarks, gathering his brows in a scowl.

Mr Watson chuckled. "Yes, true. Pluto was demoted. We'll get there. Try to focus on the ones that still are considered planets for now, okay?"

Sherlock nods. "So, why is Mercury faster than the others?"

"Because it's closer to the sun. The closer a planet is from their star, the fastest it completes its orbit around the sun. It takes days for Mercury to complete what we call a year. Want to guess?"

Sherlock smiles. "Eighty?"

"Eighty-eight."

"Well, in the Periodic Table, Mercury is the eightieth element. It was a shot in the dark."

"A good one, though," Mr Holmes laughs and sighs before proceeding. "So, The second planet is, as you know, Venus— "

"Yes, because it's a pretty planet, right, I get it," Sherlock sighs impatiently.

Mr Watson smiles gently. "Look. I know it sounds dull for you, Holmes, but you were the one who asked me to teach you this stuff. Stuff that you should already know! I mean, you know the bloody Periodic Table by heart, but you can't name the planets on the Solar System? I'm just trying to help you here. Believe me, if anyone should be bored in here, that someone should be me, not you."

Sherlock turned around to him and leant his hips against the wooden desk, looking intently from Mr Watson's eyes to his lips. "I know. But, I don't see the point of it. So they're named after gods and go around the sun! If they were named after the Spice Girls and went around the A41, it wouldn't change anything! It's unimportant information," he roared, frustrated. "I don't know how this is ever going to be useful in the future."

"Maybe if you stopped staring at my lips like that, you could actually focus on the point here. The fastest you get them right, the fastest you leave," Mr Watson says, looking up to lock their eyes.

Sherlock freezes, the dread of being caught paralyzing him. "W-what? I- I have no idea of what y-you're talking about."

"Oh, come on, Holmes. You think I haven't noticed? The looks you pin on me during my classes, the way your pulse increases in your carotid artery when I get near? Look, it's fine, there's no need to get fussed about it. I just want you to concentrate on this," Watson motions to the animated image of a rotating planet Venus.

Sherlock doesn't break the eye contact when the professor gets up and takes one step towards him. He just stays there, wondering how it would be like to feel the older man's rough hands on him. His eyes widen as Mr Watson places one hand on his shoulder.

"Go home. Have some rest, we can continue other day, okay?" he says, gently.

Sherlock's hand moves before his brain even registers the command. "No," he says, curling his fingers around the professor's wrist and closing his eyes as he feels the pulse under his soft, tanned skin.

"Pardon?"

"No. I don't want to go home and rest. That's almost as useless as the Solar System. I want to know this."

Watson nods and turns to face him, looking up to meet the bluish-greenish-every-god-damn-colour-ish eyes of the younger man. He smirks before getting closer. "Okay. Quiz time, then. First planet of the Solar System."

Sherlock swallows the sudden lump that had formed in his throat. "M-mercury," he whispers in something between a whine and a groan.

Mr Watson's lips quirk in a smile and he leans forwards, his lips ghosting over Sherlock's, not quite touching. "Good. Next?"

"Ve-venus…" comes the low murmur.

Watson's lips brush softly on Sherlock's. "Nice. Very nice. And after that?"

Sherlock is feeling a bit light headed, but it sure feels amazing. He tries to press their lips firmly together and exhales when the older man complies, kissing him back. God, his lips were so soft. He parts away slightly. "Mars?"

Watson's hand travels down from Sherlock's shoulder to the small of his back. "Mmm, try again," his lips roam over the fair complexion of Sherlock's neck, nibbling his skin up to the soft spot below his ear. "Come on, Holmes. Try again."

"Saturn… Oh God," the lad cocks his head to a side and his hips roll, looking for some kind— any kind of friction.

"No," Mr Watson grinds his hips on Sherlock's smiling as he feels the already hard bulge on his trousers. "Hmmm, start over," he purrs flicking his tongue on the lobe of Sherlock's ear.

"Jesus…" Sherlock's hands urgently wrap around the professor's waist to grab on the man's arse and he pulls him closer. "Mercury… Oh God," Watson's teeth dig on the crook of his neck. "Venus, umm, Earth?"

Mr Watson starts to unbutton Sherlock's tight shirt, the button's almost popping with the relief of being freed. His lips tease on the hollow between the lad's collarbones, before going down to taking one of his pink nipples in his mouth and sucking it gently.

Sherlock sneaks one hand underneath the hem of the man's jumper and he grabs a fistful of the shirt underneath, pulling it up from inside his trousers. He lolls his head back as Mr Watson's mouth transfers to his other nipple, giving it equal attention. God his own slacks are so impossibly tight.

"So good…" Sherlock moans, right as Watson's hand cups his erection through the rough fabric of his trousers. "Yes…"

"What comes after Earth?" Mr Watson asks in a breathy whisper, as he shrugs off Sherlock's shirt. His fingers work on the fly of Sherlock's jeans, slowly and teasingly. "Don't worry, take your time."

Sherlock bows his head down and pulls the man up to meet him half way in a hungry, desperate kiss. He parts his lips, forcing the professor's to open as well. His tongue slides inside the man's mouth and a fierce battle for control takes place between moans. Mr Watson finally takes the upper hand by sliding his hand through the waistband of Sherlock's pants and curling his fingers around his prick.

"MARS! Oh Jesus fucking fuck…" Sherlock moans, desperately rocking his hips towards Watson's touch. His hand shoots up to grab a fistful of Watson's hair. "More… please…"

"No," Mr Watson says calmly, his voice rough but steady. "Not until you tell me the rest. What comes after Mars?"

"What… comes Uranus?"

"No. I'll be coming in your anus if you tell me the rest correctly. In the meantime, try again," Watson tightens the grip on Sherlock's shaft and starts stroking him slowly and lazily.

"G-god… Jupiter? Please let it be Jupiter."

Mr Watson hums in agreement. "Yes, Sherlock… what next? Come on, it's almost over…"

"The rings… the one with the rings!" he roars. "Oh, what's it called…?" he throws his head back at the feeling of Watson's lips on his throat. "Saturn!"

The professor starts stroking him harder. "Two more to go… and then you'll have whatever you want, Sherlock."

"Uranus and Neptune! Please just fuck me already!"

Mr Watson smiles, kissing him urgently before turning the young man around and bending him over the desk, discarding his shirt. He bites his lower lip, gazing marvelled at the marble-toned skin of Sherlock's back. He leans in to kiss him starting on the nape of his neck and then all the bumps of his spine, down to the two hollows on the small of his back.

"You are beautiful," he breathes, rolling his hips on Sherlock's firm arse – still hiding inside the dark fabric of his jeans – and moaning at the friction. His hands pull both trousers and pants down to Sherlock's knees and another groan escapes his lips. "My God, beautiful is an understatement."

Sherlock closes his eyes, letting the words sink in. He feels Watson's hands on his buttocks, caressing, spreading them apart. "Oh, yes… Yes…" he grunts laying his head on his forearms, folded on top of the wooden desk. He rolls his hips backwards, urging the older man to just do something already, and in return he feels two rows of teeth biting on the soft skin on this left butt cheek.

Watson's tongue slides to the crease of Sherlock's arse and his hands part his thighs as far as the restraint of Sherlock's jeans on his knees let him. He looks at the pink puckered hole clenching tightly and a shudder runs down his frame. He leads one finger to the tight muscle of the young man's anus and gently teases him, smiling as he hears a moan form above. Watson fills his mouth with saliva and then he all but spits right in his opening.

"Holy exploding neutrons…" Sherlock bites his lip so tight it almost draws blood. "Again… Do— do that again."

Mr Watson brushes his tongue on his own lips before spiting again. Then he slides the tip of one finger in Sherlock's tightness and… "Oh, Jesus. You're so deliciously tight…" he murmurs, laying his head on the small of his back and biting the skin there. He pulls his finger in and out, listening to Sherlock's baritone groaning at the sensation. Watson takes his time, carefully preparing Sherlock, so he wouldn't feel too uncomfortable when the fingers were replaced by his aching cock.

"There! Oh, yes, right there!" Sherlock yelps when the fingers press on his prostate. His back arches and his head snaps up. He looks back and locks eyes with the professor's. "I w-want you. Please…" his voice is little more than a desperate whisper.

Watson nods and removes his fingers to lower the zipper of his trousers and pull them down to his ankles, along with his briefs. His cock springs free and he sighs with relieve, feeling warm blood circulating in his body again. And God strike him dead, he was leaking already.

"Hurry up! Come on!" Sherlock growls impatiently, bucking his hips.

"Hush," Watson runs a hand through the young's back, soothingly before leading the tip of his cock to his entrance. He eases himself inside Sherlock's warmness, both of them groaning loud.

Sherlock tilts his head back and breathes out a faint "More," before letting his head fall to his arms again.

Mr Watson pushes in a bit more, feeling the lad stretching inside, adjusting to his thickness. "Goodness. So tight," he says, planting a kiss between Sherlock's shoulder blades before pushing in completely.

Then he starts to move, slowly and steadily, placing his hands on both sides of Sherlock's hips to aid on his thrusts. The noises Sherlock is making are hardly human, but each and every breath he takes, each moan he makes, go straight to his throbbing groin.

Sherlock bucks firmly against Watson's hips, creating harder thrusts. They are gaining a nice, steady rhythm and quickly any trace of pain he had felt is completely overpowered by the blinding pleasure of hard flesh hitting prostate.

Watson circles his thumbs on Sherlock's tender flesh spreading him further apart and looking down to watch as his prick disappears inside him. "Oh fuck… Fuck!" he's so past the point of caring about language. "So fucking Gorgeous," he says, quickening his pace and tossing his head back, closing his eyes.

The sound of heavy breathing along with flesh on flesh and muffled groans and whimpers fill the space of the empty classroom. About fifty-eight sitting places completely vacant, oblivious of cloud of pleasure and bliss that was surrounding the two men on the end of the room.

"Close… I'm close," Sherlock moans bringing one of his hands down to curl around his hurting erection. He starts stroking himself in tempo with the professor's thrusts, thumb flicking around the head, wiping the pearl of pre-come that insists on forming. "Oh, harder! Harder!"

"Oh, God yes," Watson straightens his back and thrusts harder into the young man. The exquisite friction begins to lead both of them to the end of the cliff.

Suddenly Watson stops, deep inside Sherlock. "What's the name…" he says at length as he slides off him ever so slowly, "… of our galaxy."

"What? No…please don't do this to me. I want to come. Please!"

"Answer," Watson rolls his hips, the only contact between him and Sherlock is the head of his cock still inside him.

"The…ahh… Fuck it I don't know," Sherlock whimpers, tightening the grasp on his prick. "Oh, please let me come."

"I'm waiting…"

"The Scarlet Galaxy?" Sherlock shoots blindly.

Watson thrusts inside him hard and fast, earning a shout of pleasure from Sherlock's lips. "Try again," he murmurs repeating the drag out.

"The Emerald Way?" Sherlock guesses.

And Mr Watson repeats the treatment, thrusting even harder and repeating the process. "Come on Sherlock. If you want to come, you have to work for it," the professor says between pants.

"Yes… No… Oh Jesus…" Sherlock whimpers, trying to catch his breath. "The…" he hesitates, trying to reach all the folders in his brain for a suitable name. Then something seems to click. "The Milky Way!"

Watson thrusts inside him again, steady and quick, and then Sherlock feels his orgasm overpowering everything, blinding him, rushing wildly through his skin and spreading all over his body, warming him and making him shudder at the same time. "Fuck yes! God yes!" he strokes himself as his semen shoots to the wooden table and all over his hand.

Sherlock's voice reaches Watson's ears and runs straight to his cock, and a couple of thrusts later he's coming, copiously, inside the tight comfort of Sherlock's body. His body teeters and he lets himself fall forward, placing his head between Sherlock's shoulders. "Fuck. You're so beautiful, Sherlock."

The young man grins, panting hard as he tries to catch his breath. "Mercury… Venus… Earth… Mars… Oh Christ… Jupiter… Saturn… Uranus… and Neptune… Eight planets that are part of the Solar System. Seven are named after Gods of the Roman Mythology. And then there's Earth. And The Solar System belongs to the Milky Way," he mutters proudly.

Watson kisses is neck and shoulder and basically every inch of skin his lips can reach. "Mmm, very good. I'm proud of you, Holmes," he slides off Sherlock and falls back on his chair, not bothering with pulling his pants or trousers back up.

Sherlock straightens up and lets himself fall on the floor, laying his head on Watson's knees. "You still have to tell me why Pluto was demoted. And I am completely at lost with the constellations, Professor."

"Don't worry," the man says, running his hands through the lad's soft strands of hair," We can revise that tomorrow, yes?"

"Sounds good," he falls silent, pressing his lips on Watson's thighs. "I'll bring the lube."

"I look forward to it."

A/N: Yes. I know. my p0rn is showing. Please review.

To: Wife Viv... Because of oh-so-many reasons

*Bloo*