Experiment

Author's Notes: I do not own Sherlock or any of its contents blah blah blah, you guys know the drill!

Enjoy!

I could feel Sherlock's eyes on me, raking over every inch of my body, taking in each movement, observing every breath; and I'm not afraid to admit I enjoyed the attention, relished it even. For the past three weeks this had become habit, after a day at work or a day on a case, the consulting detective and I would return home, Sherlock would sit in his usual chair, I would go about my usual routine, and Sherlock would stare. At first it made me extremely uncomfortable, but then I caught the look in Sherlock's eyes. Something about that look made a shutter run down my spine. It was a look I never thought I'd see in Sherlock's eyes…a look of lust.

I tried to hide the way that look always made me feel, but I was confident the genius saw right through my scheme. My cheeks would burn red, my breath would become heavy and ragged, my heart beat would run out of control, and depending on how far my mind would wonder sometimes I would end up with a problem that was hard to get rid of (pun intended). Nonetheless I would do the best I could to hide these symptoms, but as the weeks went on the charade was more of a challenge to hold.

I had known from early on how I felt about Sherlock Holmes. Though he had plenty of flaws and constantly drove me to the brink of insanity, I couldn't deny the way he made me feel. I tried playing it off in my mind at first, held back by the confusion I felt due to never having feelings for a man before. But over time I knew, I was in love with him. His intelligence was unbelievable, he gave me the excitement I needed out of life, he was quite possibly the best friend I ever had, and not to mention his body...After discovering these new found feelings, I couldn't keep my eyes from wondering. Every time we were on a chase I found myself staring at is ass, butterflies would well up in my stomach when a touch lingered or a look was held for a little too long, he crept into my thoughts whenever I was having fantasies or went on a successful date. Yes, there was no denying that I loved Sherlock Holmes, his body, his mind, and his soul.

I had started trying a few tricks to hide my unrelenting desire; biting my cheek to keep my face steeled, reading a book so I could place it over my lap if my thoughts became uncontrollable, making tea more often to get out of Sherlock's line of sight, checking the blog more often so I could have my back turned on the younger man, but eventually my composure would always slip and I'd have to excuse myself to got to bed…or sometimes to the shower.

By the fourth week of Sherlock's staring, I got a bit friskier. I began teasing my flat mate to repay for the endless observation. I would bend over to pick something up so I could show off one of my favorite assets, walk around in just a towel if I "needed something" after my shower, make my nightly activities a bit unnecessarily loud, and once I even "accidentally" slipped and fell into Sherlock's lap rewarding me the slightest growl out of the younger man's lips. What started off as an annoyance had actually become quite fun, even if I was getting tired of all this foreplay.

Then at week five things changed. At this point I had enough dirty dreams about my flat mate to supply a lifetime. But, that's when Sherlock's eyes stopped staring, my fun had ended. It was as if the past five weeks had just been a fantasy, that I had dreamt it all up. Then it hit me, oh god! Of course! I'm so daft…it was all a damn experiment! That prick really made me believe he had feelings for me, that he wanted me…all for a bloody experiment! Why didn't I think of this before?! But that look…oh that look, there's no way he could've faked that look. Or could he? God now I don't know what to think. But one thing I do know is that man brought my feelings out, I could've tucked them away before! Hidden it from him, but now he knows. That goddamned son of a bitch! Ugh! A bloody damn experiment!

A few weeks passed by and the detective and I went on, acting as if nothing happened. I went back to only thinking of my feelings for Sherlock in the privacy of my bedroom, and Sherlock went back to being his usual passive self. Things were normal at 221B…or so I thought.

I was making my tea as usual, having come home from a particularly rough day of work. Then I was being slammed against the wall, my whole body was covered. Every inch of me was accompanied by every inch of Sherlock.

"Sher-Sherlock? Wh-what are you d-doing?"

"What do thing I'm doing, John?" Sherlock's usually deep voice dropped another octave becoming preposterously more seductive. The look had returned to his eyes.

"I," my throat was suddenly very dry; I cleared my throat slightly to bring some of my composure back. "I don't know what you're doing."

"Well, as much teasing as you did," Sherlock pressed his groin into mine pulling a light moan out of me, "I would thing you would know exactly what I'm doing."

"Sherlock, I thought that was just an experime – "

Sherlock latched himself onto my neck, sucking and nibbling in the most enticing way. "Enough talking John," Sherlock's baritone voice lifted up. "Yes, it was an experiment, and my results clearly proved successful. You have just as much desire for me as I have for you."

"Oh thank god!" I let out, quickly switching our roles so Sherlock was the one trapped beneath me. He let out a moan as I began kissing him, releasing some of my pent up desires. "Bedroom?" I asked in barely a whisper.

"Quickly," Sherlock replied. We began moving towards his room, kissing deeply, lingering as our hands stroked each other's skin and explored all of the lines and curves that were still so new. By the time we made it to the door we were down to just our pants. We landed on the bed with him on top, straddling my hips. He attempted to keep his excitement at bay, tried not to buck against me. But I would tease and press up every once in a while, causing a moan to escape his mouth into mine each time.

His hands began to wonder along my body, from my shoulders then onto my chest. He followed his hands with his lips, kissing and caressing my skin. I threw my head back, my eyes shut, and my hand's in his messy black hair, as he slowly worked his way downward. He dropped onto his heels ripping my pants down and began stroking me with his fingers, seemingly cautious – the nickname the virgin briefly passed through my mind. He tried touching me in different ways, with his fingertips, with his whole hand…and with his lips. He began kissing me and licking up my whole shaft, then he opened up his mouth and completely took me in. The heat and wetness of his mouth, the softness of his lips and tongue…

I inhaled jaggedly, and exhaled a long deep moan of ecstasy. I began to press into his mouth, trying to be gentle and controlled. I moaned when he traded his hand for his mouth and growled when he traded back. His free hand caressed the curves of my ass. It felt so amazing and the familiar feeling began to pool in my stomach.

"Sher – fuck – Sherlock you need to stop."

Sherlock pulled me from his mouth for a moment. "What is John, did I do something wrong?"

"No Sherlock…" I breathed another ragged breath. "It's just that if you don't stop I'll come."

At that, Sherlock's innocent look of doubt changed into a smirk and he brought all of me back into his mouth. "Dear god Sherl-!" But I couldn't even finish my sentence. I went over the edge and completely let go, coming hard. Sherlock swallowed every drop and took me back out with a light pop.

I laid my head back onto the bed for a few moments recomposing myself; Sherlock crawled up next to me. I looked over at my detective and began to kiss him slowly, my desire quickly building back up. "It's your turn now love." A light shudder traveled through Sherlock's body, either from the pet name or the promise of what's to come.

I made my way on top of him, straddling his hips. I began a steady motion, pressing myself against Sherlock's hard groin, eliciting moans from him. He began pressing back and kissing me with more fever.

I brought my fingers to his lips "Suck," I instructed. He brought my fingers into his mouth, one at a time, making sure to get every inch. I pulled my hand out of his mouth and used his spit as a natural lubricant. Pulling his pants out of the way, I pressed my finger into him slowly stretching him out, though I knew it must hurt he seemed to enjoy it nonetheless. I continued my movements adding one, then two more fingers. Then I swirled around until I located that one sweet spot…the second I hit his prostate I knew, he let out a low guttural moan. God, I couldn't take this anymore, his moans were making me hard beyond belief.

"Please Sherlock...I need to be inside you now." I practically growled in his ear. He gave a simple nod in reply.

I let my penis drop down between Sherlock's ass and found the tight spot I sought. "Press outward," I said. "I don't want to hurt you."

I pressed against him until I felt his entryway relax and the slipped into him quickly. He was so damn tight inside, but the compression felt intensely pleasurable. I slide slightly forward and backward, keeping the movement small; waiting to feel a loosening in him, a sign that would tell me the discomfort had subsided to pleasure. I pushed further into him and then again, as far as I could reach. He cried out before clamping his hand over his mouth to stifle the sound. I began gaining a rhythm making my movements slightly faster and harder. I pushed to the hilt and he practically screamed. It was the sound of raw desire, no filter, no restraint. Electrifying. I pushed again and his muscled contracted powerfully around me, tight and strong.

"God, Sherlock, you're so fucking tight." I rumbled in his ear.

"Oh Joooohn." He moaned my name, no longer hiding any signs of his excitement. "John, make me come, please make me come John!" He begged.

I reached down and grabbed his dick, matching my strokes to my thrusts. It didn't take him long; he came hard letting out a series of my name "Johnjohnjohnjohn!"After a few more hard thrusts I followed behind, coming inside his perfect ass. Oh god Sherlock! I didn't even know if it was audible but I saw white lights dance behind my eyelids.

I pulled out of him, trying to be gentle in case he had become sore. I climbed up next to him and collapsed on the bed, both of us too spent to worry about the mess we made. I snuggled into his neck and he wrapped his long arms around me. We both dosed off in each other's arms, completely content.

I woke up the next morning in the same position, with Sherlock holding me tight. I laid a couple of small kisses on his neck, stirring him a little. He let out a small groan as I shifted up, not wanting to move from the comfortable position. After a few minutes of looking at his adorably distraught look, I obliged and cuddled back into his side causing a cute smile to spread across his face.

"John?" Sherlock whispered, his voice still thick with sleep.

"Yes Sherlock?" I replied in between a few more grazes along his neck and his chest.

"I love you." Did I just hear him right? Did the Sherlock Holmes just say that?

A huge smile spread across my face and I shimmied up his body a kissed him on his perfect lips, a deep lingering kiss filled with adoration. I pulled away and with utter joy, I could finally say it, finally let the words out that I've desired to say. "I love you too Sherlock Holmes."

~ This is my first smut ever so please review and tell me what you think! All criticism is welcome and appreciated, thanks! ~