They burst through the door, Sherlock and John did, panting and laughing with great big grins painted across their faces. John bent over to catch his breath, leaning his arm on the wall like he always did.

"That was insane, Sherlock, truly insane. A nightclub DJ kills people using drugged fog and strobe lights? Completely mental!"

Sherlock chuckled, his deep voice dropping a bit more than usual as he observed John leaning against the wall. "He dropped the bass and the crowd almost died."

John snorted and put a hand to his mouth, trying to stifle his laughter. "It's not funny!" He protested through bubbles of laughter.

Sherlock laughed with him. "I think you should try to 'drop the bass,'" he grinned. "You could shave half your head and wear those ridiculous glasses, though you'd probably have to use more than two fingers on the computer."

He had almost gotten a hold on his laughter when Sherlock started laughing and poking fun at him. Something about the genius' laugh made him giddy and he roared with laughter alongside Sherlock. "I'd have to pierce my lip too," he laughed.

Sherlock snorted. "Drop the bass, John! The crowd is waiting!" He gestured to the empty doorway.

John turned to the doorway and cleared his throat. "Ahem! WUBWUBWUBWUB SCREEECH WUB WUB WUB DUBDUB WUB!"

Sherlock roared with laughter. They both doubled over, cracking up like a couple of teenage girls.

Sherlock stopped laughing before John did. He considered his doctor, his roommate, his only friend, really, and made a snap decision he had been considering for a long time.

He pressed John against the wall and kissed him.

John's brain short circuited. Sherlock was kisssing him. Sherlock's lips were moving across his and oh, god, was that his tongue?-

"John," Sherlock mumbled into his lips. "Is this okay?" He punctuated his words with a bite to John's lip or a thrust of his hips.

"Oh, god yes," John moaned, placing his hands on Sherlock's waist and pulling him closer.

An animalistic groan escaped Sherlock's lips when their hips crashed together and their erections rubbed together. Sherlock grabbed John's hands and held them above his head. He pushed his hips into John's and bit his neck. Using his free hand, he unbuckled John's trousers and pushed his hand inside.

John gasped as Sherlock squeezed his hardening member. He rested his head against the wall and bucked his hips.

Sherlock detached himself from John's neck and met John's eyes with a hungry stare. "Bed?" He asked, praying to every nonexistent deity he could think of that John would come with him.

John blushed. "Uh, have you ever, I mean you arent-"

"I've done this before, yes. Will you come upstairs with me? Please?"

John was chewing his lip nervously until Sherlock said please. It was so strange and out of character and vulnerable that John wanted to take him right there on the stairs. "Alright. Let's go then," he said with a smile.

Sherlock pulled John up the stairs and into the flat, barely pausing to lock the door before crowding John into his bedroom. He pushed John onto the bed and crawled on top of him, pulling at John's jumped until it came over his head.

Sherlock observed the new expanse of skin to be catalogued and stored for later retrieval and dove down, biting and sucking every inch of John he could reach.

"Ah, Sherlock, too many clothes, oh, god yes, do that again," John mumbled incoherently. Sherlock paused for a few brief seconds to unbutton his shirt and pull it off before diving back down.

Sherlock's mouth was still biting and sucking, but his hands had different plans. He used his left hand to find the bottle of lube he kept in his dresser drawer and the other hand to push John's trousers and pants down to his ankles. John gazed down at the top of Sherlock's head and groaned as Sherlock grasped his erection with his right hand.

Sherlock coated his left hand in lube and moved his mouth lower, lower, lower until his lips brushed John's cock. John's hips bucked up reflexively.

Sherlock smiled and pressed the tip of one finger against John's arse. "Okay?" He asked, waiting until John nodded before pushing the first finger into John. He took John's cock into his mouth at the same time and sucked.

"Ahh! Jesus, Sherlock, MORE," John moaned, pressing back on Sherlock's finger. Sherlock added a second and used his knowledge of human anatomy to find the little bundle of nerves that would make John-

"GOD, SHERLOCK!" He yelled, the nerves in his body on fire. "Again!"

Sherlock scissored his fingers a few times before adding a third finger and pressing John's prostate again.

"Sherlock," John growled. "NOW."

Sherlock pressed the head of his cock against John's anus and entered slowly, inch by inch. John's eyes closed and his mouth opened in a breathy moan.

"John," Sherlock whispered, caressing the side of his only friend's face. "John, look at me."

John's eyes fluttered open and inhaled sharply when he saw Sherlock's pupils dilated so much that they were nearly black and his face pink from exercising the self control of not moving. He reached up and buried his hands in his lover's hair and pulled him down for a slow building kiss. John pulled back after a minute of this and growled "Move." in Sherlock's ear.

Sherlock groaned and pulled almost all the way out before pushing back in slowly, brushing lightly against John's prostate as he did so.

John leaned up and bit Sherlock's earlobe. "You can go faster," he murmured. "I won't break."

Sherlock groaned and snapped his hips, stretching John out and making him moan.

All cognitive thought had left Sherlock's mind. The only thing he could remember was John - how good John smelled, the delicious noises he made and that particular spot at the base of his neck that made him shudder. Sherlock decided to lean down and bite on a particularly hard thrust that hit John's prostate head on.

"Oh, god. Oh god. Again. Again. HARDER!" John moaned as Sherlock pounded into him. Sherlock groaned and reached down to grasp John's prick.

"Come on, John. Come for me," Sherlock purred in John's ear. "Let go."

John cried out, thick spurts of come shooting out between them. Sherlock groaned as John's internal muscles clamped down on his prick. He gave a few short, hard thrusts before he came inside John, his deep voice making John's skin tremble.

Sherlock rolled off of John and onto the bed next to him, wrapping long arms around John's chest and holding him close.

"Stay with me?" Sherlock mumbled. "Please."

For the second time that night, Sherlock's plea made John smile and listen.

—

John awoke the next day to a squid wrapped around his torso and upper thighs. He fumbled at the tentacles, trying desperately to get them off before he suffocated.

Sherlock, on the other hand, awoke to a squirming John fumbling blindly at his limbs.

"Er, John? Are you okay?" Sherlock asked, amusement tinging his voice.

John paused when he heard Sherlock's voice coming from the squid. "Sherlock?" He asked sleepily. "Did the squid get you?"

Sherlock frowned. "What squid?" He asked, confused.

"The one trying to suffocate me!" John replied, pulling at Sherlock's arms. Sherlock, realizing that John thought he was the squid, released John from his arms and chuckled.

John rolled over and noted that Sherlock was most likely the squid. "Um. Do we need to talk about this?" He asked, gesturing between them.

"I don't see why we would need to," Sherlock intoned. "We've simply moved to a different stage in our relationship."

John nodded. "Right. Well. How about some tea?"

Sherlock smirked. "Be there in a minute. I'm going to get dressed."

John got up and walked stark naked out the door. "Don't bother. I'll just rip them off the second you come downstairs," he called over his shoulder. "It's my turn to fuck you, and that bit of wall by the stairs seems like a great place to start."

Sherlock stared after him for a few seconds before leaping out of the bed and running down the stairs.