"Case?" John randomly blurted out as he poured a small teacup and filled it with tea. He took the hot cup in his hands and blew softly before taking a small sip. Sherlock sat on the couch, hands pressed together in a thoughtful manner and stared at John's lips unconsciously, thinking of the case instead of him.
'Time of death was put around 12:00 midnight so that mean the killer was probably home at around...'
"Sherlock."
"Shut up!" he snapped as he clenched his jaw, fisted his hands and pressed his eyes shut. It was his way of calming and it completely work so he resumed his thinking. "I do apologize but let me think." He pressed his hands together once more and leans in slowly. Johns sighed at the sudden spike of anger and nodded slightly. He walked around the kitchen, his fingers brushing slightly against the chemistry set he had set up on their dinner table. He tapped the glass and the glass responded with a small hum. He misses his slight touches from his colleague, his friend, his Sherlock. His ghostly touch still remained upon his neck and he cupped his head and spun him softly.
Suddenly, his hand brushed the back of his neck and slightly around his shoulders. "Sherlock I-" He had to say something but he had almost forgotten that Sherlock was in his cocoon and closed his mouth. 'How can I tell him? I nearly did at Angelo's.' He took a step closer to the sink and placed the cup that was still filled into the sink. He didn't want tea anymore, he figured. It will just make things worse.
"Your stressed. Tell me," he heard Sherlock's voice. His low, purring tone that John had a while getting used. "John." John always loved the way he says his voice. It was mostly strong at victorious times and breathlessly when in times of distress. His voice always leaving small goose bumps and forced his hair to stand on his back. "Turn and look at me."
"No..." he said in a small laughing tone. He knew what Sherlock was trying to do the moment the words slipped out of his mouth. He wanted to see his face, to deduce what was the matter but now he couldn't. "I'm fine right here." John gripped the sink frame so hard, he began to scratch the silver frame so he released it, letting out a huff. "Don't worry about me."
"You are my partner. If you ought to behave like this for the rest of your life, then at least tell me what is the matter. If not, quit acting like such a baby!" Sherlock scolded at him and crossed his arms. He never thought twice about what he said but John did. He cared for Sherlock's words and even the little breathily little sighs he does in between long sentences.
'You are my partner.' the words hit him more than anything and the pit of his stomach was filled with a bit a joy but also he found anger. "Nothing!" he exclaimed as he fisted his hand. "I have always acted like such a bloody baby to you! Nothing I will do will please you, right?" he snapped back, needing something to chuck at the wall and his favorite teacup was the first object. He threw it as hard as he could and aimed it as if there was a mark on the wall for target practice.
Sherlock knew Mrs. Hudson had come in on their conversation so Sherlock looked at her and shook his head like he was in control of the situation. When Mrs. Hudson left, John turned his head to Sherlock. By then, he had already gotten up and was a few steps away from John.
'When did he...-' John paused momentarily as he felt the breathing became stronger by each step he took. "Sherlock I-" His voice caught in his throat as Sherlock's head bent down and let out a hot breath on his neck purposely... No... Curiously. He leaned back and met the doctors eyes as it dilated. Sherlock moved slow, brushing his fingers against him and hearing John's breath hitch. As soon as the tips of his index and middle made it up to his wrists, he took a quick pulse. He noticed his moist palms and looked at his adam's apple as it raised and lowered while John swallowed indicating that his throat was dry; very dry. Sherlock looked away at the thought of John thinking of him as an intimate partner instead of a business one.
"Your-" He froze as his body responded to the news and his throat dried quickly. He cleared his throat in attempts to speak again. "Your favorite teacup. You threw it."
"I did... What...?" Johns eyes searched the floor and cursed at himself. He bit his bottom lip and began walking towards the cup. It was indeed his favorite cup as he noticed while picking up the small pieces as quick as he can. Sherlock noticed that John was mumbling something under his breath and saw that he was picking up the shards a little too quickly.
"Not so fast-"
"Ah! Bloody hell!" John shouted in pain as he dropped the shards and ran towards the sink. Sherlock took a few steps to the sink and bent over his shoulder to see John cleaning the small but deep cut. "Damn. There still a shard in there." John mumbled to himself as he brought his index finger near his mouth but Sherlock quickly caught his wrist.
"Don't." he firmly said as if John's finger was poison. John looked at him, in profound shock as Sherlock slowly moved his finger towards his mouth. John couldn't help but let out a gasp when his friend's tongue began exploring his finger but he also let out a groan when Sherlock sucked suddenly.
'H-His mouth. It's really that hot?' John swallowed hard and bit his bottom lip. Clearly Sherlock has already removed the shard and spat it out but he couldn't help but to dive back to his finger and ran his tongue across the wound. By then, Johns breath quickened slightly as a blush began to rise. "You really didn't-"
"I wanted to." Sherlock told him in a beat as he pushed his hand away slowly. He looked down at his partner and gave him a signature smirk and finally let go of his wrist. "You can put peroxide on it now before it infects-"
"Kiss me already." John thought it but somehow it his slipped out of his lips. He heard Sherlock's breathing cease for a moment before he continued and sighed. It wasn't a frustrated sigh and John could tell. It was almost a confused sigh and Sherlock was usually aware of things before it happens so he doesn't have any room for confusion but with John, he's someone different.
Sherlock turned his way towards him and took a few steps until the tip of his toe reaches his. John was now embarrassed to even look up at Sherlock, mainly because what he said and because he said that to Sherlock without thinking correctly. Then, he felt the index finger of Sherlock's, slowly picking up his head to look directly into his eyes. Sherlock could read everything; the lust, passion ,and sheer pent up primal energy that was ready to explode. His head bent down but it wasn't for the contact. Instead, his mouth was near his ear, breathing hotly down his neck and gently nibbling his ear. "Say that again?" he huskily said as his own breaths began slightly rough.
"Bloody kiss me already." John, who always seemed like a kitten to him, was now growing like a dog and in such a demanding tone. He never saw John this way and that made him want him more.
At first Sherlock experimented by rubbing his cheek against his before leaning back. He saw the want in his eyes and, god, how he wanted him to let go of his pent up emotions. He continued his experimentation as he leaned forward and this time, his lips lightly brushed his bottom one and he heard John try to hold back a groan but it escaped when Sherlock circled his arm behind his neck and grabbed at his hair. Sherlock caught his open mouth and slipped his tongue in, searching for John's. As soon as he found his, he curled slightly around his tongue, encouraging him to do something. When he responded, both men moaned. Never did they thought they would be this close together, this intimate with each other.
John pulled back only an inch to breath. "My. God. Sherlock." he panted his words as he wrapped both of his arms around his neck and brought him in hard, their lips crushing together and teeth clashing. They didn't care how hard they were biting each other's lips because when they tasted blood, they only resumed and broke it when one did not have enough breath. Sherlocks hand stood at the back of his neck while the other began to unbutton his shirt and parting them to rub slowly and teasingly. "Oh... Go-" he couldn't finish as Sherlock silenced him with a chase kiss before unbuckling John's jeans. "Please... Yes." he breathed as he tried to catch himself.
"You sure?"
"God dammit Sher-" his voice got stuck in the deepest part of his throat as Sherlock's hand slipped inside the waistband. Johns hand uncurled from Sherlock's neck and now were holding the side of his shoulders for support as Sherlock's smooth, cold fingers grasped the base of his cock and pulled up gently. Somehow, that wasn't enough. He wanted more.
It was as if Sherlock read his mind when his fingers ceased and when his hands made it up with the hips of the jeans, he pulled down slowly along with his trousers. Sherlock kneeled to help John fully remove his trousers and tossed them in a far corner.
"Won't me needing that for a while." Sherlock smirked while his hand made it back to John's cock but at the same time, his head was brought closer to him. Johns muscles tensed slightly and he quickly put his hand on his curls.
"Sherlock...-"
"Let me do my experiments. Shall we continue?" Sherlock didn't sound agitated nor disappointed. He knew there would be a slight hesitation in John. He continued until John was filling in his mouth, hitting the back of his throat but since Sherlock never had a gag reflex, he was fine with it.
John let out a pleasurable moan as he threw his head back, softly thrusting into his friends mouth. The hand on his head began to slowly close on Sherlock's curls and fully gripped him. Sherlock's hands began to crawl up to his hips and pin him as he looked up at his friend. John looked down at Sherlock and mentally tried to tell him he was ready now and Sherlock caught the message. When Sherlock removed his mouth, John whimpered and moaned his name breathlessly as Sherlock's tongue danced at the tip where the slit was. Sherlock hummed when he pulled back and looked at his friend. His head was thrown back, eyes screws shut, sweat running down his face, labored breathing... He was gorgeous. "Your enjoying yourself." He joked which made his friend open his eyes and look at him, eye burning.
"Sherlock... Please... For Christ sake I need to-"
"Well aware of your situation just trying to solve it in a more reasonable way." Sherlock knew how this all will end; one inside the other, panting, sweating, whispering nonsense to each other. What he was really intrigued is the fact that who will be inside who? Then came a small tint of red on his cheeks. He stood, eyes kept on John as he raised himself and meet his lips and a more passionate kiss than the heated and rushed one. He felt himself being pushed slightly back into the table and gasped slightly. "My god, John-"
"Oh sorry. Your chemistry set..." John exhaled as he gently pushed him against the counter. His self control was slipping as he growled in his ear to lean forward onto the counter and Sherlock did what he was told but with a smirk on his face. "Your pants. Remove them. Now." He said breathing heavily as he began to remove his belt buckle and slip the belt out. Sherlock's hands lazily began to unbutton his his pants and pushed downwards, releasing himself from the constraints of his trousers. Johns eyes slowly inspected his body and his hand made it up to his arse. He became mesmerized of how soft he was and how willing he was to him.
"Like what you see?"
"Your prefect." John smirked slightly to Sherlock's shifting when he rubbed a knuckle against his entrance. He too began to experiment as he breached the tip of his finger but pulled back slightly when hearing Sherlock whimper. God, that sound he could never forget. "The matter?"
"Unprepared. God I want you so much." Sherlock backed up against his hand as he whimpered once more, not turning his head to show his madly blushing face. John began looking around and quickly left to the living room, leaving poor Sherlock alone with his aching member but not for long as he returned with a bottle of lube in his hand. Sherlock looked at him but when his eyes reached his hands, he gave him a look of disgust. "What? It's either this or nothing."
"Hurry. In me. Now. Please." He shut his eyes as he placed his head against his arm and moaned. Johns breath caught in his chest. He had never Sherlock moan in such way and never heard him beg. He looked spectacular and he was glad that Sherlock trusted him so much to break in front of him. "John. Now." Sherlock became impatient as he thrust against nothing. When he felt a moist finger breach him, he fisted his hand and bit his lip, swallowing the need to cry out. John tried his best not to cause him any pains as he experimented, giving it a few thrusts before entering a second finger. Sherlock shuddered as he felt himself being stretched. "For the... Love of god." Sherlock whimpered as his head rolled against his arm and bucked his hips slowly. John looked at Sherlock's face as he turned to see him. Lips swollen, cheeks flushed, drenched hair, sweating body. John would've came undone just by looking at him. "A third, John. A third." now he was practically begging.
"You sure?"
"Have you... Don't this before?" Sherlock could tell.
John hesitated "No."
"Figured." Sherlock breathed and smiled but when he entered a third, he let out a small groan as bit his lip. John nearly pulled back but Sherlock backed his hips up into his fingers. "No... Keep going." John did what he was told, thrusting his fingers slowly into him, trying to find a spot in which would make his knees give away. When he flicked his wrist and heard Sherlock finally cried out, he gave out a smile, knowing that he found it. He removed his fingers slowly and opened the bottle, coating his member slowly before placing it near his entrance.
"Sherlock-"
"John." His voice was steady now as he turned his head to make eye contact. John knew already and gave him a warm smile. He pushed up slowly, making his way inside of him. When the tip breached, he paused, giving himself a few moments before continuing until he reached the middle.
He was going too slow for Sherlock and he became impatient. Sherlock bucked his hips back, sliding John in way too fast. He gasped, the sound that Sherlock can hear perfectly before he felt his hands grip each side of his hip. "A moment, Sherlock. Your incredibly tight." John said before giving a few breaths. Almost without warning, he thrust the rest inside of him, making Sherlock inhale sharply and swing his arm to grip his wrist. "You alright?"
"Fine." One word was all he could give out before John pulled back and thrust his was back into him. Sherlock felt that he was virgin by the way he thrust. He knew that John was experimenting as he shifted into an uncomfortable position, making him groan in pain which worried John.
"I'm sorry. I just-"
"Harder." Sherlock moaned out loud as the grip on John's wrist increased. John swallowed and nearly came and his words. He leaned in, almost against his back as he increased his power but not the speed. He wanted to find Sherlock's sweet spot again so he shifted back into a more comfortable position before gripping his hips tighter and thrust in before hearing Sherlock give out a sort of a sob and a moan mixed. "Yes..." He whispered and some other words that were incoherent.
John pressed his chest against his back and released one side of his hip to swing around Sherlock and grab him firmly. Feeling him shudder encouraged him to pound in him faster as he began stroking him, running his thumb over the tip.
Sherlock's moans became more frequent and louder and John was just surprised that Mrs. Hudson haven't knocked yet. The thought of that erased when he heard Sherlock cry out Johns in pure ecstasy and he began to spasm around him. He couldn't take it anymore as he placed a couple of well thrusts and broke, shuddering his release before moaning Sherlock's name. John released his cock and his other hand made it to Sherlock's hot one, on the edge of the counter. Both began panting quickly, trying to control their breaths. John felt Sherlock's legs shake and quickly reacted before Sherlock collapses. He picked him up like he would to his bride and slowly walked to the living room slowly, afraid that his legs would give out too. When John placed Sherlock on the couch, he heard him mumble something incoherent and shift. He spread out a bed sheet and placed it neatly on top of Sherlock and began fetching his clothing. As soon as he buttoned up, he heard a knock and his head snapped towards the door.
"I have tea." Mrs. Hudson sounded happy behind the door and when he decided to open, her face lid up. Mrs. Hudson knew what happened but she was alright with it. What a saint.
As Mrs. Hudson left, John took the tray to the table between the couch and the chair and sat. He couldn't help but look at Sherlock, finally sleeping like a baby. It took him a few moments thinking about his Sherlock, his lover.
John sniffed in his sleep, smelling something odd. Smoke. His body stiffened for a moment before opening his eyes and looked around the room. He felt a cramp on his neck as he turned it, rubbing his neck trying to get rid of it. He looked at himself and saw he had the same clothes on since the night. Then, everything what happened that night rushed to him, making him blush violently.
"Glad your awake." He heard Sherlock say. He turned to him which he was by the window with nothing on than a bed sheet, smoking.
Smoking?
"Sherlock... Your smoking?"
"Mrs. Hudson sent two up here along with matches." Sherlock puffed out and inhaled again slowly. John blinked a few times until Sherlock turned towards him and handed him his half-finished cigarette. "Take a slow breath. Don't force yourself or you'll choke." John was about to tell him that he doesn't smoke but he wanted at least try, wanted to know why everyone is so hooked on it so he pressed it near his lips and took it in slowly and held it. The taste wasnt that bad but it was still bad so he exhaled and coughed slightly, removing the cigarette from his mouth.
"Smoke after sex? Quite like you." John joked as he inhaled slowly. He exhaled and chuckled slightly at the smile Sherlocks face. It was cheeky and nothing like him, making his comment ironic. "Are you wearing any underwear?"
"Pffft no." He said under his breath as he waved his hand around the air. Sherlock began to walk across to the bathroom.
"Sherlock, Did you like it?" John said before he could reach the bathroom. He turned and looked at John, His John, and gave him his usual smirk.
"I would have stopped you if I didn't. Besides, last night happened because of me." Sherlock said removing the sheet and began to walk the rest of the way to the bathroom naked in front of John. His eyes widened at the sight and coughed, grounding the rest of the cigarette on the ashtray before taking a deep breath. He's something else, he thought. Not 'The virgin' anymore but his Sherlock.