DISCLAIMER: I do not own Sherlock. If I owned Sherlock, and by default Benedict Cumberbatch, I would not be in my bedroom writing fan fiction. I would be in my bedroom doing other, more interesting things.
I'd Know Him Anywhere – 300 words
It was so, so dark, and John's body was tensed, prepared for anything. What he didn't expect was the hear a door open and know Sherlock had entered the room.
John couldn't see him. Someone, most likely Sherlock, had put a blindfolded him, but knowing Sherlock was in the room suppressed Johns need to remove it and he could feel himself relaxing slowly.
Soft lips brushed his own, and warm air ghosted over his face. He was surprised, he'd not heard Sherlock move, but when his hands were untied, there was no hesitation in standing, instinctively finding the mans hips and guiding him back onto the soft bed John had just vacated.
Sherlock made no sound, so John kissed him, a soft sigh, but no other reaction. John grinned, and began trailing his way down the familiar body, mouthing at Sherlock's bulging cock before slowly easing the clothes from the thin body beneath him. Finding his way with touch and tongue, John licked along Sherlock's long legs, and by the time he reached the mans ass, there was heavy breathing and John could practically hear the bedsheets being fisted tightly. Wet dexterous tongue, and spit slicked fingers had Sherlock's long legs trembling as John prepared him, revelling in listening for any minuscule sounds his lover made, and it wasn't long before he was slowly driving in and out of the warm pliable body, desperately begging Sherlock for the tiny whimpers, and almost smothered gasps the slow burning build up was drawing from him; their climaxes left them panting, sweat-soaked and limp.
John blinked when the blindfold was removed as soft lips kissed him deeply.
"How did you know?" Sherlock murmured curiously, eyeing John with intrigue, but John merely laughed and shook his head,
"How? Gods, Sherlock... I'd know you anywhere"