BEYOND ANY EXPECTATIONS

John directed an inquiring look at Sherlock who, with fingers entwined under his chin, was sitting in his chair and was indifferently looking somewhere between the door and the wall. John took his green jacket off in slow motion, then reached for his own chair, and leaned over its back. His eyes were locked on Sherlock's face which was now blank and staring away from him. John coughed as to clear his throat.

'What's wrong, Sherlock? Did something happen when I was-...'

'How was it?'

'Sorry?'

'The date. How was it?'

This was the first time Sherlock paid any attention to his dates. A question one of a kind. John smiled and nodded.

'It was fine. Good, all went good.'

'But you had different expectations, am I right?'

John pouted. Yes, he did.

'What do you-...'

'C'mon!' Sherlock waved with his right hand and stood up. Sleeked down his suit, 'The ending. You expected a different one. I, for myself, was absolutely sure you would come back to 221B.'

John got confused. He frowned a bit and coughed again, unsure of what to say or what would follow.

'Anyway... How was your evening? What did you do?'

'Waiting for you,' Sherlock got this blank and God-knows-where-directed look again. John got even more confused.

'You said you're going to the Yard. Lestrade-...'

'Nope. I wasn't there.'

'Well, Mycroft had some plans too.'

'Involving Lestrade?' a pause interrupted by Sherlock's fake grin, 'Yes. Mycroft's plans exactly got me some space for thinking.'

'Sherlock, I really don't-...'

Sherlock smirked and looked straight at John. Their eyes locked for several seconds, and then the doctor was forced to look away. The tension was too much for him – something was going on and he didn't know whether to like it or to be afraid of it.

'Won't you tell me what's going on? Where's Mrs Hudson?'

'She is not on Baker today – went to see a friend in Birmingham. You asked what I did: we took a cab to the rail station and I sent here away. Then I got back here and waited for you.'

'Why... I mean – what do you need me for?' the sparkle in Sherlock's eyes was something unusual for John to see, 'Another crime. Or... experiment?'

'Something in-between,' Sherlock got closer. His swaying posture made John swallow hard and grab the back of his chair tighter. This was not the Sherlock he knew. He looked at his arms to see some traces of injections but there was none of them. Was Sherlock drunk? What was going on?

'Sherlock, are you alright?'

'I am, John, I am. But you've disappointed me, you know?'

John frowned.

'Why? What's wrong?'

'Today is our... how do people called it? Ah, yes! Our anniversary.'

John chuckled and bit his lower lip upon seeing Sherlock's cheeks blushing.

'What anniversary, Sherlock?'

'The day we first met. At Bart's.'

'I am genuinely surprised you do remember such stuff.'

'Don't be ridiculous. I remember anything connected to-...'

Sherlock stopped half the sentence. John, however, sensed its end.

'Connected to?'

'You.'

John gasped as Sherlock cut the distance between them. There was a barely heard crack – John's hands were slipping down the chair's back.

'I-... I don't know what to say. You are serious,' John looked at Sherlock getting closer and closer, 'Well, I don't have a gift for you...'

'Don't try to be funny. I have the perfect gift for both of us.'

'Really?' John's eyes widened and then he smiled. However, next Sherlock's move was totally unexpected.

Sherlock's hand moved at John's cheek, caressed it gently, then his fingers dug into his blonde hair. His other hand was on John's chest, feeling his heartbeat getting more and more rapid with each second.

'Sherlock, what the hell are you do-...'

Before even getting to finish his sentence, John's mouth was closed by Sherlock's lips. Sherlock's tongue was trying to draw a path somewhere in the mouth of the shorter man but the struggle with John's tongue was a nightmare. Sherlock sighed and cut the kiss short.

'Won't you allow me, John?'

'I-... I don't know what to-...'

Sherlock smiled at John's confusion.

'You know how to kiss a woman. Try with me now.'

They looked at each other for several seconds. John nodded slowly, got on his tiptoes, grabbed the shirt collar of Sherlock and crashed his lips with his own. Now it was John's tongue that was playfully pushing and grabbing Sherlock's.

John did not realise that Sherlock has lifted him up at some point. His fingernails were digging what seemed to him holes in those perfectly shaped cheekbones as Sherlock was pressing his body closer to John's. John felt that his jeans are about to explode but the feeling of something even bigger rubbing the lower part of his body made those same jeans unzip themselves under the pressure. Sherlock broke off the kiss, looked down at the broken zip, licked his upper lip and smiled back at John.

'Oh, yes. You definitely had different expectations for the evening, John. I am highly amused.'

'Sherlock, don't-...'

John got it – tonight was not the night of finishing thoughts and sentences. Everything was broken off and unspoken. Sherlock was already on his knees. John heard the clicking sound of his jeans falling off, then of his pants. His erection – enormous and hard as never before – was hitting Sherlock's nose. John closed his eyes: yes, he has dreamed about this so many times, but yet... it was strange to see the detective on his knees begging for-...

'Oh, God!'

Sherlock's mouth was oddly skilful. His tongue was licking the head, while his lips were covering the rest of the penis. John thought that this was giving him unbelievable pain and pleasure at the same moment. He opened his eyes and soon realised this was a mistake. He met Sherlock's ice blue eyes, full with desire and lust. His mouth was sliding over John's crotch so masterfully and beautifully, that John bit his lips. He was now deliberating what to do next but was slowly getting that this would reach a point where he would not be able to control himself.

'Sherlock, I-... I am going to-...'

Yet another unspoken word. John did the thing he feared the most. He came. In Sherlock's mouth. The detective was a bit surprised by the sudden burst out but smiled, licked his lips and swallowed. John sighed and blushed.

'I am sorry. I didn't mean to.'

'You are just too anxious, Doctor Watson. Am I right?'

Sherlock stood up and placed a kiss on John's sweaty lips. John's tongue licked off his own white drops from Sherlock's mouth and moaned. He has never thought this would be so pleasant. It has occurred to him once but he refused kissing the girl afterwards – it disgusted him. Now he longed for it.

John felt Sherlock's hand moving down. Sherlock smiled and nervously blushed.

'You know... I've never done this before. But... I noticed you are ready for it. Two condoms in the back-pocket of your jeans. Nice work.'

John coughed and with a quick move took the condoms out from his jeans pocket. His hands were shaking but he still succeeded tearing apart the package of one of them. Sherlock's eyes were glittering. He placed one more kiss on John's lips, then on his neck. With every single kiss, he started unbuttoning his shirt.

John's eyes were following Sherlock's moves. His tongue was coming out of his mouth, then in, and then he gasped and gasped and gasped. The perfect body of the consulting detective soon was naked in front of him. Begging for him. Only for him.

The perfect torso, the long legs, the huge crotch between them. John has always been the dominating type. But seeing this down there... he knew – he perfectly well knew – that he wanted it inside of him. Quick. Now.

'Here you are.'

John handed the condom to Sherlock who looked back at him with an inquiring look. Refused to take the condom.

'C'mon. You've given me a tremendous pleasure. Now it's my turn to give such to you.'

'B-... But...'

'You said it was a gift for both of us. Go on, Sherlock,' John pushed the condom in Sherlock's hands and got on his tiptoes again. His tongue brushed Sherlock's earlobe, 'Fuck me.'

Sherlock did not need another invitation. He kissed John, then his chubby nose and his forehead. Then kissed the left arm – right where his war scar was, then shoulder, then his back. His mouth was moving lower and lower, while his hands were trying to put the condom on his erectile penis. When he succeeded, his fingers moved down at John's arse and tried to spread it open.

John settled a bit and grabbed the back of the chair once again, giving both Sherlock and himself some support. Moaned upon feeling Sherlock's fingers moving in and out his rear end.

'Go on, Sherlock. Do it!'

Sherlock hesitated a bit. He wasn't sure what to do exactly – he supposed it would hurt John but on other hand the erection was terribly hurting him.

John felt Sherlock's head on the entrance of his arse. He bit his lower lip. This would be the first time, he thought. It would hurt, was his second thought. Doesn't matter – I trust Sherlock, was the third.

A sudden thrust made John almost fall over the armchair. It hurt. It indeed hurt a lot. Sherlock was an amateur and was not aware he needed to use a lubricant. John cried out but Sherlock was oblivious and was in such an ecstatic mood that he did not realise he was hurting John. Another thrust and another. John felt that his penis is rising up again, the pain was slightly going away, only to be replaced by the upcoming orgasm he was about to experience for the second time in several minutes.

Sherlock was moaning and groaning. He leaned forward and put his head on John's back, tickling the back of his neck with his thick curls. John's teeth sank into the fluffy armchair.

'I-... Thought you-... Are asexual.'

John's moaning whispers made Sherlock smile in exhaustion.

'There's no such thing as asexual, John. Everyone is sexual once they find the right person.'

John smiled. His erection hurt desperately but he was sensing that the next thrust would be the last one. Unfortunately, he was absolutely right.

Sherlock let out a loud groan. John felt the last one but most powerful thrust so strong inside him that the chair moved a bit because of the strength of it. Sherlock fell over John, trying to find some place for his arms. He decided to hug John and press him tighter to his body.

John was not happy with that. His erection was torturing him. Sherlock's tiny body did not weigh much, so he was able to stand up and to make him face his eyes. Sherlock sighed.

'Thank you,' Sherlock leaned forward in order to kiss John once again but the doctor moved away.

'There's still one more condom in play, Sherlock Holmes,' John pushed Sherlock away and grabbed the condom. Tore it open, his eyes never leaving Sherlock's. The sleuth took a deep breath and in seconds was on his knees again.

'This is how I should stand, right?'

'For the sake of both of us, yes,' giggled John. He was not an amateur, however. Although Sherlock hurt him and although his erection was troubling him, he spent some time easing the detective off. He spit in the pink hole in front of him, and then slid his fingers through. Sherlock heaved a deep sigh.

'Come on, John! Just do it. Do whatever you want to. Do it.'

John smirked. He entered slowly and gently. Sherlock shivered. It still hurt him a bit, John noticed. John tried to go as calmly as possible, placing a kiss after kiss on Sherlock's back and shoulders with each gentle thrust.

'Sherlock?'

Sherlock nodded in response.

'Why did you choose such a gift?'

John quickened the tempo a bit. Sherlock started breathing heavily.

'Told you – Mycroft and his unequivocal relationship with Lestrade gave me the idea.'

'Good. That's-...' John couldn't finish this sentence either. That was it. He tried and did his best to be calm and gentle but he just couldn't. Wasn't in his nature. Two powerful thrusts followed, 'Fuck. Sherlock... God!'

They came at the same time, their groaning voices mixing up and their names being whispered and shouted over and over again. John buried down his head somewhere between Sherlock's neck and right shoulder, while Sherlock lifted up his hand and placed it on John's bottom while John was still inside him. Carved his fingernails into John's soft baby-like skin.

John moved a bit and fell over on his back. Sherlock lifted up, using his elbows as support and looked at John. His fingers caressed the doctor's hair and forehead.

'Sherlock... That-... This-... Marvellous.'

'Was it?'

'Yes. Totally amazing. You were perfect.'

Sherlock grinned, a slight blush covering his perfectly shaped face. John kissed him once, twice; then smiled back, trying to catch his breath.

'This was the best gift I've ever received in my entire life.'

'And was it the expected ending of the evening?'

'No.'

Sherlock frowned, a bit disappointed.

'No, it surpassed any expectations.'

They both giggled. Sherlock fell on his back too. Both of them looked at the ceiling in complete silence.

'Sherlock?'

'Yes, John.'

'How long did you say Mrs Hudson would stay in Birmingham?'

'Four days, John. Why?'

John smirked, his eyes shining.

'I have a whole unopened package of condoms in my room – that's why.'

Both of them burst out laughing.