John is just getting out of his taxi. Mobile in hand, he blindly waves the cabby 'thank you' and slams the door. After submitting a text, John hastily makes his way to the door. Before he can open the second, Sherlock does. John exclaims his surprise, looking the detective up and down. His trousers and button-up worn the way the Lord intended. Tight-fitte and sleeves rolled to the elbows. His hair was ruffled and feet bare, eyes wide.
"Ohh John, shut up and get your ass in here," Sherlock grumbles and he grabs John's hand and leads him up the stairs.
John trips over a stair but doesn't fall. "Shit, Sherlock," the doctor says stressfully under his breath.
The boys make their way and stand at the opening of the door to the main room, leaning John on the doorway.
"Gnugh," Sherlock grumbles again loudly as he and John share a passionate kiss, hands pulling at faces and hair and shirt collars, too.
"Take that fucking shirt off already. Christ," John breathes.
John's head makes a 'knock' as Sherlock pushes his head up to kiss John's neck. John blindly fumbles for Sherlock's shirt collar button and tear's the clothing open, few buttons fly, reminding John on the spittle that escapes Sherlock's lips in a passionate conversation.
"God, John," Sherlock whispers into his neck.
"Fuh- Sherlock," John moans quietly at the wet kisses being planted on his neck.
Neither can take the heat anymore, as John rips away Sherlock's button-up and hastily undoes that pesky button at the front of Sherlock's trousers.
Sherlock releases a prolonged whimper as he pushes John into the flat and they fall gracelessly onto the sette against the wall.
The kiss breaks for a moment and there is a moment of silence being only clouded by the sound of the boys piled over each other breathing heavily. John looks up into Sherlock's eyes. They are wild and jittery; aggressively studying every detail, apparently, of John's excited and shaken expression.
Sherlock frowns slightly, seemingly amused. John cocks his head and waits for the witty line, the sarcastic comment. It doesn't come. Instead Sherlock ducks his head to kiss John again. It is slower that before but no less passionate. John shivers as Sherlock Holmes' cool fingers trail down his spine. And then, John feels a heat in his chest as Sherlock doesn't stop his moving hands until he has gathered John's still-clothed legs around his own.
And there is an unusual amount of pleasure they both find in the sound of the fabric of John's jeans against the pair of tightly worn boxers.
At this time the kiss increases again in heat, tongues crazy at each other.
Sherlock moves his hands back up to run them over John's torso, feelings for buttons of any kind on John's jumper. As there is no discovery, Sherlock reaches and rolls the bottom of John's shirts in his hands. Sherlock gingerly pulls John's top over his head, intensionally touching as much skin as possible.
"Oh, Sherlock-" John's words are cut off by desperate lips which he greets enthusiastically. John's hands are attached at the root of Sherlock's hair, emitting moans in return for Sherlock's hisses and grow;s as every slight tug; Sherlock, meanwhile, removes John's trousers.
Boys' lips still attached and hair-pullin' still goin' strong, John's fingers slip beneath the waistband of Sherlock's boxers; and suddenly nervous fingers grasp his wrists.
"John." It's barely more than a whisper. John pauses and searches Sherlock's eyes silently, his pink, swollen lips part slightly in confusion.
"You alright, Sherlock?" John says, the tone somehow gentle, eve though it's how he very often spoke to Sherlock. Patient.
"Yes-yes, quite fine," Sherlock stutters, eyes unlocked and frantic. His lips part for a moment for him to lick, breath heavy. "I-I, it's not like I might be unexperienced, you've got to be believe me here," Sherlock chuckles awkwardly and John smiles along. "But- I... I haven't been physical in a long time. This is all quite a bit for," he swallows, hand squeezing John's write tighter for a moment,"...for me to process."
"Okay, alright, alright." John says quickly, moving up. His tone reassuring, helpful.
"Wa-wa-wa-wai-wait-wait, John, that's not what I meant, I want his." Sherlock stutters frantically, moving as not to bump faces with John.
John chuckles in amusement and pushes Sherlock back down, sit-right on the couch by the shoulders while crouching on the floor in front of him.
"Oh- wait. What?"
"Spread your legs, Sherlock."
"Why?"
"Do it, right."
Sherlock slides down a bit as he spreads his legs and John steps between them, leaning forward to kiss Sherlock passionately. Sherlock sighs into the kiss, bringing his hand up to John's face gently. John pulls back slowly and looks into Sherlock's eyes. There is a glimmer in John's eyes that makes Sherlock's spine tingle. He bites his lip in anticipation as John smirks slightly and makes a trail of kisses from Sherlock's chin to his tummy.
"I love you, babe," he says huskily.
Sherlock is breathing a bit heavily and doesn't give any response more than a little tug on his lover's hair. John chuckles darkly and begins to kiss a line down Sherlock's white show-er, plucking the edges of Sherlock's boxers delicately. Sherlock whimpers as John pulls them down and purposefully and lightly stroking the underside of Sherlock's hardness. John breathes heavily at Sherlock's length, impulsively placing his hands around the base firmly.
"Jesus Christ, Sherlock."
Instead of immediately feeling pleasure as expected, Sherlock looked down and found John nibbling and sucking the tender flesh on the inside of his thighs.
"Ffuuuuck... John, Jesus, please just- fucking DO IT already!"
John smiles against his skin, pleased with Sherlock's groans and reluctant squirming. John starts his hands at the base of Sherlock's torso and drags them down lightly to touch his thighs. Sherlock's moans and hisses cloud John's mind as he slips both hands over Sherlock's length and slides them all the way down his shaft.
Sherlock's fuck throbs at the gentle movements and bucks his hips up slightly.
"Aaaaahh, oh- oh fuck," he moans shakily," Jooohhn, please!"
John chuckles and he grasps Sherlock's shaft again and kisses the tip lightly. Sherlock grips the edge of the cushion.
"John, for the love of God-"
John fits Sherlock's length into his mouth slowly and fully. He hums and swirls his tongue around him. Sherlock's body raises up from the sette slightly and tilts his head back.
"Ahhh, sss-m," he hisses loudly. His eyes roll back into his head as John pulls back, sucking lightly to make a popping sound at release. Sherlock moans and his thickness bobs as John moves back a smidge. He ducks again, shoving the length into his mouth and twisting one hand around the length as he begins to move up and down.
Just as Sherlock is about to come, John pulls away. Sherlock moans in protest.
"John, what are you-"
"Shut up, Sherlock, and lay back down."
John leans over Sherlock's flushed body and kisses his neck. Sherlock rips his waist and pulls him closer, their cocks rub against each other's and they simultaneously gasp.
"Please, John," Sherlock begs.
John moves his hips vigorously, lowering one hand to keep his and Sherlock's fuck in line. With the other, he pulls at Sherlock's hair. Breaths loud and hot, both Sherlock and John feel heat gather in their groins. As it gradually moves up their chests, John and Sherlock come together.
Moans and groans that are loud and frantic. Ejaculate spilling over each other.
As they finish, John pants over Sherlock's shoulder, hands around his neck. Sherlock finished and John plants light kisses on his neck and jawline. Sherlock tilts his head, out of both exhaustion and welcome to his lover's licks and pecks.
John and Sherlock readjusts themselves after a moment, breaths slow, to that they're both lying longways across the cushions.
"That...," Sherlock starts, his head tilted upwards. John rests his chin on Sherlock's chest. "...was amazing."
"You think so?"
"Of course it was. It was extraordinary; it was quite extraordinary."
"Hm." John smiles and looks up. Sherlock's chin scrunches slightly as he makes an effort to make eye contact and John huffs quietly and lays his cheek back down on Sherlock's chest.
Minutes pass and John and Sherlock take deep breaths, both feeling the need to fix themselves up. As they are buttoning their trousers, they suddenly hear the downstairs door open and close. Both make a panicked eye-contact as they rush to finish fixing their shirts. Sherlock finishes and takes a step towards John, combing this hands through John's hair quickly. John looks up and nods a thank you before striding over to the kitchen. Slowly, Mrs. Hudson makes her way up the stairs and Sherlock stands, looking as if nothing has happened as he is pacing through the flat. He ruffles his hair for a moment and takes a seat in his chair.
"John, would you mind?"
"'F course not." He responds, getting out a second cup from their cupboard.
"How are you boys?" Mrs. Hudson sings.
"Fine."
"Fine." They respond in unison.
"Right. Good."
With that, Mrs. Hudson makes her way back down stairs.
John looks over his shoulder from setting the kettle down, making eye contact with Sherlock. They smile slyly and chuckle.