Liberate Me

Sherlock and John's relationship has always been platonic from any on-lookers perspective. On the contrary it never was a "just friends" type of connection. That was a fact Sherlock had always known, and something John denied with a passion-or at least he used to. So the one night John finally gave up the fight and allowed himself to indulge in what their relationship could be, Sherlock didn't hesitate to accept John's indirect offering. The beginning of their sexual relationship started predictably slow. They spent most of their time trying to gage John's prior "Not Gay" mentality out of him by Sherlock introducing him to basic homosexual stimuli. Now John is no virgin. He's had his fair share of sexual experience. Sadly in Sherlock's case John's experience was only subjective to women. However, Once Sherlock got John to drop the "Not Gay" label, there was no denying what they have that previously remained dormant between their "platonic" relationship. They began experimenting until what some people called "kinky" became normative to them. Now, with both of them thoroughly exploiting each others limitations this conjoined development has put even Irene Adler's usual overly exaggerated sexual prowess to shame.

Currently both of them were sitting in Greg Lestrade's office waiting for Lestrade to return with the case statement papers. He'd visited 221B earlier with the intention of getting the pair down to the station. Little did Greg know that it wasn't him that convinced both of them to go. Oh no, It had all to do with John. Naturally Sherlock isn't going to report simply because Lestrade said they should. As usual John had to bribe Sherlock into doing something he didn't want to do. Although John must admit, in his defense, allowing Sherlock to do anything was undeniably stupid. He knows that…now. From John's perspective he had been thinking more across the lines of case experimenting at Barts or the kitchen or anywhere he'd usual deny Sherlock to work or bring into the flat. He was not expecting kinky sex play (although he should have). For someone who seems asexual, John knows first-hand how much of a façade that is. He learned the hard way that Sherlock is hornier than a teenage boy first discovering a lifetime supply of Playboy Magazines. Mostly because he was the object off all that attention. Not that he would have been complaining if they were safely back at home, except they're not.

Now John is stuck in Greg Lestrade's stupid office with a vibrator stuck up his arse. And being the genius that Sherlock is of course the bastard knew exactly where to position the toy before they left.

John stands awkwardly in the corner as Sherlock remains seated casually in front of Greg's desk. The occasional moan and whimper escaping John's lips as he desperately suppresses his pleasure. Each shift, adjustment, and sound causes a brief sly grin to tug at the side of Sherlock's lips. All John knows is that Sherlock's gonna get it when they get back to the flat!

"All right boys," Greg says strolling back into his office with the papers, "Just a brief statement as usual and you're both free to go."

Sherlock innocently turns towards John, whom is now leaning heavily against the wall. His face visibly flushed as he takes slow wavering breaths. Occasionally wincing and emitting small moans. His legs starting to shake from the visible strain of holding himself up. Just from a glance Sherlock can tell John's had at least two orgasms going by the way John's hands trembled and how unfocused John's gaze is. Particularly one from the cab ride over, and the other from waiting on Lestrade.

"Would you like to write the statement this time John?" An ingenuous look forming onto Sherlock's facial features as he holds out the pen for John to take. "You know how much I hate doing it."

John twitched angrily at Sherlock's sly performance, successfully able to draw Greg's attention towards his increasingly withering frame. He can't refuse now. It'd just look awkward. John forces a smile onto his face (even this took great effort. All he wanted to do was punch that mad bastard in the face).

"Of course."

A malicious smirk twitches again at Sherlock's lips which John dutifully ignores. The raging pervert! John takes his time making his way towards the pen and paper. Each step causing the seven inch vibrator inside his arse to rub right against his prostate. John bites his lip to suppress what he can, but some escape anyway. Greg looks on slowly beginning to notice the change in John's features. John covers his moans with a casual cough or clears his throat, which he can only hope sounds natural. Sherlock stares unblinkingly at John as he gets closer. Once close enough John snatches the pen from Sherlock's outstretched hand and begins to write their statement with shaking hands.

John's demeanor turns Sherlock on all the time. Whether it's John putting the pieces of a case together, or when he's declaring attention by yelling at him (which Sherlock pretends to ignore, and also pretends it doesn't arouse him when it stirs John up even more), or doing mundane things like showering or bending down to pick something up. Sherlock can't ignore him.

Greg looks suspiciously between the two. He may not be a genius but he's not stupid.

"Is there something going on here?"

He asks not really expecting the direct truth. Between John and Sherlock's relationship it's impossible to define what's real and what's not.

"N-No," John stumbles; quickly trying to recover. "Why would you say that?"

Greg then turns to Sherlock who hasn't taken his eyes off John for a second.

"Are you alright John?" Greg asks finally noticing the way the pen trembles in John's hands along with the beginnings of perspiration on his brown. "You just look…tense."

John's heaving gets audibly louder at Greg's observations. His cheeks instantly increase their pinkish tent. John refuses to respond. He doesn't trust himself to speak more than a two words.

"Why don't you take a seat?" Greg offers pointing towards the empty chair next to Sherlock. "You're starting to look a little…flushed or something."

John's face turns panicked slightly. By how fast the emotion vanishes Greg can tell he wasn't supposed to see it. No doubt Sherlock saw it too.

"Yes, Why don't you sit down John," Sherlock encourages as he opens his mouth since the first time he's been in the office. "Greg's right, you don't look so well."

John shoots Sherlock a look of pure dislike which completely shocks Greg.

"I'm fine." John says curtly before turning back to the paperwork. Greg gives a slight shrug, but Sherlock pushes anyway.

"I really think you should sit down John." Sherlock persists. "You need to take it easy."

John glances at Lestrade who shrugs his shoulders for the second time.

"Fine." John says shooting Sherlock another hateful glance.

Sherlock returns it easily with a cryptically victorious smile that has even Greg uneasy. John bits his lip as he looks worriedly at the empty chair, almost as if it did him wrong. Both he and Sherlock know what'll happen when he sits down. That 7 inch vibrator will press right against his prostate just like it did in the cab. It only took him 10 minutes to orgasm from the flat to Scotland Yard. Sherlock had managed to make him sexual frustrated throughout their previous case so naturally his first orgasm in over two weeks would be fast (especially since the normal for them is having sex at least twice a day).

John maneuvers himself in front of the chair; squatting down as gently as possible. Even bending is sending a titillating feeling throughout his body. Sherlock licks his lips in anticipation. His grey piercing eyes greedily soaking in John's every movement. When John's bum finally makes contact with the seat, John instantly twists his head off to the side out of view. His muscles flexing as he brings the remains of his frame down into the chair gently. His mouth opens releasing a staggering breath. The vibrator buzzes blissfully against his sensitive prostate like he knew it would. Intense and erotically hot. His insides clamp around the rod, begging for his release while he mentally tries to beckon it away. A soft grunt escapes from next to John. John turns towards the noise once he's fairly composed, making eye contact with Sherlock who's sitting as straight as a pillar. He has a deep concentrated look that John only sees when he's studying a crime scene. His usual light grey eyes now darkened with arousal as he's biting his bottom lip hard enough draw blood any second.

And that's when John spots it. A giant bulge forming in the center of the detective's black pants.

"John are you in pain?" Greg interrupts snapping both of them from their trance.

John hesitates as if weighing the options of admitting to a lie. John then nods eventually, because he still doesn't trust himself to speak.

"How about some ice then?" Greg says not waiting for a response. He excuses himself from the room to fetch an icepack, closing the door behind him.

The moment he's out of earshot, John emits a long nearly distressed moan that has Sherlock adjusting his trousers beside him.

"S-Sherlock. I c-cant…I don't think I can h-hold off any longer." John moans helplessly as the pen he had been holding so fearsomely drops from his hand. Sherlock doesn't respond. His lower half betraying him from the clear desperation laced within Johns plea.

"uggh…Ahhh!" John continues to moan beside him.

Sherlock watches idly as John smoothly grinds his arse into the chair beneath him. John's small hands gripping the arm rests of the chain until his knuckles turn white from the effort. John throws his head back allowing the sounds he'd previous restrained to escape. The pleasure ripping straight from his throat as if being summoned right out of him. There was no holding back now. He's too close, and way too far gone.

"nnughh…Sherlock. D-do something. Please!"

John begs, as a small amount of droll begins to form on the side of his mouth. The pleasure of two orgasms and one impending one getting the best of his sanity. John's rationality quickly diminishing with each passing second. Sherlock squeezes hold of his own pulsing erection through his black trousers, completely captivated by the imagery John's providing him. Only if John knew how erotic he looks every time he's overwhelmed by his own immense satisfaction. John takes not of Sherlock franticly jerking hand and reaches out towards him.

"J-John. I don't think I can wait until we get to the flat."

Sherlock finally states absentmindedly. John ignores him in favor of grabbing hold of Sherlock's pants. His hands beginning to scatter all over Sherlock's lower half. The hasty grouping hands causing Sherlock to wiggle away from them while still seated in his chair; looking like he was being tickled but far worse.

"G-Give Ahhh!" John huffs before trying again, He can't think straight anymore. "Give me the remote."

"No."

Sherlock refuses continuing to wiggle away from John's insistent hands. John grabs hold of Sherlock's erection causing Sherlock's eyes to roll briefly as a simultaneous jolt zaps throughout his body.

"Ahhh! God John!"

John doesn't waste any time. Quickly, he reaches into Sherlock's pockets pulling forth the remote for the vibrator before instantly increasing the setting. The item automatically intensifies resulting in immediate tremors to respond right where John's been craving them. His legs buckle causing him to land smack on top of Sherlock's erection.

"Ugh! John!"

Sherlock jumps at the fierce vibrations coming from John's arse against his lightly clothed hard-on. Both wiggling for separate reasons now. John grinding vigorously against the hardness of Sherlock member, and the jolts possessing his heated frame. Sherlock wiggles from trying to withstand and escape the pleasure caused by John. Sherlock has both hands on John's hip, keeping him centered and grounded on top of his lap. John pulls out his own erection from his pants, taking hold of the soft pulsating flesh and begins to masturbate. John takes hold of one of Sherlock's hands and draws it toward his penis. As Sherlock grabs hold of the hot throbbing rod, as John swiftly unzips Sherlock's trousers. Sherlock's large member bobs out from their restraints, eager to accept any type of attention. John pulls the rest of his pants down then grinds his naked well lubricated arse against Sherlock's now bear naked cock.

"Ahhh! Nuugh J-John!"

Sherlock's head flying backwards in response banging against the wall behind them, although too caught up in ecstasy to feel the resulting pain.

"S-Sher-Ohhh!" John moan turning wheezy know from holding out so long. He swears his lungs feel like they're collapsing. Like he's drowning from not getting enough air.

"N-Not fair J-John." Sherlock replies inevitably thrusting now, rocking his hips right along with John's lubricated arse.

"Don't ughh c-care, Sherlock."

John leans forward adding more pressure into their energetic activity. John's right hand goes flying backwards, taking hold of Sherlock's erection. He slips it between both of thighs causing Sherlock to subconsciously squeeze his cock tighter. Producing a twisting motion from the base of John's cock to the very tip. Pre-cum oozing from John slit as John rests his head back against Sherlock's shoulder.

"Ohhh g-gonna cum." John moans, droll rolling down his mouth now. "S-Sherlock I'm cumming!"

Sherlock can't concentrate. John's moans in his ear and his arse grinding the vibration right onto Sherlock's penis has Sherlock's body reacting like it's in some kind of insatiable frenzy.

"J-John. John, Ooohh!" His words rushed as he feels the oncoming rush. John slips his hand from Sherlock's slippery penis to Sherlock's drawn up balls. Massaging and kneading them with his proficient calloused fingers. They both feel it. Sherlock's orgasm just as imminent as John's now. He briefly wonders how John's held out so long. Army stamina.

"Sherlock! I cant-!"

With that John erupts. His mouth hangs open letting out a sharp cry. His body arches into the perfect angel, his insides convulsing chaotically around the buzzing rod stuck up his arse. One hand is clasping the arm rest while the other continues squeezing Sherlock's hypersensitive testicles.

"J-John Ahhh!"

Sherlock cums right after him. Ejaculation shooting high up on his shirt, as Sherlock's ethereal facial features morph into complete euphoria. Sherlock's legs remain shaking from the sheer force of his orgasm. John slumps against Sherlock's body completely exhausted. Tiredly, John turns off the vibrator with the remote as Sherlock rides out the rest of his rapturous high. His gaze still lost from the overwhelming exertion. John slips Sherlock back into his pants noting the wince Sherlock gives from sensitivity. John then puts himself back in order and wipes the droll off the side of his mouth, before moving out of Sherlock's lap.

Just then the door bursts open and Greg comes in with the icepack.

"I'm back," He announces not stopping to notice the different state that he'd left the pair in.

Sherlock immediately stands onto his feet, scribbles something down onto the statement paper, and grabs hold of John.

"Thank You Lestrade, but I think we'll just be on our way now."

Without making eye contact or taking the ice pack, both of them scurry out of Lestrade's office towards the exit before anyone can ask questions. Swiftly, flagging down a cab back to 221B.

"What was that all about?" Lestrade mutters to himself before spotting a remote sitting on the edge of his desk.

"Wonder where this goes to…" He mutters picking up the remote and setting it away in his draw to deal with later.