How it had happened, neither of them remembered, the only thing they knew, was that they happened to be lying next to each other, with little more than a quilt to cover them both.
Whilst one man felt uncomfortable, and was trying to disguise his erection, the other was rubbing his leg, and making it difficult to disguise much longer.
"Sherlock..." John said, trying not to moan, hitting the other mans hand, in a desperate attempt to stop him. "Sher-umfng! Don't do that!" He groaned slightly, successfully whipping away Sherlock's hand from his penis. "I mean it!"
But Sherlock had that glint in his eye, and he could feel John's hand moving closer to him across the bed, and that's when he felt it. That warm feeling, somewhere between his stomach and his chest. The warm feeling he only got from John. "Oh..." he smiled, feeling John's hand reach his groin, but not going further; he could feel John's fingers touching him, and it made him smile, and it made the blood rush to all the right places. He could feel his heart, threatening to race, and he could feel himself getting harder by the second.
"Not complaining now, are you?" John asked, as his hand finally touched the part of Sherlock that he had been reaching for. He felt Sherlock harden in his grasp, and learned, from the facial expressions he saw, that Sherlock was enjoying it.
For the first time, words had escaped him, and Sherlock just lay there, pushing his head in John's direction, implanting his lips on his neck, reaching for his penis, as John had reached for his, and feeling it, hardened, and ready for him. He brushed it in much the same manner that John was doing to his; slowly, teasing.
Half an hour had passed, both men were locked in an embrace, threatening to bit one anothers neck; Sherlock already had managed to bite into John's bottom lip, which was now bleeding a lot less heavily than it had been doing earlier. But neither of them seemed to care - Sherlock certainly didn't care that the left hand side of his neck was covered in his lovers blood.
They were sat upright, heads occasionally banging the headboard, voicing occasionally shouting through the wall; occasionally hearing , the landlady, slamming the door downstairs.
Sherlock smirked loudly, as once again the couple heard the front door slam loudly, but other than that, they were both completely lost in passion. Sherlock's long, thin, yet strong legs, were wrapped around John's waist and John's around Sherlock's. So close, they were, that their erections pressed against each other.
"ONFGH!" Sherlock shouted, reaching a climax feeling, pulling John closer, and closer, feeling him ejaculate on his inner thigh. In an attempt to make the climax last, the two men continued to push against other furiatively until neither could take any more.
"That..." Sherlock said, his head bouncing against his pillow, feeling his heart, still pounding against his ribcage, breathing heavily, and looking at John. "Was..."
John nodded, lying back down also. "That," he said. "Was." He smiled, kissing Sherlock, leaving him with blood on the right side of his neck also. "It was."