Authors: AnnieAmazing and junejuly15
Disclaimer: We don't own Sherlock, nor are we making any money by writing this. It's purely fiction and just for our own, selfish pleasure. Furthermore, it is not meant to insult anyone.
Rating: Strictly MA - no underage readers, or Mycroft will come and do unspeakably horrible things to you!
This is it, then. Here comes the (kind of really fluffy) sex. Enjoy reading and do leave a comment on your way out, telling us how you liked it, or if you disliked it, do let us know as well. Thank you. :)
John grinned against Sherlock's lips when he heard the purr escaping that beautiful, pale, long throat. The fingers in the back of Sherlock's neck kept drawing tingly circles, making the tiny hair there stand on end, goose flesh spreading all over Sherlock's arms and back.
They parted and locked gazes, Sherlock still purring, John chuckling. "You really are like a cat in so many ways," John whispered and pressed his lips to Sherlock's for another brief kiss.
Sherlock followed when John pulled back, trying to catch his mouth again, but John touched their foreheads together and closed his eyes, sighing contently. "John?" Sherlock enquired. His voice was rough and he cleared his throat.
The doctor opened his eyes in acknowledgement and couldn't help but smile at Sherlock's next words. "May I-" a sharp intake of breath from the detective, "I'd like to... keep kissing."
John licked his lips and bowed down to touch his mouth to Sherlock's once again, but this time he wouldn't keep up the simple, chaste movement of lips against lips. As he felt Sherlock responding, he opened his mouth to run his tongue along Sherlock's bottom lip, causing the detective to part his lips to let a surprised gasp escape. John used this moment to his advantage and sucked the lush flesh into his mouth, gently biting down and running his tongue along the inside.
They both moaned when the tips of their tongues gently brushed against each other, and suddenly, Sherlock put both hands on John's neck, clawing at the skin, pulling him impossibly closer and closer still as their tongues started to dance around each other, stroking, teasing.
The tiny noises escaping the back of that lean, white throat were taunting John, baiting him. He moaned as Sherlock's lips closed around his tongue, sucking on it, teeth timidly grazing across the willing flesh.
With a gasp, John pulled back, once again locking gazes with Sherlock, whose eyes were dark with lust, pupils blown so wide that almost nothing of the green-grey irises was visible anymore.
Sherlock groaned and tried to pull John back down to continue snogging him senseless, but the good doctor resisted. "Sherlock," he said, pushing the detective back into the seat with both his hands, and cleared his throat to steady his voice, "Sherlock, wait."
The detective pouted, but waited, dropping his hands to John's shoulders. "You're having second thoughts," he exclaimed evenly, certain of the correctness of his deduction.
But John shook his head. "I don't, Sherlock, believe me. I've never wanted anything or anyone like I want you. I have for a long time now," he said, his voice steady, honesty dripping from every last pore, love shining in his lust-darkened eyes.
Sherlock gulped. "But?" he asked, his teeth lightly digging into his bottom lip.
A smile spread across the good doctor's face. "But we should probably talk about this before we let it go any farther," he eventually explained and stroked the pad of his thumb along Sherlock's delicate cheekbone. "There is a point of no return, you know."
What makes you think I would ever want to undo this? I want this, all of this. I want you, John. Sherlock thought, but left it unsaid. Instead, he blinked, then nodded curtly. "Fine, say what needs saying, then."
John couldn't help but give a short laugh at this remark. "Well, first off, where are we going to take this? You seem pretty content snogging, but if we keep going on like that I'll have you right on this chair."
A defined brow rose towards the ceiling. "And?" came the impatient reply. John chuckled again and shook his head.
"And I have no bloody clue if you'd want it, or if you'd just let me do it because you think it would make me happy and keep me interested. I don't want to push you out of your comfort zone. Plus, this," he gestured between the two of them with an outstretched finger, "is unexplored territory for me and I-"
A finger on his lips cut him off. "Talk to much? Yes, indeed," Sherlock said with a smirk. Then, his face serious again, he added, "I never did this, or anything remotely like it with anyone before, John. I haven't the faintest idea how it's going to work." He took a shaky breath before he continued, "But I do know that I want you, every last bit of you, and I want to offer you everything I have to give. I want you to have me. Mark me, make me yours. I need you to."
John was rendered speechless. His breath taken away, he was gaping at his friend-gone-lover. Then, after several blinks and hastily inhaled breaths, he took Sherlock's face in both his hands and kissed him, offering all his love and devotion to him with this one, simple touch, stroking his thumbs along those incredibly high cheekbones.
"I love you," John panted when they parted again, eyes locked into each other. "God knows I love you, Sherlock, with everything I have, so much it hurts."
It was Sherlock's turn to stare, opening and closing his mouth with not a single syllable falling from his lips. He licked them and swallowed around the lump in his throat, once, twice and a third time, blinked and finally found his words again. "John," he whispered, but nothing else would come to mind. "John," he said again, his voice shaking with too many feelings crushing down on him, making his heart burn pleasantly and leaving him in the acute need for closeness. He did the only one thing he could think of and pulled John back down into a mind-consuming kiss.
"I want you, John."
. . .
Somehow, they had made it into Sherlock's bedroom, bumping into furniture, walls and door frames, stripping off shirts and socks and trousers along their way.
Sherlock's calves met the edge of his bed, but John kept pushing, causing the taller man to fall backwards rather gracelessly. He let out a huff of air when he hit the mattress, all but surprised, and propped himself up on his elbows.
John looked down at him, his ocean eyes roaming the beauty that was Sherlock. His gaze followed down the length of an alabaster neck, up and down an exposed, creamy-white, slightly flushed chest, catching for mere moments on hardened, pink nipples. He bit his bottom lip and inhaled sharply. This exposed beauty right in front of his eyes? Yeah, that was Sherlock, just waiting for him to leave his mark on that perfect, white skin. A strong feeling of something very raw, very basic surged through his veins, curling at his fingertips and toes, tickling at the base of his spine. Sherlock… mine.
Sherlock watched John watching him and felt blood creep up his already flushed cheeks. That feral look John gave him? That look of utter longing with a tint of surprise added to it? It made him feel not only desired, if made his heart swell and skip a beat, just to pound even stronger against his ribcage right afterwards. He, too, bit his bottom lip and closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply before looking back at John with glazed, half-lidded eyes, holding up his hand in invitation.
John didn't need to be asked twice - in fact, he didn't need to be asked at all. So he took the offered hand, intertwined their fingers and kneeled on the edge of the bed, crawling closer to Sherlock before straddling his hips.
The friction of John's arse rubbing against his erection had Sherlock gasp in surprise, but he instinctively lifted his pelvis to press up and create more contact still.
Meanwhile, John's free left hand stroked up and down Sherlock's torso, fingers ghosting over hotly flushed skin, his pointer circling one of those delicate rosy buds, only to lightly pinch it and elicit the most obscene moan from Sherlock. The sound of it alone made John's member become impossibly harder.
"So beautiful," he whispered in Sherlock's ear as he leaned down. He felt his lover shiver as his breath ghosted over a delicate earlobe that promptly got sucked into John's mouth. The action elicited another dark growl from deep down Sherlock's chest, a rumbling so feral, John was sure it had to be the most wonderful sound in the world.
Sherlock freed his hand from his lovers to put them on John's back, touching, feeling, caressing. He followed the line of strong shoulder blades with his fingertips, a ghostly, almost not noticeably touch that resulted in goose flesh spreading across John's back. He could feel him smile against his neck.
Then, a tongue, warm and wet, met the skin just below the junction of Sherlock's jaw and made him dig his fingers into warm skin. He moaned, and John moaned in response.
A pair of lips replaced the wetness of John's tongue, kissing first, then sucking lightly. Teeth scraped over hot skin, making Sherlock moan again, having him turn his head to the other side to grant his lover a better access.
John inwardly rejoiced at the sounds freeing themselves, his lips wandering farther down, tongue darting out to taste the slightly salty dampness of skin. He wanted to say how much he loved Sherlock, how much he wanted him, but he settled for lightly biting his collarbone instead, eliciting yet another helpless moan and fingernails digging deeper into his skin in response.
The hand not busy with holding him up continued roaming over Sherlock's chest, deliberately avoiding his nipples, just caressing with almost no pressure applied - a ghostly touch, designed to have his lover aching for more.
John sat back up, just looking down at the other man for a moment. Their eyes met, Sherlock's half-lidded gaze glossed over, pleading him. "Please," they seemed to whisper, and it was then that John threw all consideration and caution over board.
He smashed his lips to Sherlock's, forcing his lover's mouth open with his tongue, invading, not taking the time to taste but plundering, taking, sucking lips and tongue and making Sherlock moan darkly into his mouth. He lifted himself off his lover's lap, fingers shakily hooking into the waistband of Sherlock's black silk pants, pulling them down hastily when Sherlock lifted his hips in response, freeing the hot, throbbing erection.
He looked down at it from the corner of his eye, his tongue still roaming Sherlock's mouth, moaning into the kiss. With a last suck on a hot tongue he sat back up, again just looking at his lover for a moment before taking the hot, swollen knob into his hand, appreciating the silky feel of it, the heaviness, the warmth. A bead of pre-cum had formed at its tip and John rubbed his thumb over it, smearing it across the glans.
Sherlock bit his swollen bottom lip, unintentionally muffling the moan that was freeing itself from his throat, and clenched his eyes shut, lifting his hips again, pressing up against John's warm hand. His whole body ached for friction, burned with desire. All his actions pleaded for more contact, more heat, more everything.
"Please," he whisper-moaned through gritted teeth, "John, please."
John groaned hotly in response, placing a last kiss to the corner of his lover's mouth before descending farther southward, lips caressing the flushed skin of an otherwise creamy-white chest, closing around a pink nipple, sucking at it for mere seconds. All the while his thumb continued circling around Sherlock's glans, his other fingers applying soft pressure to the shaft, working slowly up and down, resulting in more frequent gasps and moans from Sherlock's throat.
"M-m-more," Sherlock stuttered and it was the last coherent thing he was able to say as he felt hot lips closing around the tip of his erection, sucking lightly, almost carefully.
John's tongue darted forward to lick at the glans experimentally. It tasted salty, but not unpleasantly so, and smelled of clean skin and sex. He enjoyed the feeling of hot, swollen skin against his tongue and fingers, and the sounds his actions forced out of Sherlock's mouth.
Stroking up and down the shaft again, applying more pressure now, John again closed his lips around the tip and sucked, harder this time. His lips travelled down, taking in more of Sherlock, deeper, deeper, more, more.
Sherlock felt warmth consuming him, warmth around his throbbing penis, warmth in his chest, warmth in his cheeks and his limbs, spreading into the farthest corner of his system, prickling at the tips of his fingers, making him curl his toes. He watched through half-lidded eyes as his erection disappeared into a hot, willing mouth, the sight making him groan. He weaved his fingers into John's short, sand-coloured hair, not strong enough to push him farther down, but indication he wanted to keep him there, doing just that, possibly forever. This felt… good. And so right. Oh. God. Yes.
. . .
Soft blond hair, like down, covering the small of the back. A smattering of freckles on the shoulder blades, a remnant of prolonged exposure to the sun. A mole on the base of the nape, almost in the centre, maybe half an inch to the right.
Sherlock squinted. Another, much smaller mole was right next to it, the two of them making an almost perfect pair. He leaned down to kiss the marks on John's skin, a feather light touch, far too weak to wake his sleeping lover. He hovered over the soft skin, widening his nostrils to inhale the scent clinging to John's skin. A mixture of sleep, sex and John's own scent - spicy and sweet.
Sherlock fought the impulse to rest his head on John's back, fought the urge to wholly envelop him with his warmth, with his love. Instead he lay down next to him, as close as possible without disturbing him, he had no wish to wake him, to rob him of his sleep. Not now, not yet, no need to hurry, no need to rush - not anymore.
Sherlock buried his nose in John's hair and closed his eyes. A sense of homecoming, of peace and calm settled over him, making his limbs heavy, pleasantly weighing him down.
Now was the moment he had been waiting for, unconsciously all his life, and consciously these last hours - now was the right moment.
"I love you."
