John pulled back from the kiss and smiled. "Well, I'm off. Have fun."
"I will. Remember, four tiers, blue flowers-"
"Silver icing, I know, I know."
Sherlock chuckled and grabbed John's chin. "I'll miss you."
"No you won't." John scoffed and wrapped a hand around Sherlock's wrist.
"Well I'll miss not being able to do this whenever I want..." Sherlock leaned down and kissed John, his arm snaking round his waist to support him.
"Well..." John paused. "I suppose that is something to miss."
"Oh, indeed." Sherlock brought his lips to John's again for another kiss. When John's lips parted and granted him access, Sherlock's tongue brushed against his slowly and gently, knowing exactly what he wanted.
John groaned and leaned against Sherlock, thankful that his arm was still wrapped around his waist. "Do you see what you do to me?" John broke away, panting.
"Yes. I must admit- it's fun to watch you go all weak and light-headed."
John shot Sherlock a 'shut up' look and glanced at his watch. "Sure you don't wanna come?"
"Are you kidding? I've got a dead-body filled day today, I'm not missing out on that."
"I'm guessing it's been a while since you've had a dead body case."
"So I'm a little excited, shoot me."
"There's something else I'd much rather do..." John trailed off with a wink.
Sherlock's eyes widened and he gave a quiet laugh. "Oh, well the case isn't that fun."
"No, no. Take your case. Just wait, tonight might be the night."
"Might?"
John planted a quick kiss on Sherlock's kiss and walked to the door, leaving him with a slightly annoyed face.
"Wait, is it tonight or not?" Sherlock shouted after him.
Laughing, John closed the door and raced down the stairs.
About half an hours walk later, John found himself infront of a florists. The shop was large, and the fragnant smell of sweet flowers filled the room. The shop seemed to have every type of flower John could think of, and some more he didn't know. Their was lillies and roses, tulips and gaint daisies, all in huge colourful groups throughout the room. The sun shone down on him, the bright rays matching his mood. Smiling, John pushed open the door, the tinkling of the bell bringing a smiling assisstant up to him. Her light brown hair was short and curly and her hazel eyes were kind. She looked about nineteen.
"Hey! Can I help you with anything?"
"Yes, thanks. I'm getiing married in three months and I wanted to book you guys for the flowers?"
"Oh! Congradulations. That's fine, just come over here please." The girl walked over to the desk and pulled out a notepag and a scrapbook. "This is a scrapbook of some bouquets that our customers like. You dont have to pick one of these, you can have yours custom made, this is just for ideas and prices."
"Oh, right. What ones do you have of lilies? That's whay my partner wants."
"Lilies, beautiful choice." The girl smiled and opened to page 24-25These are some lilies that other customers have chosen. Do you like any of them?"
John looked over the pages before settling on a small bouquet of four pure white lilies. "These ones, I like these."
"Very prettty. What colour of ribbon do you want to bind them?"
"Is one blue and one silver okay?"
"Thats fine, what shade of blue?"
"Erm, dark blue, please."
"Okay. So what do you want with the flowers? Table decorations?"
"Well, our original hall is huge but since it's a small wedding, we moved to a smaller hall where there's about ten tables. So ten sets of four for the tables, one for the maid of honour. Three corsages, although just small blue flowrers for them. And a bunch of them for our arch too. If lilies are to difficult to put on the arch then we can do dark blue and white? Or silver if you could do that."
"We can do the arch with the blue flowers, definitely. For silver flowers, we can either use artificial, or paint them. Or use white even."
"Erm...I think we'll go with just blue thanks. Dark blue, actually."
"Okay then!" The woman got out a calculator and added up the cost. "£570. Is that okay?"
John nodded. "That's fine, thanks."
"Do you want to pay a deposit?"
"Actually, I'll just pay for it now if that's okay."
"That's fine. Card?
"Uh, yeah, thanks." John slipped Sherlock's card into the slot and typed in his pin.
"Thanks. So when do you want it all done for?"
"June 14th."
"Blimey! That's close!"
"But manageable?"
The girl sighed, put her hands on her hips and smiled. "Manageable."
"Great! Thankyou." John smiled widely.
"No problem. Just write down the venue?"
"My pleasure." John wrote down the address on the woman's note pad and, with a spring in his step, walked outside and called for a taxi.
After paying the taxi driver, John stepped out infront of the little bakers. It was quaint and sweet, with pale pink walls and a sign with yellow cursive writing that read Christie's cakes. As he stepped inside, the little room was filled with people bustling about buying pastries and cakes. He joined a que, and after a few minutes was greeted by another smiling girl. Her pale brown hair was scraped back into a bun and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses sat on the end of her nose.
"Hi, what can I do for you?"
"Hi. Erm, I was actually wondering if Icould get a cake for my wedding."
"Oh, sure. Custom made?"
"Yeah, thanks."
"Right, just wait over there and our head baker will see you in a minute."
John nodded and sat at a small table at the side of the room. In a minute, an old lady sat opposite him, her iron locks falling loosely around her waist. Her eyes were dark blue and she had crinkles by her mouth, as if she spent all her time smiling.
"Hi, there. I'm Chistie."
"The Christie?
"The one and only. How can I help?"
"I'm actually wondering if I could get a cake for my wedding."
"Oh, congradulations. What are you looking for?"
"Well my fiance wants four tiers, white fondant. Also, blue flowers up the side and silver piping."
"Okay, so..." Christie sketched out the cake on her notepad. "...like this?"
"Yes, yes that's perfect."
"Good. What sponge?"
"Well we can't have chocolate because my brother-in-law is crazy about dieting. So I guess just plain would be okay, maybe one tier could be red velvet?"
"That's no problem. And writing or figures on the cake?"
"Erm, no. That's not really my fiance's thing."
"Your fiance seems like a very assertive person." Christie laughed.
"Yes... he is." John cringed, as if expecting a bad reaction, but Christie merely smiled and continued sketching the cake.
"Well, as long as you love him, eh?"
"Yeah." John smiled greatfully.
"So, for piping? Swirls? Loops?"
"Erm...you can do what you like with that. Just nothing too flashy, it's quite a quiet wedding."
"No problem, dear. When do you want it for?"
"June 14th."
"Alright. Will you pick it up or do you want it delivered?"
"I'll pick it up, thanks."
"That's fine. That'll come to about...£230. Would you like to pay now in advance?"
"Yeah, I might as well." John followed Christie to a card machine and slotted the plastic in. A few moments later, the cake was paid for.
"Love to meet you." Christie shook his hand and smiled again.
"Thanks, you too."
Sherlock lay on the couch, his satin robes tied loose around his hips. It felt so good to finally be out in the field again, finally geting back to solving mysteries and working his brain to the max. Now that he'd finished, though, the high seemed to be wearing off and he found himself yearning for John. He's lain there for about two hours, waiting. How long could it take for flowers and cake? Too long, Sherlock thought. Suddenly the sound of footsteps could be heard as John walked up the stairs. Walking in, he cast an eye at Sherlock and chuckled.
"What are you doing?"
"Waiting for you."
"I can't decide if that's cute or sad."
"Let's go with cute. Unless sad gets me pity."
"Why do you want pity?"
"Because with pity there's a chance of more..."
"More what?"
"Pleasureable activities."
"Pity sex?"
"Well I was trying to phrase it nicely, but sure."
"I'll go with cute, actually. Pity sex isn't very romantic."
"True. Alright, I'm cute."
"And modest, let's not forget modest."
"I'm really not."
"Shut up. Anyway, want to come shopping with me?"
"Why? Can't reach the top shelf?"
"Sometimes I hate you, you know that?"
"Yeah, but you love me more."
"True, you're my favourite asshole."
"How touching."
"I do try."
"It's clear. So, shopping it is then."
"Yep. Wait, that means I have to get changed."
"Oh, you are clever."
"I don't wanna get changed. You change me."
"Why? You're a grown man."
"Well excuse me for giving you an oppertunity for seeing my body...again."
"You say that like I should feel privelaged."
"You know you do, don't lie."
John laughed and raised an eyebrow. "Dressing you isn't what I had in mind to be honest."
"What did you have in mind?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow and faced John.
"I think you can guess."
"Maybe..."
"Maybe what?" John walked over and stradled Sherlock, his hands on his chest.
"Maybe shoping can wait til tomorrow." Sherlock gulped, his eyes on John.
John leaned down and whispered in his ear, "I think I can manage that."
Sherlock shivered and pulled John's jumper over his head, and then his t-shirt. His hands roamed his fiance's body, fingers trailing over the smooth muscles. "Who would guess you're so...tough and muscley..." he wondered, his eyes staring hungrily at John.
"Wool jumpers hide a lot."
"Indeed they do."
John tightened his legs around Sherlock's hips. His lips pressed against Sherlock's, his tongue delving deep and slow when granted access. Sherlock groaned and put a hand on John's neck, pulling him closer. Deviously, John ground his body against Sherlock's whilst kissing, tightening his legs around Sherlock's hips.
"Jesus, John. Why do you do this to me?" Sherlock broke away and blushed, very aware of the bulge in his pants.
"Payback." John winked and undid the knot of Sherlock's robe.
"Are we going to practice tonight?" Sherlock's breathing was quick and his eyes were locked on John's.
"You know what? I think we just might."
"In that case, I suggest the bedroom."
"I think you're right."
Sherlock sat up and quick as a flash, hoisted John up around his waist and kicked the door to his bedroom open. He lay John down on the bed gently and sat in front of him. Grinning, he eased John's trousers down till he was lying in just his boxers, a look of excitement on his face.
Suddenly Sherlock looked afraid, and he looked at John. "Help me."
"Sherlock, Sherlock. Calm down. It's alright, okay? Just relax. Breathe."
Sherlock took a few shaky breaths and attemped to slow his hummingbird of a heart. "John, I-I don't know what to do. I don't want to mess this up."
"You wont, you wont. All you need is practice. I know this isn't your element, Sherlock. If you wanna stop then we'll stop."
"I want to be good. I want to be like you, but I just don't know how."
John cupped his face. "Sherlock, relax. It's natural, I promise. Just do what you feel like, okay?"
"You'll tell me if I do something wrong?"
"Yes." John smiled gently and kissed him softly.
Sherlock breathed slowly and nodded. He could do this. Slowly, he pulled John's boxers down and placed his hands around John's cock. With a deep breath, he tried to copy John's actions, and slowly moved his hands up and down. John's own hands wrapped around Sherlock's, guiding him.
"That's all there is to it." He smiled, before leaning back and letting Sherlock continue on his own.
Sherlock, filled with a new confidence at John's approval, gave a silent laugh and pumped him faster.
"Tighter." John uttered, his eyes closed. His breathing was fast.
Shherlock obeyed and squeezed tighter, remembering how John went slow when he squeezed. Copying his actions again, Sherlock lost speed until he was pumping John incredibly slowly.
"Is this good?" He asked nervously.
"Are you fucking kidding? Sow and tight- It's like..." John's voice was laboured, like most of his energy was directed on the pleasure.
"Is that a good thing?"
"Yes. Fuck yes, it's like a good torture..."
"Oh, that's good then."
"Stop talking."
Sherlock grinned and pumped John faster, surprised when John's hips bucked in motion. Was he doing good? He thought he was, anyway. Good for a first time.
John's back arched and he hissed to Sherlock, "Move. Tissue, now."
Sherlock rolled to the side and plucked a tissue from the bedside table, handing it to John just in time. John cummed into the tissue and, empy of all energy, leaned out the bed and put it in the bin.
"So... how did I do?"
"Hm? Good. Good. Very good."
"Okay for-for a first time?"
John squeezed Sherlock's hand and smiled gently. "For someone who's never done anything like this, you've done fantasticly. I remember how nervous I was on my first time with a girl, and even then with you. It's never easy, but you managed perfectly."
"Always room for improvement though..." Sherlock winked and settled under the covers, soon joined by John.
"Oh, yes, Always." John laughed and turned out the light, waiting for tomorrow to come.