Warnings: Much of the porn, as promised, so once again please don't read if you don't like this kind of thing :)
They fell onto Sherlock's bed, kissing hard, hands frantically exploring each others bodies.
"Clothes," John managed to gasp. "Too many clothes."
Sherlock grunted in agreement, making quick work of John's shirt buttons and peeling the damp fabric away from his skin. John's hands went to Sherlock's trousers, unbuttoning and unzipping them but unable to help himself from rubbing Sherlock's erection through the material. Sherlock moaned into John's mouth.
"Touch me, John."
He thrust up into John's hand, impatiently. John was very briefly torn between giving Sherlock what he wanted and making him wait, driving him mad with the anticipation, but decided against it, too aroused to be bothered with games right now. So he complied with Sherlock's request, slipping his hand inside both trousers and underwear to caress his hardness. They both moaned at the contact, mouths still kissing and sucking and nipping. John's growing arousal was making him desperate for some contact, some friction, anything, so he guided Sherlock's hand to the bulge in his jeans and groaned when Sherlock rubbed him hard. A moment later Sherlock had unbuttoned and unzipped him and was pulling his jeans and boxers down enough to wrap his long fingers around John's cock. John was groaning again, scrambling to unbutton Sherlock's shirt, touching his skin, breaking away from his lips to trail kisses down his neck. Sherlock gasped softly and John smiled against his skin and licked up his neck to the spot just behind his ear, feeling the gentle tickle of curls still damp with raindrops against his face.
"You like that?" John whispered hoarsely in his ear.
Sherlock shivered slightly and managed to nod, still grinding against the hand that John had wrapped around him. John moved against Sherlock as he kissed and licked at his neck before opening his mouth wider to suck at the soft flesh, leaving pale red marks. As Sherlock moaned again, his movements increasing in pace, it occurred to John that this wasn't going to last long. But he wasn't going anywhere and they had plenty of time to explore each other, to test each others limits. So he surrendered, capturing Sherlock's lips with his own, devouring Sherlock's moans, thrusting against him, craving more friction, craving release. They came within seconds of one another, John spurred on by Sherlock's strangled cry and his tight grip of John's hair.
For several minutes they just lay there recovering, then Sherlock twisted his head around and caught John's lips in a soft yet insistent kiss, his fingertips stroking the skin just above John's groin which was sticky with semen. He moved his hand up to suck on his own fingers, licking and tasting, and it wasn't long before John found himself getting hard again despite the release they'd both just had. John pulled him in for another deep kiss, finding the vague taste of himself lingering on Sherlock's tongue strange but not unpleasant. He trailed his fingers down Sherlock's spine and felt Sherlock shiver slightly in his arms.
"John," he whispered breathily, and waited till he had John's full attention. "I want you to fuck me."
John's breath hitched, caught off guard and ridiculously turned on by the words. He carefully brushed a curl back from Sherlock's face, considering the beautiful man beside him, feeling his vulnerability.
"Are you sure?"
Sherlock just nodded, his incredible eyes still dark with passion.
"Are you sure you wouldn't rather fuck me?"
"There will no doubt be time for that later," Sherlock replied in the especially deep voice that drove John mad with desire. "Right now I want to feel you...I want to be close to you...I just want you, John. I need you. And I trust you completely, I want you to know that."
And he didn't even care how that sounded or about the fact that he never thought he had never before admitted to wanting, let alone needing anyone, ever. But this was John. John who changed all the rules, who made him feel things he didn't even know he was capable of. John didn't reply - instead kissing Sherlock softly but in a way that promised delicious things to come - and Sherlock hummed contently. They stayed that way for several moments, all gentle kisses and soft caresses, until things started heating up again. John pulled away, moving to finish removing Sherlock's trousers and boxers then his own, then straddling Sherlock's hips. He hardly knew what he was doing but it didn't seem to matter and he didn't feel nervous, just euphoric with a strong, sublime edge of adrenaline. He slowly stripped Sherlock of his shirt, kissing his way down his neck, his teeth grazing the sharp collarbones, his tongue dipping into the hollow where Sherlock's neck met his chest. Then he made his way further down, only now properly realising that they were both completely naked now, completely exposed to one another. He took a moment to admire Sherlock's body- the vast expanse of creamy flesh, the toned muscles, the pronounced hollows and hip bones. He trailed kisses down Sherlock's chest as Sherlock's fingertips carded through his hair, stopping at his left nipple and kissing it tenderly. Sherlock's soft moan turned into a hiss when John sucked it into his mouth, using his teeth ever so slightly to tease the sensitive flesh. He continued this as he allowed his hand to roam down Sherlock's body to his half hard cock, touching him lightly. He stroked him slowly for a few moments, moving his attentions to Sherlock's right nipple, and felt Sherlock's erection growing. John was also getting harder and harder, and he rubbed himself against Sherlock's thigh as he tightened his grip on Sherlock.
"John, please," Sherlock cried out brokenly.
John silenced him with a kiss and moved his hand to gently squeeze Sherlock's balls, then move further back, his fingers stroking softly.
"Sherlock, I'm going to need-"
"Top draw of the table beside you," Sherlock replied breathlessly.
John grinned at Sherlock's organisation but was at the same time very grateful for it, and he reached into the draw and found what he needed. When he turned his attention back to Sherlock he thought that he looked slightly nervous. John kissed him tenderly, sliding one hand into his hair.
"Are you sure you're ready for this? There's no hurry," John said gently, still massaging Sherlock's head slowly.
"I'm sure," he replied without hesitation, "it's just...new."
John nodded.
"It's new for me too."
Sherlock pulled him down and kissed him again, harder this time, grinding against John slightly and moving so his legs were spread further apart. John moved his hand back down, coating his fingers with the lubricant, and resuming his gentle stroking of Sherlock's entrance as he kissed him, Sherlock still moving against him. Sherlock moaned soft and low into John's mouth and John slowly, as carefully as possible, eased a finger inside him. Sherlock made a noise that was somewhere between pain and pleasure and kissed John hard, hand planted firmly on the back of John's head. John kissed back, his tongue exploring Sherlock's mouth as he slowly moved his finger, starting to feel Sherlock relax around him. He waited until Sherlock started grinding against him before adding a second finger, once again feeling Sherlock tense and then slowly relax. He dropped his head to Sherlock's neck again, kissing and nuzzling him as he moved his fingers inside Sherlock.
"Does that feel alright?" he whispered into Sherlock's hair.
"Feels good," he moaned incoherently, moving his hips against John's hand, wanting more.
John increased the pace of his movement, insanely turned on by Sherlock's moans, and continued until he was satisfied that Sherlock was ready for more. He gently withdrew his fingers and Sherlock whimpered slightly at the loss of contact.
John hadn't been with anyone since a few months before Sherlock had disappeared, his situation having proven to make dating almost impossible. And after he'd gone, John had struggled to even contemplate being with anyone else, something that had been confirmed very quickly the one or two times he'd attempted a date. He'd been tested since then and knew that he was clean. He started to quietly explain this to Sherlock, who reached up and kissed him before he could finish.
"I trust you."
John kissed him then pulled away, looking into Sherlock's eyes, scanning them for any trace of hesitation or panic. He found none. Just a haze of arousal, longing, a hint of nervous anticipation, and something more significant than all of these that he suspected was mirrored in his own face. Then slowly, carefully, John pushed into Sherlock, a wave of emotions rolling over him. It felt surreal, yet perfect and right and incredible.
Sherlock drew in a sharp breath and gripped John's shoulders hard. John stilled, allowing Sherlock to get used to the sensation.
"Okay?" he whispered, placing tiny kisses down Sherlock's brow, cheek and lips.
Sherlock nodded, his eyes still tightly closed, his breath heavy. He whimpered slightly and John kissed him, stroked his cheek.
"Am I hurting you?" he asked, worried.
Sherlock shook his head, opening his eyes to look into John's.
"I'm fine. I just need to adjust."
"Try to relax," John replied, stroking his hair and temple soothingly and placing a gentle kiss on his lips.
Then he moved away from his mouth to ghost tiny kisses down his neck and back up again, still holding him close. They stayed like that for a few more moments, staring into each others eyes, stroking each others faces, breathing and allowing the gravity of the moment to rest upon them. Then Sherlock slowly pushed up against John's hips, eliciting a groan from both of them as John slid deeper inside him. Taking his lead, John slowly started moving, keeping his strokes deep and rhythmic, observing Sherlock's reactions closely and feeling and sensing him relax. He suddenly felt overwhelmed by the surge of sensations, by the intensity of his feelings for the man beneath him, and he buried his face in Sherlock's neck with a soft whimper. Sherlock stroked his hair softly, kissing his temple.
"Are you okay?"
John nodded, pulling his head back up to meet Sherlock's eyes.
"You're just so...beautiful."
Sherlock smiled up at him, tracing gentle patterns across John's shoulders.
"You're amazing, John Watson."
John kissed him deeply, increasing the pace of his movement slightly. Sherlock was moaning beneath him in the most delicious way, his breath now shallow, his eyes impossibly dark.
"Harder," he managed to gasp.
John complied, still watching Sherlock closely to make sure he was enjoying it.
"Oh god," Sherlock cried as John hit a very sensitive spot. "Right there, John. Please."
John thrust into him hard, his world crumbling around him at the sight of Sherlock coming so deliciously undone. He tried to lock it in his mind- the way Sherlock moved against him, the noise he made with each of John's thrusts, his dark eyes and parted lips, the heaving of his chest as he struggled to suck in enough air. He knew that Sherlock was rapidly approaching the edge and that he himself wouldn't be far behind him. He trailed his lips down Sherlock's neck once again, licking and sucking then biting softly. As he did so, he moved his hand down between them, stroking Sherlock's hard cock. Sherlock gasped at the contact, hand threading into John's hair.
"John, I'm going to..."
"Just let go, Sherlock. Give yourself to me," John whispered hotly into Sherlock's ear.
Sherlock groaned desperately and John bit down on his neck. Then Sherlock came with a strangled cry of John's name, clinging to John and spilling into his hand, so beautifully and utterly out of control. It was enough to push John over the precipice and he was suddenly tumbling into blissful oblivion, shuddering as his orgasm tore through him ferociously, wave after wave of pleasure rippling over him as he came deep inside Sherlock.
They collapsed onto each other in a sweaty, satisfied tangle of limbs, breathing heavily. It was several long minutes before either of them moved or spoke, content to simply lie in each others arms. Eventually John conjured up enough energy to roll over and pull Sherlock onto him to rest on his chest. He let his fingers slip into Sherlock's hair, stroking the soft tendrils gently.
"That was…amazing," he said languidly, and smiled contentedly as he felt Sherlock move to place a few tiny kisses on his neck.
"Absolutely."
John could tell that the other man was exhausted, and he suspected that it wasn't just because of the physical exertion. He wondered, with a note of concern, when Sherlock had last slept.
"You should get some sleep," he said sleepily, fingers still spidering through Sherlock's hair.
Sherlock didn't reply right away, letting his hand move gently and rhythmically down John's chest almost unconsciously.
"Why are you so good to me, John?" he murmured into John's hair.
"Because you're a good man," John replied without having to think, his hand stilling.
Sherlock hesitated.
"What if I'm not? What if I disappoint you?" he asked quietly.
"You won't. Just be yourself and you won't."
"But I already have once before."
John kissed his temple lightly, stroking his hair again.
"Things will be different now. We're in this together. No secrets, no excuses. Yes?"
"Yes," Sherlock whispered in reply. "I promise."
And with that he snuggled into John's chest, allowing his heavy eyelids to slip shut finally, basking in the unfamiliar and terrifying yet strangely wonderful feeling of being loved.
Author's note: Hope you all enjoyed this (very smutty) chapter. Please let me know what you thought. Only one more to go now! Thanks to everyone who has been reading and reviewing xx
