John was walking up the stairs of the hotel, each step labored and heavy, and instantly regretted not sleeping. Just walking up the flight of stairs was exhausting and he wasn't really up for a conversation. Unfortunately he wasn't up for turning around and going back to Martin's room, so this was his only option. He could only hope Sherlock was asleep so he could immediately pass out on the couch.

When he got to the room, the door was unlocked. He gently turned the handle and looked inside. Sherlock was lying on the couch, his eyes closed but John could tell he wasn't sleeping. The moment the door closed, Sherlock sat up and stared at John with an eerie intensity. John slipped off his coat and threw it onto the closest chair. He kicked off his soaked through shoes before bending down to peel off his equally wet socks. He could feel the weight of Sherlock's eyes on him but he didn't engage. Instead he walked into the bathroom to alleviate himself.

He knew Sherlock wouldn't keep up the stony silence for long. Eventually he would demand answers, ones John didn't know he could give. He hadn't really come to a decision about what to do beyond facing the problem. Now that he'd done that, he had no idea what came next.

He opened the door to find Sherlock standing there, making him jump a bit. "You came back." He said with his eyes raking over John like a fine toothcomb.

"Of course I did. What did you think, that I had hopped on a plane back to London?"

"The thought had crossed my mind."

"Well, I didn't."

"Then where were you?" Sherlock asked even though he probably had a good idea. John finally allowed himself to glance up at Sherlock. His eyes were red and a bit bloodshot, which meant he hadn't slept either. John was somewhat flattered although Sherlock was known to keep strange hours. There was no reason to assume his lack of sleep was on his account.

"I went to have a chat with Martin." John answered as vaguely as possible.

"You've been drinking." Sherlock said accusingly.

"Just a little."

"Did you kiss him?"

"What?" John's jaw dropped. Sherlock usually avoided asking John about his love life. To have him come right out and ask was surprising. John chewed on his bottom lip and looked up at his friend. Sherlock's face was twisted in pain, his eyes dark and sad, the corners of his mouth turned down. John had never seen him look so raw or emotional, so human. It was as if the idea of John kissing Martin caused him actual physical pain. John decided to put his mind to rest. "I didn't kiss Martin. He's straight anyway."

"So was the that museum curator." Sherlock pointed out, his face returning to its usual status now that John had put him out of his misery.

"Oh for fuck's sake. We only went on a few dates, we never even shagged. You make it sound like I walk around London turning men gay."

"Not at all. But you do seem to have a strong effect on people."

"Do I now?" John grinned in amusement.

"Of course. I've experienced it first hand."

"Yes, I see what you mean, it only took me an entire year. I must be magic." John's words dripped with sarcasm and he snorted before moving around Sherlock to get to his suitcase.

John bent down and opened the case, searching for his pajamas. There didn't seem to be any, showing just what Sherlock had planned for the weekend. Yet Sherlock had packed the tuxedo he'd worn to Harry's wedding, which hadn't been worn since. Of course that was necessary on their trip. John shook his head and searched for anything he could substitute for pajamas.

When he turned around, Sherlock was pacing in that manic way of his. His teeth were gritted and every once in a while he would reach up and ruffle his hair. "It's all gone wrong." He muttered to himself.

"What has? What are you talking about?" John asked, following Sherlock's movements with his eyes.

"I should have planned better. It was supposed to go smoothly. I thought a private jet would mean fewer distractions. I couldn't have anticipated—"

"Sherlock, will you stop?" John growled, grabbing him by the shoulders and forcing him to sit on the couch. "Now, tell me what's wrong."

"As if you didn't know." Sherlock's eyes flickered up and locked with John's. They stared at each other, neither of them blinking or looking away. John's thoughts returned to what Martin earlier words. Like Foreplay he had said.

"Sherlock?" John said gently, waiting for Sherlock to say something, to explain.

Sherlock lifted his head a bit and pressed his lips to John's. It was a quick kiss, just a peck really and then it was over. "John, I—"

John didn't let him finish. He grabbed a fistful of Sherlock's shirt and pulled him in for another kiss. It was awkward and strange and Sherlock wasn't really kissing him back. It wasn't at all the passionate kiss he'd been expecting when he'd pulled Sherlock back in. John had closed his eyes when they'd kissed but he opened them and saw Sherlock's lids were closed but his eyes were moving rapidly underneath. Oh God, he's over thinking things.

John knew he had to take control of the situation fast. He pushed on Sherlock's shoulder, forcing him back against the couch. He moved his body into the space Sherlock had just vacated, kneeling in between Sherlock's legs. John parted his lips and sucked greedily on Sherlock's bottom lip. There were so many things he wanted to do to that man, so many things he'd been imagining over the last year. But he couldn't. It was obvious Sherlock was inexperienced. Yes Sherlock was a grown man but John couldn't continue without feeling like he was taking advantage.

He pulled his lips away and Sherlock made a sort of whimpering sound. "Maybe we should talk about this first." He said biting his lip nervously.

"John, you really must learn when to shut up." Sherlock said grabbing him by the nape of his neck and pulling him back in. John tangled his fingers into Sherlock's hair and pulled his head back, slipping his tongue into Sherlock's mouth. He was enjoying being taller for once and being in control but he could tell Sherlock wasn't.

He kissed down Sherlock's jaw line and yanked his shirt down to suck on Sherlock's collarbone. Sherlock had gone rigid, his body weirdly still. John was trying to get Sherlock out of his own head but it seemed like that wasn't going to happen. John dislodged himself from Sherlock's neck with a sigh and rested his head on his shoulder.

"This isn't going to work, is it?" John was trying to hide his disappointment and failing miserably. This was what he had been afraid of. "Fuck. Jesus. Fuck."

John got off the couch quickly and got as far away as possible without leaving the room. He really wanted to bolt, to actually get on a plane to London and quickly grab what he needed to never come back for a very long time. He pressed his back against the wall, wishing he could disappear into it entirely. He thudded his head against it, chastising himself for being such a fucking idiot. He wanted this so badly, it was like an ache in his stomach and now he'd made a right mess of everything.

"Look Sherlock, we'll just forget any of this happened. You can delete it or however that works and I'll be too ashamed to mention it again. All settled."

"John." Sherlock said his name affectionately while looking at him like he was an idiot. He got off the sofa and walked over to him. "I am not one for losing control and it was surprising, which is why I reacted the way I did. It was not because I didn't enjoy it." He pressed his body against John's until they connected at the lips. Sherlock parted his experimentally, letting John in. Their tongues met, crashing together and pulling apart in waves. Sherlock pulled away to breath, resting his forehead against John's. "You're going to have to be patient with me John. This is all still quite new to me. I wonder if you might indulge me—"

"Anything." John cut him off. Sherlock raised an eyebrow, surprised by his response. John gave him a lopsided grin. "Oh God, Sherlock, anything."

Sherlock grinned in response, rather wickedly, John thought to himself. Sherlock slim fingers gripped the bottom of John's jumper and pulled it up over his head. John raised his arms to make the movement go more smoothly and then placed them back at his sides. He knew that no matter what Sherlock had in mind, he would let him.

Sherlock expertly began unbuttoning John's shirt and slipped it off his shoulders. His eyes landed on John's scar, staring at it in fascination. John shuffled his feet feeling self-conscious about it. A pale slender finger brushed against it, trailing the mark on John's body.

Sherlock's attention went elsewhere as he rubbed both thumbs against John's nipples. John let out an involuntary moan and Sherlock looked pretty damn pleased with himself. He bent his head down and licked it as if he was attempting to see if he liked the taste. He took it in between his teeth and bit down lightly. John's body bucked from the sensation and Sherlock's hand shot out to his stomach to keep him in place. He started sucking on it softly at first but then steadily harder.

John could feel his pants getting a bit too tight as Sherlock switched to the other side. His hands curled into fists and he tried to keep calm. He wanted to give Sherlock this, to let him explore, but it was incredibly difficult. Sherlock was making a sort of humming sound as he circled his tongue around John's nipple. John tried not to think of Sherlock's tongue doing that to other parts of his body.

He concentrated on his breathing as Sherlock unlatched from his nipple and turned his attention to John's trousers. He leaned in and sucked at John's neck, copying the motion John had done earlier. His hands were at John's crotch, undoing his pants until they fell to his ankles. Sherlock introduced his teeth, causing a whimper to escape from John's lips.

Sherlock was practically beaming with pride as he lifted his head to kiss John again. His eyes were hungry and quizzical, drinking John in as his tongue explored the inside of John's mouth. Sherlock's hand was on John's stomach and followed the hair from his bellybutton down, finally descending into John's shorts to grasp him. John moaned loudly, unable to stop himself. He was already hard and he throbbed in Sherlock's hand.

Sherlock moved his hand up from base to tip, then down to John's sack, squeezing it. John tried to concentrate on anything else but his mind was gone and all that was left was Sherlock. It took all the self-control he possessed not to tear Sherlock's clothes off.

Sherlock fingered the waistband of his shorts before tugging them down and freeing John's erection. The man sank to his knees in front of John and placed his hands on his hips. He licked along the underside of John's prick, which was red and swollen. John twitched in response and clenched his fists a bit tighter.

"I'm sorry Sherlock." John said, his voice husky. "I can't stand it any longer. I need to touch you."

"Very well John." Sherlock rose up in annoyance. "I now place myself in your expert hands. Thanks you for being so compliant."

"Just shut the fuck up." John growled and grabbed Sherlock's shirt, their lips smashing together. John pawed at Sherlock's clothes, frantically trying to remove them in haste. As John's fingers fumble with the shirt, Sherlock assisted by undoing his trousers. When Sherlock was naked as well, John ground his hips into him, their bodies rubbing against each other.

John decided to take it easy this time. He didn't want to overwhelm Sherlock and bending him over the desk in the corner and taking him roughly seemed like a bad idea. Instead John pushed him backwards, leading him to the bed. He pushed Sherlock down and he fell onto his back, bouncing the bed slightly. John stood over him and took a moment to admire his naked flatmate.

When he was done basking, he bent down kissed Sherlock's right hipbone, then the left, before moving down to his bullocks. He ran his tongue alone the bottom of them before taking the whole thing into his mouth and tugging a bit. A loud moan erupted from Sherlock and John pulled his mouth away in satisfaction.

His tongue flicked out and licked the tip of Sherlock's cock before taking the head into his mouth. He bobbed his head up and down, just working the head and heard Sherlock's breath catch. "John. More. I need more. Please." Sherlock begged, clutching the sheets.

John moved his head lower, keeping his lips tight around Sherlock's cock. He took him partway and then back out so just the tip was still in his mouth. He sucked at it hard, tasting precome in his mouth, and swirled it around with his tongue. Sherlock's hips bucked against him and John grabbed his hips to steady him.

He hallowed out his cheeks and took Sherlock in his mouth completely, moving his head up and down in long pulls. One hand left Sherlock's hips to cup his sack, pulling it down slightly. Sherlock shivered and writhed but John's hand kept him in place as best he could.

"John." Sherlock groaned, his hand flying down and twisting into John's short hair. "John, Oh God. John, I'm going to, I'm about to…." John's eyes flickered up, and watched Sherlock's eyes get wide as he felt the loss of control.

Sherlock didn't finish the sentence. He came hard and hot into John's mouth. John rode the orgasm out and then pulled back, Sherlock's cock falling from his mouth. He took it in one last time, sucking off any of the come he had missed. He stood up and wiped his lips and chin before heading for the bathroom.

"Where are you going?" Sherlock asked bolting upright.

"I'm going to take a very cold shower." John replied honestly, not seeing the point in modesty after what he'd just done.

Sherlock hopped off the bed and hurried over to John. "I was going to take care of that." He said, his eyes drifting downwards suggestively.

"It's fine." John insisted, taking Sherlock's hand and squeezing it reassuringly. He tried to go to the bathroom again but Sherlock held a tight grip on his hand and pulled him back.

"John, how inconsiderate do you think I am? After what you just did for me, you expect me to leave you to deal with yours on your own?"

"Sherlock, you don't owe me anything. Besides, neither of us have slept, I'm sure you're worn out and I don't want to put too much strain on you."

"I assure you my motivation is entirely selfish in origin." Sherlock said, reaching up and tracing John's lips with his thumb. "I've been waiting over a month for this."

"Yeah, well I've been waiting a year." John argued not feeling very sympathetic to Sherlock's plight.

"All the more reason."

He tugged on John's arm and pulled him back towards the bed. John surrendered and allowed himself be led back. John sat down on the bed and Sherlock disappeared for a moment and reemerged with a bottle in his hands. John took it from him and inspected it. "Lubricant? You actually bought lubricant?" he asked, crumbling into a fit of giggles at the absurdity of it. He had a hard time picturing Sherlock in the store buying lube. Something about it struck him as funny. "God, you had a very clear plan about what was going to happen on this trip, didn't you?"

"I was optimistic, yes." Sherlock nodded.

He climbed onto the bed, straddling John. Their lips found each others as Sherlock's hand rested on John's chest and gently pushed him down so he was lying on his back. Their mouths didn't part as Sherlock followed him down.

"So how did you want to do this?" John asked, his balls already tight, his whole body screaming for a release. He wouldn't last long.

"I think since you're the more experienced of the two of us, you should take the lead." Sherlock offered.

"Alright then." John said wrapping his arms around Sherlock and rolling them so John was on top. He needed to make this as quick and easy as possible. He felt somewhat bad for rushing their first time together but he figured it was understandable considering his lack of sleep.

John lowered his lips to Sherlock's ear and whispered gently, "Are you ready?"

"Yes." Sherlock answered quietly.

John sat up and grabbed the lube off the bed. He slicked up his fingers and then hitched Sherlock's legs onto his shoulders. He circled Sherlock's hole with his forefinger before slipping it in. "You have to relax." He said gently, He didn't move his finger, he just kept it in so Sherlock could adjust to the feel. Sherlock had winced from the pain so John didn't try attempting to find his prostate and make him moan.

"Are you ready for another?" John asked considerately.

Sherlock was biting his bottom lip and all he could do was nod. John very slowly inserted another finger, this time twisting it a bit to see how Sherlock would react. Sherlock responded by letting out a cry and arching his back.

"Good or bad?" John asked concerned.

"Good." Sherlock panted. "Very good."

The third finger sipped in fairly easily, Sherlock was opening up nicely. "I'm going to move them now."

He did a few small pulses, not wanting to overwhelm him. Sherlock seemed to have different ideas and he began grinding his hips down, pushing John's fingers further in. His arse was clinging to John's fingers, swallowing them until they almost disappeared entirely.

"Sherlock." John growled in irritation. "Are you going to let me lead or not?"

"My apologies John." Sherlock grinned in a way that said he wasn't really sorry at all.

John slipped his fingers out and shoved Sherlock's legs down off his shoulders. He crawled over and began attacking the man's mouth with his own. His hand trailed down Sherlock's stomach before wrapping his lube covered fingers around his prick. He began stroking upwards and Sherlock moaned into John's mouth. He was growing hard in John's hand and John was surprised he could get it up again already.

"John, please." Sherlock whined, thrusting into John's hand.

"Are you sure?" John whispered into Sherlock's ear, nipping at the lobe.

"Yes." Sherlock breathed.

"Say please again." John demanded, enjoying hearing it. It wasn't like Sherlock to have manners, of course they would only come out in the bedroom.

"Please." He repeated in desperation.

John sat up and grabbed the lube again, applying a decent amount to his cock. He put a pillow under Sherlock's lower back and spread his legs a bit. He gripped himself in his hand and eased himself into Sherlock so just the tip was in his hole, seeing how Sherlock's body would react. He moved in deeper and rolled his hips a few times. Growing once again impatient, Sherlock moved his body down until John's cock was completely in. He wrapped his arms around John and looked up at him innocently.

John gave up any illusion of being in control and decided just to shag Sherlock until he couldn't see straight. He pulled almost all the way out and then shoved himself back in with one quick thrust. "Oh God." Sherlock cried, his fingers digging into John's back. John did it again, garnering a similar response.

He began moving in a steadier pace now that he had punished Sherlock for his actions. His movements were slow and deliberate as Sherlock's body accepted him in. He kissed down Sherlock's chest, open mouthed so both lips and tongue were making contact. Sherlock's erection was trapped between them and John rubbed against it with each thrust, a steady flow of precome escaping out of it onto both of their stomachs.

John picked up the pace, thrusting into Sherlock without mercy. Sherlock bucked against him, clawing at John's back. "John. Oh God, John. I'm—"

A stream of come spurted from Sherlock's slit and his body shuddered. John circled his hips and rutted up against Sherlock's prostate again and again. He gripped Sherlock's hips, coming hard inside him, riding out the end of his orgasm as his vision went white. He bent his head, his whole body going limp, ready to collapse with exhaustion.

He pulled out and rolled off Sherlock, dropping onto the bed. He brushed the dampened hair off Sherlock's forehead and kissed his temple. Sherlock had a strange smile on his face, one John had never seen before. "What is it?" he asked, curious.

"I've never experience anything like that." Sherlock looked slightly dazed.

"So I take it that means it was satisfactory." John grinned, swelling with pride.

"Satisfactory?" Sherlock scoffed. "It was beyond anything I've ever… there's not even a word for how wonderful that was."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"You didn't say my name though." Sherlock said thinking back.

"Next time." John promised, wrapping his arms around Sherlock and pulling him close.