When Sherlock walked into his room he saw John sitting at the end of the bed in just his pants. Fully expecting this, given what had happened in the sitting room. Still was frozen for a second in shock. He had of course dreamt of similar situations as well but his own imagination had paled in comparison. Looking John over for a long moment before actually coming closer.
John had his eyes on Sherlock the whole time and when he stopped in his tracks John wondered if it was hesitation. The expression the other man wore was unquestionably of reverence rather than resistance. John swallowed before speaking.
"Sit." He said patting the bed beside him.
Sherlock obeyed and he felt his tongue graze against his bottom lip in anticipation. John moved in slowly, his strong calloused hand resting on Sherlock's cheek before he closed in for the kiss. Sherlock let him take the lead. Wanting to learn just how John Watson kissed, not wanting to influence it or change even one pattern of his tongue. That tongue that was so tentative and probing, taking it's time now to taste Sherlock's mouth.
The detective could not hold back the sound that echoed into the kiss. Excitement would be an understatement at this point. He was positively ready to explode, a bottle rocket being pressed pass it's pressure point. Velvety soft touches grazed the roof of his mouth and along his inner lip. Then the kiss was broken and again Sherlock made an embarrassing sound in protest.
"Much better when you taste all minty." Commented John, appraising the kiss.
Sherlock nodded in agreement unable to speak at the moment.
"So, planning on keeping these on then?" John asked, his fingers touching at the waist of Sherlock's trousers.
It was no secret that John was use to being in charge in the bedroom. Sherlock knew that without having to be in this exact position right now. Still John had never been with another man. Sherlock had. He wanted to prepare for that complication before they got to that point.
"You've never done this before." Sherlock said a bit dumbly.
"Right, I think we've covered that before." John laughed lightly.
Sherlock stood and started to take his trousers off, needing to think. Focused on the zipper just so he wasn't looking at John so he could clear his head a little.
"What I mean is, you may be use to taking the lead; with women. If you don't know what you're doing here I don't want you to stop because you're second guessing everything." Sherlock started to explain.
John just watched him with a quietly interested expression, wondering where this was going.
"I think that you should let me take the lead here, tonight. I don't mean to dominate you by any means but it would go more smoothly if I gave you a bit of guidance." Sherlock looked to John to see if he understood.
He did not.
"Sherlock, yeah I mean okay it's new for me but it's new for you too. Right?" He looked up, realizing suddenly why the other man might want to take the lead.
"Wrong." Sherlock answered unable to hide his smile while John looked on shocked.
John was dumbfounded. God, he really was an idiot. Everyone was apparently, they all thought Sherlock was a virgin but clearly he couldn't be.
"You mean you…when? I never see you go out on dates." John felt out of his depth.
Sherlock smirked. "I don't do dates John. Tedious. Sex was just another outlet for the vessel. I couldn't always ignore it, especially as a teenager. Hormones and all of that. When the need arises I take care of it efficiently and discreetly."
John felt a full body giggle come on as Sherlock explained away his secret sexual rendezvous in such a matter of fact tone. "Right, of course you've had sex. I'm sorry I didn't realize."
"No one does. When I'm hungry I don't get all moony eyed over a ham sandwich. Why would I do that over a 'quick shag' as you might put it? So people assume I've never indulged." Sherlock shrugged.
John had questions, many, many questions. Now wasn't the time for them however.
"Did you really just compare sex to a ham sandwich?" John felt a ridiculous grin spread across his face.
Shrugging Sherlock waited to see if John would agree that he should take the lead.
John laughed lightly, "Alright then. Lead the way."
Sherlock bent down to kiss John before tugging his own pants off and standing there nude. His hands pressing into John's chest to rest him back against the mattress. John was pliant and moved as he was guided by the hands of the man above him now.
"More kissing first, I think." Sherlock hummed as he straddled John's hips.
Using his arms to support his weight a bit as he dipped down to kiss the willing soldier in his bed. John still instinctively lead the kiss and Sherlock was fine with that bit. Admiring the way John's breath caught in his throat when Sherlock managed to catch on to how he liked it. Synchronizing his own movements of his mouth to compliment John's now. The kiss kept building, tongues delving deeper, tension coming nearly to a boil. Sherlock pulled away from John's lips with reluctance now, only because the kissing was no longer enough. He wanted more, every part of him needed it. One hand moving to tug at the waist of John's pants.
"Lift." His voice little more than a whisper as he tapped John's hip gently.
John lifted himself up a bit so Sherlock was able to tug the fabric down, resting it around mid-thigh. Sherlock inhaled sharply as he saw John's cock. He hadn't expected it to fit the man it was attached to so perfectly. Thick and straight up at attention, slightly over average in length with out being considered long. His long clever fingers traced along the length of the shaft. Slowly as if his finger tips might be able to measure it down to the exact centimeter if he were careful enough.
Looking up to meet John's eyes, pupils blown out wide and dilated. Unmistakably aroused, as if Sherlock needed further evidence as he let his fingers wrap around John's girth now. Stroking slowly, giving one firm tug upwards from the base all the way to the head. Appreciating the way John's hips tried to follow his hand.
"Oh, you really must have thought about this." Sherlock couldn't help himself.
Caught up in the moment, having more than a minor kink for dirty talk. He was very good at it after all, people tend to like things that their good at.
"Tell me John, have you thought about other things than my hand around you like this?" Giving another full stroke as he asked the question.
John let his head lull back on the pillow as a moan was evoked from him.
"Fucking hell." He hissed, even in his guiltiest of wanks it had never felt like this when he thought about it.
Sherlock continued, giving another full stroke his hand gripping a bit more tightly now.
"Have you thought about my mouth? I imagine you would have. Probably dreamed of shutting me up around your cock. But you like what I'm saying now…don't you?" Sherlock was enjoying this.
He had no right to sound that good, John thought to himself. It simply wasn't fair that he sounded that good. It was filthy and some how absolutely wrong that Sherlock would say these kinds of things. Still John did like what he was saying, he liked it far too much.
Sherlock was kissing down his neck now. Softly nipping and giving light licks to the spots he had tugged between his teeth. Trailing his mouth over John's throat and down his broad chest. His mouth moved to one nipple, letting the wet velvet of his tongue tease it. It was pink and small and not quite perfectly round, Sherlock savored the texture of it. Closing his lips around it and giving a slight suck, eliciting a hiss from John.
"Oh, have you left these neglected before John?" Sherlock asked switching to the other nippled. "That's a shame. Nipples really can be quite sensitive. As you can see." He explained between licks.
John was leaking pre-cum and Sherlock used it to slightly lubricate his shaft as he continued to stroke him. He never had paid attention to that part of his body at all and now he wondered how he had missed it for thirty some odd years.
Sherlock's mouth continued lower still, down John's stomach, past his naval. Lower, slowly inching his way lower as he measured John's breathing. Loving how it changed with each kiss, the reactions John gave was enough to get drunk on. At last his mouth was kissing at the base of John's cock. Warm wet lips parting and pressing along the side of the thick dick still gripped in his hand.
Gorgeous sounds poured from his John and they were the only encouragement he needed to continue. Licking up the length with a firm flick of his tongue. Moving his hand so he could trace around the tip. The curious slick muscle curled under the head and around the glans. The taste of sweat and flesh and pre-ejaculate was a lewd delicacy in Sherlock's mouth.
"Christ..Sherlock…Fuck that feels good." John finally managed to form words.
Sherlock parted his lips and met John's eyes as he wrapped them around the head. Taking in the first inch or so and ever so gently sucking. Holding John's hips down as if expecting him to keen towards his mouth.
John tried to do just that. This was too much, it felt incredible and he knew that this was only the beginning. Watching as Sherlock hollowed his cheeks as the pressure of his suction increased. A throaty reckless moan was pulled from John as if his vocal chords and his cock were directly connected.
John's body was no different than the Stradivarius Sherlock had practice and played for decades. Learning how to produce music from him would take time and effort but he knew when he was hitting the right notes. Right now he was certainly hitting the right notes.
Sinking further down, half of John's length hidden behind Cupid bow lips now. The warmth of Sherlock's mouth was encompassing and the cock inside of it twitched with delight. Licking and sucking, the friction of lips starting to glide up and down the first half of the shaft. John was coming apart as if he had never experienced a blow job before.
This was different though, taboo not only because it was a man but because of who the man was. Never in his dreams did John imagine that Sherlock's mouth could do this. Yet here he was, doing it as if he had perfected it like every other skill he decided to dedicate any time to.
Sherlock's mouth was suddenly gone from John's cock and the doctor gave a mournful moan.
"Why'd you stop?" He asked sounding as if the air were knocked from him.
Sherlock smiled, "Reach into the nightstand and grab the bottle of lubricant, please."
John turned to the nightstand and rummaged around with out much consideration for the rest of the contents of the drawer. Getting the lube and handing it quickly to Sherlock. The detective was practically reeling as he saw how eager John was for him.
Sherlock tugged John's pants off the rest of the way, leaving him naked. Opening the bottle and squirting a bit out on to his right hand. Coating his index and middle fingers as he moved his mouth to kiss the center slit on the head of the cock aching for attention.
"I'll need you to relax before I start. I don't plan on using more than a finger or two until your comfortable. If it becomes too much or painful tell me to stop and I will." Sherlock explained.
His mouth was now around the thick twitching dick that he had left wanting a moment before. Getting John to refocus and relax, waiting for his breath to hitch again before Sherlock probed a finger against his outer sphincter.
John was more than a little distracted by the pleasure of Sherlock's tongue trailing along the veiny underside of his cock. Still he felt the pressure as he was penetrated for the first time. It was maybe a little odd at first but not uncomfortable, no not by any means. Once the finger was inside of unexplored territory John exhaled and let himself relax.
Sherlock's long digit slipped slowly deeper into John. Curling once it was fully inside. Twisting slightly and feeling all around as he memorized new and intimate details about his blogger. Letting it slip in and out, carefully fucking the delicate finger into John.
The sensation of a mouth around his cock and a finger pushing inside of him was enough to make curse inwardly for denying himself this for so long. It felt fantastic, with all his hang ups about his sexuality he had never let himself even try this. That part of his life was over now, no more time for squashing down the parts of him that didn't belong hidden. Especially when being open to them meant that he could feel like this.
Sherlock used a bit more lubricant as the second finger wiggled it's way inside of John. Opening him up and knowing it would feel like a stretch with two digits inside of him now. John groaned and he tensed a little.
"Slow down..just keep still for a second." John breathing sounded a little labored.
Sherlock stilled his movements of his fingers but moved his mouth lower as much as he could take before gagging around John.
The pleasure over-rode the minor discomfort of being stretched and another provocative moan flowed free from his lips. Sherlock waited to move his fingers until John gave him a nod, taking it as permission.
Fingers pushing in deeper, all the way up until the last knuckle now. Sherlock withdrew them only part of the way before curling up and finding a spot he knew to be absolutely riddled with pleasure. Well aimed strokes against John's prostate earned the detective a chorus of gorgeously debauched sounds. He continued his ministrations as if composing a melody with the moans he evoked.
John writhed on the bed, fists clenching and digging into the sheets. Toes curling as his legs tensed. Sprawling them apart more widely as if trying to allow Sherlock more access, wanting to feel his fingers reach in deeper.
"How..how does that feel so fucking..ugh—God!" John tried to ask a question but another pointed stroke at his prostrate made him lose the words.
Sherlock was sucking harder at his cock now, greedily as if deriving pleasure from the act himself. He could do this for John, he could be selfless here in bed and still be selfish all at once. He loved every moment and his own cock was leaking a steady bit of fluid as proof of his excitement.
John was too close already, the sensations flooded his body and he couldn't keep grounded. His hips struggling to create more friction with Sherlock's mouth as the new sensation of fingers fucking him made him dizzy.
"I-I'm oh god, Sherlock! I'm…I'm f-Fuck I'm going to—-" He tried to warn the beautiful man swallowing his cock before he came.
Sherlock knew almost down to the instant when John would go over the edge just by how his muscles squeezed around his fingers. He swallowed down every drop that spilled into his mouth and his tongue gave tender touches to the now oversensitive glans.
John's face was flush, jaw slack and muscles limp as if turned into liquid. His chest rising and falling in heavy heaves as he caught his breath and came back into his body.
"That," he swallowed, "That was…not sure I have to words."
Sherlock released his mouth from around John with an purposefully obscene 'pop'.
"It was enjoyable then?" Sherlock wore a Cheshire grin knowing full well that John had enjoyed it.
He was still hard, but he didn't have condoms and he doubted John would be amiable to unprotected sex until they had been tested. Besides, this was him being selfless, tonight was about John. That was more than enough for Sherlock, for tonight at least. He still needed release though.
Climbing back on the bed and straddling John's hips again. Taking John's hand and wrapping it around his own longer yet comparably thin cock.
"Just like this, I won't need much right now." Sherlock whispered.
John let his hand grip around and then glide up and down the length of Sherlock's shaft. Feeling how it was already responding to his touch, pulsing against his palm.
"Yes, that's it. More of that." Sherlock groaned.
The doctor obliged, stroking just as Sherlock liked, full from the base to the tip and then back down again. Getting comfortable with the feeling of the flesh his fingers coiled around. This was all so new but new clearly could be a good thing.
"A bit faster…tighter too." Sherlock instructed. "Like that, yes…just like…"
His hips keened with John's fist, eyes never leaving the man who was naked under him. Thinking his own sounds were a bit strangled and harsh, nothing like the music John had made.
A gruff grunt left him and his balls tightened as he felt the undeniable rush of orgasm washing over him.
"John, yes…yes John that's it, that's perfect." He cried out as he came.
Pearly strands of ejaculate landed on the doctor's chest. Creating a deviant version of a Jackson Pollock on John's skin. Sherlock wanted to collapse but instead he rolled to the side and then let his muscles release. Reaching for a tissue from the box on the nightstand to clean them both up a bit. Not putting real effort into it but he didn't want John to protest about being sticky and leave the bed.
John had no intentions on moving any time in the near future. His legs were jelly and his body was riding out the natural high of post-orgasmic bliss.
There was no turning back now, at least John hoped not. One look at Sherlock chased away any worries of this being a solitary experience for them. The detective pulled John close for a lazy kiss, just wanting the intimacy of it. John laughed against the kiss lightly.
"Not going to kick me out of bed? My old room feels like a long walk from here right now." John asked already knowing the answer.
"Wouldn't dream of it." Sherlock hummed groggily. "Now shut up and get some rest, I'm going to the grocery when I wake up."
"Why are you going to the grocery?" John was confused as he got comfortable next to Sherlock now.
Sherlock rolled his eyes as if the answer were obvious. "Condoms."
Only giving John the one word before he pulled the blanket up over them and closed his own eyes. John followed suit, satiated and sleepy.