John pressed kisses along Sherlock's jaw, nuzzling into his ear. His breath was warm against his skin, and Sherlock panted at the sensation. John's hands were lazily stroking up and down Sherlock's back, light caresses, like he had all the time in the world.
Whining softly, Sherlock shifted so his legs were between John's, their hips pressed together. It was amazing to feel John's hardness against his own, even through all the fabric, and he rotated his hips to grind a little. He was breathing fast, and he felt flushed. Too warm, although he'd already taken off his suit jacket.
By contrast, John was breathing more normal, looking slightly aroused but nowhere as desperate as Sherlock was. He seemed to have no desire to go beyond this wonderful make-out session, kissing and touching lightly, clothes staying on.
Lying on top of John, Sherlock had felt a sense of victory at being able to tuck between John's legs. To feel John's erection pressing against his stomach had sent a spiral of lust, pure wanting, through him. He wanted so badly to unzip John's jeans and push aside his pants. Stroke and explore his cock, watch John in his pleasure, watch him come apart under Sherlock's touch.
But so far, John hadn't even let Sherlock undo a button of his shirt, or tug his shirt up to touch the bare skin of his back.
After the dinner, they had continued to hold hands as they walked back to the flat, Sherlock feeling a bit giddy from just doing that. When John had kissed him and drawn him down onto the sofa, he had eagerly followed him.
John was extremely good at kissing, and that alone for the past twenty minutes was getting Sherlock extremely hot and bothered. He needed more, more, more.
"You have learned your lessons well, Sherlock. You are a much better kisser than you used to be." John said, with a satisfying roughness to his voice.
Sherlock smiled at the compliment. He had gotten better at varying things up, noticing when John did something different and copying it, adding it to his repertoire. He noticed what he liked himself, and catalogued what John responded to, seeing how different they were. Sherlock was very sensitive around his ears, and having John suck and bite his earlobe was almost orgasmic. John had a place lower on his neck that seemed his preferred spot, arching against Sherlock's lips for more. It was incredible seeing his dom enjoying his caresses so much. So hot.
He enjoyed the contact and attention, but his baseline hum of arousal had been simmering at a higher level since they held hands at dinner, only to be now at maximum levels for quite a while. His cock was throbbing, and pressing it against John's was doing nothing to ease the ache.
"John, please, please...," he broke off a kiss to beg softly, giving John beseeching eyes.
Smiling slowly, John pushed Sherlock's hair back. "What do you want?"
Burying his face against John's neck, he planted a few kisses there. "More, can we please do more?"
"Mmmmm...but I like this. After such a heavy meal, isn't it nice to just make-out? You smell so good, and I like feeling your weight on top of me." John said, hugging Sherlock tightly, stroking his back.
Sherlock looked down at John and sighed. He could see there was no changing his mind. Shifting down a little, he made sure his cock wasn't pressing against John anymore and tried to just relax and enjoy being in John's arms.
After a few minutes, the surge of desire had faded back down a bit. He drifted along, feeling John's hands on his back, his warmth, his scent. The thump of his heart, steady and sure under his ear. Daringly, he lifted a hand to John's hair, running his fingers through the short, silky strands like John so often did for him. He was rewarded with a pleased purr, and John leaning into his touch.
He didn't sink into subspace, his senses too full of John to lose a second of it.
XXX
The next few days were like that, Sherlock cuddling against John as much as possible, but rarely getting more than a few kisses. He was finding it hard to concentrate, fantasies of doing more with John running in a loop in his head.
His phone beeped, and he looked at the text, and then put his phone back on the coffee table.
John chuckled. "Who is texting you?"
Sherlock shrugged. "Just Lestrade. Double murder." He sunk against John's side, kissing his neck.
Sitting up, John gave a disbelieving laugh. "What are you doing here then? Go!"
Shaking his head, Sherlock tried to pull John back against him. "No, they'll be fine without me. Come back."
He whined slightly when instead John jumped off the sofa, staring down at his flatmate. "You are going, and that's that." His eyes were flashing, and Sherlock felt a stir of admiration at John like that.
Sighing, Sherlock got up. "Fine. I'll make an appearance there. But I'll be back soon, so don't make other plans. I want to continue where we left off as soon as possible."
John walked over to the door and pulled his coat on. "I'm going with you. Let's go."
Shocked, Sherlock scrambled into his big ass coat, pulling the collar up and racing down the stairs. Here was a chance to impress John, show him another side of Sherlock, show-off a little. His heart thumped in excitement.
They hopped into a taxi and got to the scene quickly. It was behind a run-down warehouse, with no people around in the drizzling weather except police officers, their faces illuminated by the flashing red and blue lights from their vehicles.
Sherlock went to the yellow crime scene tape, and the officer let them both in. He lead them to a slim man with salt and pepper hair, holding a black umbrella.
"Lestrade, this is a colleague, Dr. John Watson. He's with me." Sherlock said, nodding towards John.
Intelligent brown eyes scanned over John quickly, and the man gave a quick nod. He ran over the case quickly and then Sherlock was off, exploring the scene, not seeming to mind the weather. Completely focussed.
Lestrade chuckled, watching Sherlock, and glanced over at John. "Have you known him long?"
John lifted the collar of his coat, regretting not bringing an umbrella as cold rain dribbled down his neck. "Not that long, but we know each other pretty well."
Lifting his eyebrows in surprise, Lestrade gave John a closer look. "Is that so? Few claim that of Sherlock, in my experience. I've known the bloke five years, and I wouldn't say I know him that well."
Looking back at the mad berk crouching down near the corpses, John shook his head. Sherlock was an unusual man, and it seemed that many didn't appreciate him the way they should.
"Look, you are getting soaked. Come stand under here while you wait." Lestrade invited, lifting the umbrella a little.
John grinned at him. "Ta, that's much better." He had to step pretty close to avoid the rain dropping off the edge of the umbrella.
"Are you a medical doctor then?" Lestrade asked, his dark eyes assessing.
Nodding, John looked closer at the taller man. He was quite attractive, likely about five years older than John. "Yes. I was an army doctor for years, but I work in a clinic here now. Have you been with the Yard long?"
"Yes, living the dream." Lestrade smirked, glancing around them. "Dead bodies, getting soaked in the rain, and then hours of paperwork."
"Why do you message Sherlock on cases?" John was trying to understand how they came to work together.
Shrugging, Lestrade watched as Sherlock growled at one of the police officer who was in his way. "Well, it's not for his delightful personality! His insight into the cases is worth the trouble he stirs up."
The man in question was suddenly standing in front of them, scowling at how close Lestrade was to his flatmate. "John, would you take a look at the woman?"
"Um, sure...," he glanced at Lestrade, and didn't sense any objection from him.
Following Sherlock, he squatted near the woman, and looked closely when Sherlock lifted her limp arm with his latex gloved hand. "What do you think of those marks?"
John took out his phone and put on the flashlight for a brighter view. He looked over her skin, and peered closer at her nails. "Raindrop pigmentation and Mees' lines, but signs like this take years to show." He had seen similar symptoms in Afghanistan, in some locals.
Nodding, Sherlock stood up, and John followed him. "Come on, then." His tone was a bit sharp, and he wasn't meeting John's eyes.
Curious, John walked with him back to Lestrade.
"Married couple. He was slowly poisoning her with arsenic, likely convincing her that the symptoms were just normal aging. I think a close friend or family member confronted him with the truth, and it turned bloody." Sherlock rattled off. "I'm thinking a protective brother or young uncle, perhaps."
Lestrade was making notes on his mobile. "Arsenic? Really?"
Sherlock turned towards John, waving encouragingly.
"Um, yes..." John cleared his throat. "Chronic exposure to arsenic show in a spotty skin pigmentation, and white stripes across the nails. Many poorer countries have arsenic contaminating the groundwater, and locals are affected. In the U.K., it must have been added to her food or beverages for several years."
"Hence her husband. Who else would have had motive and means?" Sherlock drawled, glancing John's way.
Lestrade seemed impressed. "Motive?"
"She comes from money. He married her for it, and decided to poison her slowly to get access to it." Sherlock said, sighing like it was obvious.
John shared a smirk with Lestrade, which Sherlock caught, scowling again.
"We'll get toxicology reports on them both and search their residence for the source of the poison." Lestrade nodded at them both. "Thank you, Sherlock. And you as well, Dr. Watson."
"John. Call me John." He smiled at the investigator, sensing he was a kindred spirit from their short time together.
The older man held out his hand, and John shook it. "Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade. Say, would you two like to grab a coffee around the corner? Dry out a bit?"
Sherlock huffed, grabbing John by the arm and dragging him away. "No. You've taken up enough of our night as it is. Goodnight, Lestrade."
John glared at Sherlock when they flagged down a taxi a block away, and climbed into the back. "That was unnecessarily rude, Sherlock."
The tall git was unapologetic, just shrugging and staring moodily out of the window. It was darker out now, and the streetlights highlighted the moisture on his skin and his curls. He seemed unaware of it.
John shook his head, putting what he learned about Sherlock tonight together with what he already knew. He had a deeper appreciation for his intelligence, noticing the woman's symptoms even though it wasn't the cause of death. The police officers likely saw a wealthy couple stabbed in an unsavory part of town, and that was it.
It was interesting seeing how Sherlock interacted with people he worked with, as well. Although he seemed to respect Lestrade to some extent, he didn't seem to have any regard for the other officers.
XXX
Back at the flat, Sherlock was still moody, towelling off and sprawling on the sofa. John chuckled to himself as he passed him a big mug of tea. "Drink this. It will warm you up."
Sherlock sent him a sidelong glance, and drank the beverage fast, setting the mug down with a thunk. It was like being around an emo teen, and John had had enough of it.
He set down his own mug. "Sherlock, do you remember the day you first kissed me, and insisted you could meet my needs? We set down rules that day. Do you recall them?"
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "The first rule of Fight Club is you don't talk about Fight Club."
John let out a surprised laugh. "Um...how do you know that line? I didn't think you watched movies."
Sherlock shrugged. "I went undercover into a Fight Club for a while, for a case."
The images that brought up had John just shaking his head. A topic to explore more another time.
"Do you remember our rules or not? Do you need me to say them?"
Green eyes met and held John's. "No cumming without your permission. Obeying you without hesitation. Safe wording."
John sat up taller, looking down at his sub, feeling satisfied when Sherlock naturally shifted on the sofa in response to it. He drew his limbs in, sitting straighter. "You forgot a couple; that we will take things slowly, and you won't try to rush things."
"Did you forget my condition also? That we are exclusive? It didn't appear that we were tonight. Every time I looked at you, you were practically cuddled against Lestrade, hanging off his every word. I bet you wanted to go to the cafe with him, didn't you?" Sherlock snapped.
Hmmmm...jealous much? John chuckled to himself at Sherlock's reaction. He hadn't even been flirting with Lestrade, just friendly.
"And how did it make you feel, seeing me like that, apparently bending our rules?" John purred, shifting a little closer.
Sherlock pouted, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. "I didn't like it."
Now pressed against Sherlock's side, John took one of his hands, playing with his long fingers. "And I don't like it when you try to bend my rules either. You have been pushing things, trying to rush."
Sherlock huffed impatiently. "So, you are going to start dating other people if I don't follow your rules?"
Reaching out, John cupped the side of Sherlock's face, looking down at him. "Perhaps it's time to check in here. It's been a few weeks now. Do you want to continue this with me? Are you happy?"
"How can you even ask that?" Sherlock shook his head. "I want you constantly. I'm sexually frustrated, but can't imagine going back to just being flatmates."
John nodded. "I can't imagine that either. I want you so much too."
Giving a needy whine, Sherlock was no longer moody and distant. He pressed against John. "Then can we please, please, please just have sex? Why are we waiting so long?"
Running his fingers through his wet curls, John made sure there was a bit of a tug in his caress. Heat bloomed in Sherlock's eyes at the sensation and John couldn't resist clenching his fist into that thick hair and lowering his face to his sub's for a hard, greedy kiss. Nothing held back.
By the time he pulled back, Sherlock's eyes were darker with arousal and he was breathing quickly. "We are taking things slow because we are taking you from being 'AlmostAVirgin' to being a perfect sub for me. You have a lot to learn, Sherlock, about sex and relationships, and you are doing so well so far. I am proud of you."
The praise made Sherlock glow, and lean into John. "I'm ready for more, John. I want you so much. Your pace is too slow. Please." He planted small kisses against John's neck.
John shook his head. "You aren't ready yet, Sherlock. What if I gave you an order right now, told you to run up to my room, strip, and get yourself ready? Ready for me to come up those stairs, and fuck you into the mattress all night? Use you as my perfect little fuck toy?"
The words caused a strong reaction in Sherlock. A surge of heat, but followed by a flash of uncertainty, and some fear. And Sherlock pulling in, pulling back a little.
John released his hold on Sherlock's hair, and gathered his sub into his arms. "You are wonderful, Sherlock, but you have to trust me here. I'm more experienced in sex than you are, and I can tell what you are ready for. I wouldn't order something like that from you until I know it was something you wanted too. Desperately."
The cuddling and stroking along his back was relaxing Sherlock. He looked at John, most of the fear gone from his expression. "Will I ever get there, John? Will I ever fully satisfy you? You must find it incredibly dull, dabbling in simple kisses and touches when you are used to sexually experienced partners."
John kissed him, soft and slowly, stroking his back. "I find every minute with you fascinating, Sherlock. You are being so brave and trusting, and I love seeing you learning about your sexuality. It's so hot, believe me. It's why we are taking it slow, letting you learn all these fundamental parts. How to kiss, how to touch. Finding out what you like, as well as what I like."
"I know I like you, John, a lot." Sherlock said softly, his green eyes showing his vulnerability. He had been through a lot of emotions tonight, and John hugged him hard.
"I like you a lot too, Sherlock." John said into his neck. It was still amazing that they had found each other, from such a strange beginning. "So, do you agree to continuing as we have been? Except you stop trying to rush me?"
Sherlock let out a dramatic huff. "Oh, I suppose so. You can keep me your desperate sub, ready for you to toy with whenever you have a whim to. As long as you promise to stop flirting with Lestrade."
"Deal." John kissed Sherlock lightly to seal it. He stretched, feeling a little sleepy. He looked down at his sub. "What would you say to sleeping in the same bed tonight?"
With wide eyes, Sherlock looked up at him. "Together? Just sleeping?"
Nodding, John leaned in to kiss Sherlock lightly. "Maybe some cuddling and slow kisses. Clothes staying on." He just wanted to hold Sherlock close all night.
And his brave sub nodded, looking excited and a little nervous. It was the perfect next step for them. Taking it little by little.
XXX
-Disclaimer: I own nothing.