Chapter warnings: as I promised at the beginning, this chapter contains detailed descriptions of consensual male/male sex.
"And I stand outside the courtroom today where Victor Trevor, board of director for Pfizer pharmaceuticals, has pleaded guilty to nineteen counts of child rape-"
John shut off the television, looking down at his partner asleep in his lap. The last few weeks had been a rollercoaster, and somehow Sherlock had been the sanest. The first day was heart breaking for John, watching the consulting detective stare into nothingness and try work through his mind palace to put everything back in order. However, after that, Sherlock got steadily better, back to ordering the doctor around in no time, and testing his patience with crazy experiments.
John did not understand that day why Sherlock needed to go into the interrogation room, but now he did. Sherlock needed to reclaim the control from Victor. This whole time, his partner had been struggling because he felt like his abuser still had the upper hand somehow. The detective had not had an intense nightmare in over two weeks.
The craziest experience had to be when Donavan stopped around the flat. Sherlock did not know she had been in the room that day, and was extremely confused when the usually antagonistic sergeant brought a peace offering of flowers and chocolate to the flat. It had elicited the first genuine laugh out of the detective when John had patiently explained she was not trying to ask him on a date, but say sorry.
And the weirdest experience was when Mycroft came around for the first time since John had called him that fateful night. The doctor came in from work to see the two brothers sitting opposite each other, Sherlock in his own chair and Mycroft perched on the soldiers, silently playing chess for hours. Mycroft looked much thinner than the last time he saw him, but John guessed he mustn't have looked his best either. Surprisingly though, Sherlock did not make one remark about this. From what John could gather, neither man had actually spoken aloud the whole visit, just periodically looked at each other intently as they made a move. To John, it seriously looked like they were reading each other's minds. The soldier tried not to pry and keep in the kitchen or other side of the living room to let them work out their differences, but stayed close enough so if any fight broke out he could be there straight away and mediate. However, his worry was unwarranted. After two hours he watched Sherlock win the third game and Mycroft stood up to leave. Any tension in the room had disappeared, and the brother's nodded to each other with a slight smile. However, when Mycroft moved to gather his briefcase and umbrella, he was halted when his younger brother vaulted towards him and burrowed himself into the politician's chest. If John weren't seated at the time, he would have probably dropped to the ground in shock. Mycroft looked equally startled, but automatically wrapped his arms around his little brother. The hug didn't last long, and Sherlock went back to his chair as if nothing peculiar had happened. Mycroft turned to pick up his belongings and said goodbye to John. Then with more emotion than John thought the politician was capable of, he said: "same time next week, brother mine?" Sherlock gave a quick nod and then resumed staring at the ceiling. To his word, Mycroft came around each week. They rarely talked but John felt the two brothers were the closest they had ever been since they were children.
John and Sherlock had become infinitely closer too. Sherlock was finally able to let down all of his subconscious barriers, and John had been able to relax in the knowledge his partner was going to be truly ok. They had breached the conversation of intimacy, and everything in that department was going smoothly. Their first time was a little shaky, as was expected, but their ability to giggle and comfort one another through it made it a first time for them both to remember fondly. Additionally, following their public displays of affection in The Yard, their relationship was out. Mrs Hudson couldn't be happier that "my two boys have finally given into love, but that doesn't mean I want to be woken at all hours with your antics. I know it's the honeymoon period darlings, but my heart is much too old for that".
Carefully, John picked up his partner in a bridal style hold, and took them through to their bedroom. When he placed Sherlock down on the bed, Sherlock stirred awake.
"Go back to sleep, honey." John soothed, pulling on his sleep clothes and taking off his partner's dressing gown so he would be more comfortable.
Instead, Sherlock turned to face John when he climbed into bed, looking like he was building up the courage to say something. John waited patiently.
"What is love, John? I mean… I know the physiological reactions to attraction and lust, and the so-called indicators of love. But how do you know what you feel for me is truly love?" Sherlock finally asked.
"That's a big question." John mused, collecting his thoughts to give his partner a sufficient response. "I guess I just 'know'. I haven't felt like this with anyone before. I care for your happiness over my own. When you smile, and especially when I've put it there myself, I get butterflies in my stomach. I would die for you, and I have killed for you. They say love hurts, and yes, in some ways it does, as nothing hurts as much when I see you upset. But I also disagree with that statement, because it feels like the easiest and most natural thing in the world to love you. You changed my life the day I limped into this house. I was instantly a better person for just knowing you. I love your crazy mind, your intolerable mood swings, but mostly, I cannot see my life without you."
Sherlock stayed frozen, staring into the older man's warm, kind eyes.
"What that a sufficient answer?" John asked, smiling.
"I love you too, John," Sherlock said softly, blushing slightly but keeping his eyes fixed on his partners. John searched the detective's eyes for hesitance, and found only love and trust shining back. Unable to hold back, John slipped his arm on the slight man's back, pulling him into a passionate kiss. Things got heated quickly, emotions running higher than ever. Honeymoon period indeed.
If possible, Sherlock deepened the kiss, pushing his hips without hesitance into his partners growing arousal. John gasped as the friction, groaning as the pleasure overcame him.
"Make love to me." Sherlock whispered, capturing eye contact to convey his honesty, need and trust before things got too heated.
"Are you sure?" John checked, understanding straight away what his partner was asking. In their extensive discussions, the doctor had assured Sherlock he did not need that from their relationship, and he was happy to always be on the receiving end when they made love that way. However, after experiencing it himself for the first time, he wanted nothing other than to take care of his lover in that way too. It was an overwhelming experience, and better than the soldier had ever imagined. However, he knew it was unlikely Sherlock would like to engage in that aspect of sex, and John did not feel like he was missing out in any way. Having Sherlock sleep beside him each night was more than John had even dreamed to have.
"I think you're more nervous than me, John." Sherlock joked. "You know you can trust me to ask you to stop if I should need to. But I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't completely ready for this. I've waited thirty-two years for you, I think I'm more than ready."
Before John could overthink, Sherlock pulled his partner back so every part of their bodies were touching, and brought him in for a toe tingling kiss. The detective snaked his hand down from John's shoulder, caressing the skin as he made his way down to cup the growing arousal in the front of John's pyjama pants.
Groaning, John moved positions, placing his knees either side of the pale man's body and hovering above him ensuring no parts of them were touching. "This is about you." John breathed.
Sherlock dropped his hands onto the bed, holding his partner's knees either side his body as John leant down to kiss his neck. Slowly, John made his way down his partner's body, nipping lightly at the pronounced collarbone. Enjoying the noises he was eliciting from the detective, John moved backwards to sit lightly on Sherlock's thighs, pulling his partner's loose t-shirt off as he moved. Before Sherlock dropped his hands back onto John's legs, he tugged expectantly at the soldier's own t-shirt, smiling when the item was quickly removed. Now free to explore more, John tickled his fingers down Sherlock's bare chest, skimming his hardened nipples. The detective twitched beneath him, once again leaning back his head and closing his eyes to enjoy the sensations. Surprising his partner, John leant down and licked a circle around the areola, pulling back to blow cold air onto the trail of wet skin. Sherlock groaned, and John finally brought the hardened nub between his lips, grazing the sensitive skin teasingly with his teeth. His hand had moved to the other nipple, rolling the skin with just enough pressure between his thumb and forefinger. The detective moaned once again, his hips rolling up looking for friction.
John took his time moving down the pale, lean chest, making sure no piece of skin was left unexplored. Just as Sherlock was becoming impatient, John hooked his index fingers under the pyjama bottoms either side his waist. As he pulled down the loose fitted, silk trousers, John lightly nipped at the sensitive skin inside his lover's thighs. As the silk glided over Sherlock's impressive arousal, he let out the deepest moan yet. The sound of his partner's encouragement sent a jolt to John's increasingly hard cock, increasingly excited by Sherlock's pleasure.
"Please." Sherlock breathed, looking at John with only trust and arousal.
John slipped off the bed quickly to take off his remaining pants, and Sherlock reached into the bedside table for lube and condoms. As they were both clean, they had foregone protection the other way around, yet they had already discussed if this were to ever happen, using protection would hopefully avoid any harmful triggers for Sherlock when it came to cleaning up. John was therefore unsurprised to see the new additions to the drawer, but happy in the knowledge his partner had thoroughly thought this through enough to buy them. Relaxing slightly, John crawled back up the bed, kissing up Sherlock's leg as he moved. When he reached the top of the detective's pale thigh, he stilled and looked up to his partner for confirmation.
"John, please." Sherlock pleaded, completely overcome with pleasure, but needing so much more.
"You tell me straight away if you want to stop, ok love?" John instructed. After receiving a steady nod, John reached for the bottle of lubricant.
Not yet opening the bottle, the doctor leant forwards to lightly trace his tongue over his partner's testicle. Bringing it gently into his mouth, John lightly sucked the skin and Sherlock's cock bounced as he moaned loudly, trying to refrain from thrusting his hips up in search for much needed friction.
"John." Sherlock groaned, pleading for John to finally take him into his mouth.
"Good things come to those who wait, Sherlock." John teased, switching his attention to the testicle. Once John felt that Sherlock was completely falling apart and relaxed, he flicked open the cap of the bottle and coated two fingers.
"I'm going to suck you as I prepare you, is that ok?" John asked, proud of how composed he managed to sound under the circumstances.
"Oh god, yes please." Sherlock moaned, looking down at his partner lovingly, eyes blown impossibly wide.
John moved back down, bringing a cushion with him to place under his partner's hips. Happy with the position, John finally dragged his tongue up the underside of Sherlock's cock, groaning in return when his partner twitched and moaned. Swirling his tongue around the tip, John match the movement with his index finger on the detectives puckered entrance. Sherlock stilled, taking in a deep breath to steady himself. Just as John was about to pull back, his partner let out a low groan and relaxed, resuming eye contact. It was as if Sherlock had to battle with his own mind to let himself enjoy the sensations. Picking up the ministrations on Sherlock's impressive length, John kept eye contact as he slowly slid his index finger into his partner. After two gentle pumps, he located the prostate quickly with a doctor's precision, making the act about pleasure as soon as possible.
Sherlock writhed below him, soon asking for more, any hesitation long gone. There was no nervousness from Sherlock as the doctor worked him open, He knew exactly how to keep him on the brink of pleasure, ensuring no pain or discomfort was felt at the intrusion.
"John, please." Sherlock pleaded once again.
John slipped out his fingers from Sherlock to prepare himself, but once again felt a disabling jolt of nervousness. He must have paused long enough for Sherlock to realise there was a problem, and the younger man looped his arms around the doctor's neck and pulled him in for a passionate kiss. Sherlock loosened his hold around John's neck, and reached out his left hand to find the condom. His hands were steady as he rolled the latex down his partner's shaft.
"I love you, John." Sherlock whispered, his voice full of emotion, gazing intently into his partner's eyes with only trust.
"I love you so, so much." John choked. The irony of John being the one having to be comforted did not escape either men, but it only confirmed Sherlock's trust that John could never hurt him and this was going to be ok.
"So show me. Please, John. I need you." Sherlock asked softly, gliding his fingers down the older man's back.
John leant down once more to capture Sherlock's lips. His left hand thread through the younger man's raven curls, moving to support his head and pull him impossibly closer in the kiss. With his other hand, John coated his covered erection with more than enough lube and brought himself back to full arousal after the few minutes of hesitance. He had never wanted somebody so much, and the pure want in Sherlock's eyes gave John the courage to line himself up with the younger man.
Sherlock made the first move, pushing his hips up slightly so the tip of John's cock pressed gently into him. Both Sherlock and John gasped at the intrusion, and after only a short time the detective was pleading for more. They kept eye contact the whole time as John slowly and gently thrust completely into his partner. Only when John bottomed out did either man breathe again. He watched Sherlock's face intently as he got used to the feeling, looking for any signs of discomfort or panic. However, in that moment, there were no thoughts of Victor, no thoughts of anything, other than John. It must have been only a minute later that Sherlock asked John to move, though it had felt like a lifetime for both of them. John loosened his grip on his partner's curls, and placed his other hand next to Sherlock's shoulder to support his weight as he leaned further over him to get a better angle and push in slightly further. Sherlock groaned with pleasure, and John relaxed again, finally allowing himself to feel his own pleasure after knowing his partner was truly comfortable.
Keeping eye contact the whole time, John began to find a gentle, but passionate, rhythm. Words of love and enjoyment fell from their lips, and fingers teasingly glided over whatever body part's of the other they could reach. After a particularly strong thrust, Sherlock arched his back and gasped as John brushed his prostate.
"Oh God, John. There, there, there." Sherlock moaned, becoming increasingly close to release.
Not far off himself, John repositioned to ensure Sherlock's prostate was hit with each thrust. He then brought his hand from his partner's hair to wrap around his leaking cock between them, matching the measured pulls with their thrusts. Teasing hands turned into tight holds, almost as if they were trying to become one person. The noises made by each men picked up, and Sherlock's eyes started to droop with pleasure.
"Come for me, honey." John panted, tightening his hold on Sherlock's cock and pushing his partner over the brink of pleasure.
As Sherlock came, he cried John's name, tightening almost impossibly around the doctor. After just two more thrusts, John followed his partner into complete bliss. Sherlock had closed his eyes, smiling fondly as he steadied his breathing. John was thankfully aware enough to carefully ease out of Sherlock, grab a few tissues to wipe up Sherlock's stomach, tie the condom and drop them at the side of the bed before collapsing down next to Sherlock and pulling the younger man onto his chest. Sherlock wrapped his arms loosely around his partner, and both men basked in the silence as their heart rates returned to normal. John felt tears prick his eyes at how perfect the moment was, and he didn't mention anything when he felt a drop of water fall onto his chest from Sherlock. John couldn't put into words how much he loved this man. His heart may be calming, but it was expanding with love for the detective resting on his chest.
Soon Sherlock shifted so his head was resting on John's shoulder so they could see each other. John was about to speak, but Sherlock brought their lips together for a lazy kiss instead. The two men remained wrapped up with each other, becoming tired as they basked in their post-coital bliss.
"I love you." Sherlock whispered, not wanting to break the perfect moment.
"To the moon and back." John replied softly, joining his partner in a deep, relaxed sleep.
I really hope you guys enjoyed this story, I definitely enjoyed writing it! I just want to say thank you to everyone who gave favourited/comment etc. throughout this story. You had the nicest things to say and any help was greatly appreciated. Seriously, thank you so so much!
Some people have asked for an epilogue. This is definitely something I want to do, but can I get some ideas? What do you guys want to see?