No idea where this came from, another sexy chapter for you lovely people, enjoy! ~K
"John for God's sake, go over there and talk to her!"
"Sherlock we agreed, I am not going to flirt with a perfect stranger just to help you with the case!"
The detective pouted angrily. "I need this alibi John; you know it's all that the suspect needs to be released. Do it for me, please?" He pressed a gentle kiss to his partner's lips. The doctor sighed reluctantly, weaving his fingers into the other man's hair and pulling him down to whisper in his ear.
"Fine, promise you won't get jealous?" He teased, nudging Sherlock lightly. The detective frowned.
"Pfft, please. Me? Get jealous? I know nothing of this feeling you speak of!" He grinned, putting on a mock indignant tone which was not entirely false. Satisfied, John smiled back at him and kissed him sweetly once more. "Hmm, very nice now go!" Sherlock pushed him in the direction of the voluptuous blonde perched on the bar stool.
John approached her nervously, his palms were sweating and his breath was coming short and ragged. This was like his school years all over again. He remembered it well; the desperate hope and fear as he was about to attempt to ask a girl out, he hadn't felt it in years. Sure, when it was Sherlock he was scared and anxious, but he knew deep down that it would work out, it was just right. This, generating a spark out of nowhere with someone he wasn't even attracted to, this was so unnatural and awkward.
He hazarded a glance back towards the shadows of the bar where his lover lurked in the murky half-light cast by the neon sign outside. Just one look, then John would be OK. He could do this if he knew that Sherlock was waiting for him out of his line of vision, where John could run back to him and kiss him and hold him like he wanted. He was aware that there was a time when he would have been lusting over women like this ditsy blonde before him. Now his entire scope of desire was narrowed down to sharp high cheekbones and curling dark hair, narrow hips and plump beautiful bowed lips...
He was getting distracted.
John cleared his throat, "Hi, I'm John" he began. Great start, now, where to go from there...
Sherlock watched as his partner made his way to the bar, trying not to make it obvious that he was admiring his arse as he went. John really did have an infuriating habit of swinging his hips like that which made Sherlock lose control of his senses and want to jump him then and there. The detective dug his fingernails into the flesh of his hands, exercising restraint. He was both relieved and disappointed when John took his seat and his spectacular view was obscured.
Then he saw it, so slight at first, so meaningless and petty, but there all the same. The woman was reacting accordingly to John's advances, touching his arm occasionally, laughing at his rubbish jokes. And they were rubbish, Sherlock knew they were rubbish, but it was one of those things he loved about John anyway. She was even, oh god no, she was even biting her lip? Now that was just weird on anyone besides John. Regardless, she was doing all the right things to show her attraction. But John, his John, did something Sherlock had never expected. He watched, mortified, as his lover placed his hand on this bimbo's thigh. Not only that, but he began to stroke gentle circles on her bare skin.
Sherlock gasped inadvertently, staggering against the wall. This was something he hadn't planned for; the raw, animal instinct that was overcoming him. His feelings were so intensely possessive that he had to close his eyes for a moment, unable to bear the sight of the love of his life making eyes at another person.
He took a deep breath, trying to rationalize the feelings bubbling up in his chest, the anger and betrayal he could feel. Sherlock opened his eyes, watching the couple talking in hushed tones. John was edging closer to her, smiling that wonderful secretive smile, licking his lips and brushing their knees carefully. But that smile, Sherlock could hardly stand it. That smile was for him, and him only!
He tipped his head back, letting it rest against the window behind him. Sherlock had to control this. This was idiotic! He could suppress his urges if he just shut off his brain for a moment, focus on the work, the work was all that mattered, just as it had been before John came into his life.
He tried oh, Sherlock tried, but as soon as he opened his eyes again they were still there. That bloody woman was almost in John's lap now, touching his chest. No. Oh god no.
Her fingers were stroking over the point on John's shoulder, the exact area where the scar tissue was the most sensitive. Sherlock watched in horror as a flicker of pain and discomfort passed over his partner's face. Nobody, and he meant NOBODY was going to hurt his John.
Sherlock launched himself across the room, marching angrily towards the woman, he was aware of a low growling sound rippling in his throat like an animal, he didn't care. This ended now.
"Sherlock!" John exclaimed, throwing the woman off his lap and staring at him like he had just burnt down the kitchen, which was not an uncommon look between the pair to be honest.
"DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH HIM!" Sherlock roared at the blonde, he pulled John towards him and clasped his body to his chest possessively.
"I-I-I-don't –I" She stammered. "W-why?"
"BECAUSE HE IS MINE AND I LOVE HIM, THAT'S WHY!" Sherlock grabbed John and pulled him up to kiss him passionately, wrapping his arms around him in desperation to get closer to the smaller man.
John laughed in disbelief as he was dragged away from the emptying bar by his hand, held in the iron like grip of the consulting detective. Sherlock was seething with pent up sexual frustration and ferocious masculinity which dominated his personality. He tugged John around the corner into the street, hailing a cab and practically throwing the other man inside. "221B Baker Street, quickly!" He said to the driver, his knees jiggling with anticipation.
John had no idea what had brought on this new angry, primal look in his lovers eyes, but oh, he loved it.
They didn't say a word for the entire journey, John risking glances at his lover occasionally, Sherlock holding their hands tightly between them.
They drew up at Baker Street, and Sherlock paid the driver quickly, dragging John up the stairs and through the flat straight into his bedroom. "Sherlock what is going on?" John panted. Sherlock turned to him, whirling round and crushing John's body against the wall.
"I'm jealous, that's what! I thought I could take it but I was wrong, I can't do it John, YOU ARE MINE, MINE!" Sherlock shouted, pressing John's chest flush against his. The doctor gasped at the stab of heat in his groin as Sherlock latched onto his neck, sucking and biting his sensitive skin, branding him.
"Yes! Yes!" He cried, pulling at Sherlock's hair, his clothes, tearing them off of the other man's body, the arousal taking hold of him. "Oh God, Sherlock YES!" John moaned as he was pushed roughly onto the bed.
"SAY IT!" Sherlock growled, his voice deep and seductive, wrenching open John's shirt and burying his nose in John's scent, running his lips up and down the other man's body. Sherlock stroked his hair, his back, letting the animalistic impulses overcome him.
"I'm yours, Sherlock; I'll always be yours, no one else's!" John said obediently, arching into the other man as his fingers toyed with the zip of his trousers.
"Mine..." Sherlock whispered, licking his lips and climbing on top of the doctor. "Mine."
The detective stirred, the sheet falling from his hips. His eyes fluttered open to find John next to him, his hands behind his head, a devious smile playing on his lips. The doctor noticed his eventual movement, turning his head to face him. Sherlock lifted his head, rubbing his hand over his eyes blearily, the last dregs of adrenaline seeping from his pores.
"Morning" He rumbled, rolling over and cuddling John to his chest.
"Good morning to you too" John replied, arching an eyebrow, wondering when Sherlock was going to remember the earth shattering sex from last night. The detective stiffened, pulling away from his lover, eyes scanning feverishly over his naked body, calculating his every movement to assess his level of pain.
"John, John I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me I, I didn't want to hurt you" Sherlock brushed the purpling bruises forming over John's neck and chest where his lips had attacked his skin in a fit of passion.
"Now you listen to me, there is no way on earth I am letting you apologise for that frankly amazing night. You are quite rough when you know what you want Mr Holmes, I'll give you that, but there are times when that's what I want." John said, stroking the other man's hair affectionately. "Although, I am curious as to how you managed to give my left nipple a love bite..."
"Oh" was all the detective could think to say.
Sherlock reached up and placed gentle fingertips on his lover's jaw to turn his head, gasping at the angry red and purple welts blotching his wonderful skin.
John laughed, "That's nothing, cup of tea and I'll be right as rain." Sherlock kissed him on the lips hungrily.
"You're sure?" He asked, kissing a path over John' chest and neck then back up again.
"...Well if you continue doing that we are never leaving this bed again, I can tell you that much" The detective chuckled and released his grip. "I do have something to confess to, however" John began.
"Oh?" Sherlock replied, running his hands over John's chest and moving down his legs, absently lingering on the inside of his thigh. John made a sound which sounded a lot like 'gnagh' and slapped the detective's hands away so he could think straight.
"Yes, I seem to have got a bit carried away when you were...doing all those things. To be sure, I'm going to need you to turn over."
"Yes doctor" Sherlock winked at him before rolling to lie on his chest. He smiled as he heard John's breath hitch at the sight of him. He felt a delicate touch trailing between his shoulder blades and down his spine, finally coming to rest on his arse. John laughed at the bemused expression on his partner's face.
"Here" he said, his hand cupping the exact point on Sherlock's body where he had caused him harm. Sherlock craned his neck to see his own backside, chuckling at the sight before him. John lifted his warm touch from his body and let him view the five little blotches on his pale skin, exactly in alignment with the digits of John's fingers. He rolled his eyes, stroking a hand along John's arm, "It's all fine" he said, pulling the good doctor towards him and touching their skin at every available point on their naked bodies, just wanting to be close to his lover. They kissed lazily for some moments, Sherlock breathing in John's scent, letting his hands idly explore the other man's body.
John wriggled into his touch, closing his eyes as the detective began letting his fingers linger more intimately on his person. He moved to whisper into Sherlock's ear. "I think I can manage to administer a few more red marks to that lovely pale skin of yours if you're up for it" He said, moving his hands to cup Sherlock's arse nonchalantly, giving it an experimental squeeze and releasing him.
Sherlock sighed "You are incredible, have I told you that?" he said, slipping his leg carefully between John's thighs.
"That's something I never tire of hearing" John replied, twisting his fingers into Sherlock's hair as he could feel the growing hardness between them. His hand jerked and he pulled on Sherlock's hair, the detective grunted and thrust into him.
"Doctor Watson likes it rough does he?" He growled, settling comfortably against his lover's pelvis and dragging their bodies together.
John pushed Sherlock back against the pillows, hands still fisted in his hair; he climbed atop the detective and locked their bodies together. "He does indeed" He rumbled, pushing into him in one swift, violent movement, the action manifesting itself in a mixture of intense pleasure and pain for the detective.
Sherlock screamed.