Runaway Home
Chp 25
There is a reason this was rate M…(Sorry for the wait)
Everything was a blur, flashing colors and sounds, John would never be able to properly remember the events leading up to their return home. There had been a trip to the hospital in which the nurses warily listened to the detective's claims of all the possible bacteria that could have been purposefully placed underneath one's nail to cause a fatality with what appeared to be a mere scratch. Then of course was the rather loud discussion Lestrade had with Sherlock about pick pocketing and gun theft. So after being strapped to a bomb, having to profess his love in front of a mad man, being snogged senseless by his flat mate, being subjugated to every test imaginable in regards to his cuts, protecting nurses from Sherlock, having to listen to Lestrade argue with Sherlock, all he wanted to do was go straight to bed. However, the detective had very different plans.
They entered the flat just as the sun had settled above the horizon and John chucked his jacket onto the back of his chair. He rubbed a heavy hand across his face in the hopes to sweep away at least some of the sleep from his eyes. He wanted to just slump up to his bed and sleep for a year, but he knew they needed to talk about this. Yes, he had been excited to just jump right into…well…anything with the detective initially, but he'd had time to think properly while on their various trips. They couldn't do this without communication; he needed to know where they stood with each other. So, with one final deep sigh John turned to face his flat mate to have what could potentially be the most important conversation of his life (he didn't know it yet, but his most important one wouldn't happen until years later and surprisingly the detective would be no where near).
"Sherlock, we should talk about what happened."
John stated as he watched the detective stride into the living room.
"What is there to talk about?"
Sherlock asked coyly, John could have smacked that smug look off his face at that. He always needed make everything so bloody complicated.
"The kiss Sherlock. Or, more importantly, what it meant to you. I'm sure you can deduce what it meant to me, especially since you heard how I feel about you. I just need to know what this is to you, because I'm not looking to be some experiment."
John protested and straightened his posture so that he could put more power behind the statement.
"John, I assure you that was not an experiment. I have thought long and hard what your lips would feel like against mine…that was better, so much better than I'd ever thought it would be. I plan to kiss you for as long as you let me."
Sherlock declared purposefully, his face was stern but his hands were clutched behind his back apprehensively. He was nervous John realized. The great Sherlock Holmes was nervous about kissing his ordinary, run of the mill, loyal, and obsessed flat mate. John smiled widely at the prospect. Sherlock was just as nervous as he was; he wanted this just as bad. All this time, he'd been so sure the detective had no interest in such things, now this…he had to contain himself from dancing around the room.
"How long?"
John asked quietly in an attempt to contain his excitement.
"What do you mean?"
The detective asked in a manner that made him look rather like a lost child.
"I mean…how long have you wanted to kiss me?"
John continued on; glad that he had the resolve to finish. He was quite sure the detective liked him now, possibly even loved him back, but that didn't make the question any less difficult. There was still the chance that he was just a little more attached, that Sherlock didn't feel nearly as much for John as he did for him. That's why he needed to know, he needed to know how long the detective had wanted this. Because John had wanted it for years now, though he'd only really known that he'd wanted it for months, and there was a lot of longing there. He needed to know if the detective had really spent a lot time waiting for this, if he really knew that this is what he wanted. Because John knew, and he didn't think he could go back to the way things were if Sherlock changed his mind.
"Since…I've wanted to kiss you since the day I found you with the cab driver. I've wanted to kiss you for so long it hurt…I thought, I was so sure you were straight. If I had known…you should have said something."
Sherlock explained breathlessly. John's smile grew even bigger and he took a step towards the detective so he could look up and see every detail of those pale blue eyes.
"I thought you weren't interested in sex. You're married to your work after all."
John said simply as he studied every emotion flickering through the detective's eyes.
"I was…I thought. However, you have a way of changing the way I think of things. I never cared for people much, but now I find myself caring for you more than anything else-"
That was all the boy needed to hear and he launched himself at the detective full force. Sherlock grunted with surprise but quickly got his wits about him and wrapped two long arms around John's smaller frame. They fit perfectly John thought as they stood in their living room reclaiming each other's mouths. The kiss was sweet and slow and full of purpose. This wasn't the needy adrenaline fueled kiss they'd shared at the pool; this was the kiss they'd been dreaming about. This was kiss that in that very room they'd spent fantasizing about, imagining how it would feel to have their lips and tongues intertwine and connect them in a passionate embrace. John couldn't help but let a small moan escape his throat at the thought of all the things he'd once thought to just be dreams becoming very real possibilities. He let his right hand fist a group of curls at the base of the detective's skull and reveled in the deep intake of breath the man took to steady himself. John continued to kiss deeply and passionately as his left hand made its slow journey down the length of Sherlock's back. The feel of the man's silken fabric gliding beneath his palm was mesmerizing, but no where near as good as his destination. With determined fingers he finally took a hold of the detective's ample arse and gripped tightly. This time Sherlock moaned, though it came out as more of a squeak as the action had taken him off guard.
John wondered suddenly if this was the first kiss the detective had ever had. It was entirely possible considering his experience with most social costumes. The boy thought back to the pool and the first moments of that kiss, when Sherlock was in charge, he had chalked it u to nerves but now it seemed to make sense. The man had been enthusiastic yet hesitant and had started out rather messily. As John took further control of this kiss and felt the detective grow wonderfully pliant to his touch, it became quite obvious. Sherlock never let someone else take charge if he knew what he was doing. The boy felt a sudden thrill at the thought of teaching the detective a few things.
With a burst of new found energy John pushed the detective against the nearest wall. Sherlock let out a slight huff of confusion at being thrust into a wall but fell silent when John intensified his ministrations to the man's tongue. The boy called upon every kiss he'd ever had, with every girl he'd ever been with to ensure this would be the single best kiss the brunette would ever have. His lips moved as quickly as his tongue and while Sherlock was understandably distracted by this John moved both his hands to cup the man's arse and pull him forward. The detective moaned again, this time with just as much surprise but far more urgency, as his hardening prick was pressed into John's warm stomach. The boy smirked at Sherlock's growing desire and decided to enhance it even more. Thinking back to the pool he shoved his tongue into the man's mouth and coiled it around his tongue then quickly slicked his tongue back into his own mouth. Sherlock leaned forward and surged his own tongue forward in search of the boy's. John pursed his lips just slightly and began to suck on the older man's tongue. The detective made a guttural noise that rumbled in his chest and went straight to Johns straining cock.
As the blonde quickened his pace and sucked more of the tongue into his mouth Sherlock's knees started to wobble to point that falling over was becoming more and more of a possibility. Before he did just that, John pushed his leg in between the detective's so that as he slid down the wall he came to rest on the boy's thigh. John could feel the heat rolling off of Sherlock's growing cock as it rubbed against his thigh. The boy grabbed tighter to the older man's arse and pulled him in closer so that he could feel John's own strengthening attraction press firmly into his lean thigh. Sherlock moaned in approval and opened his eyes to look down into John's as he continued to suck on the brunette's tongue. The detective gasped and pulled away with a shudder.
"Sherlock?"
John questioned, not sure if he'd done something wrong.
"John…I-I'm really close. I wa-I want to…"
Sherlock stammered out through breathy sighs and slight shivers that made John even more excited. He let a coy smile spread from ear to ear and then slid one hand off of the older man's arse and right onto his clothed cock.
"You want more?"
John asked in a husky voice that betrayed his mounting desire as the detective helplessly rocked against that hand and moaned desperately.
"Y-yes."
He mewled just as John had begun to roll his own cock into the brunette's thigh.
"Good, me too. But not here, let's go to bed."
The boy cooed softly into the man's ear and pulled away. The detective nearly collapsed before John took his hand and began leading him up the stairs.
"Wait."
Sherlock commanded with the most severity he could muster and stood in the living room without budging at all.
"What?"
The boy inquired with a bit of concern, if that had been his first kiss it was extremely likely any bedroom activities would be a first too. John lamented that could be pushing it, he was prepared to stop if the man needed some time.
"Not up there."
Sherlock said sternly which made John turn towards him room quizzically.
"Why? What's wrong with my room?"
He asked just a bit put out, the detective didn't expect them to continue in the living room did he?
"I don't want to go to your room, on your bed, where you've done this with so many other people."
Sherlock explained as a blush rose to his cheeks. John's face lit up with understanding and nodded knowingly. The detective didn't want to feel like he was just another, it was endearing actually if not just a tad heart breaking. Did he really think John could think that of him?
"All right love, go to your room and I'll be right back down, I just need to fetch something."
The boy said soothingly and after a soft pat on the older man's cheek he headed up his stairs two at a time. It didn't take him long to find his bottle of lube at the bottom of his sock drawer. There was still nearly half left and he thanked himself for being so careful as to always be well stocked. He clutched tightly to the promising bottle and made his way back down the stairs and into Sherlock's bedroom. He almost dropped the lube when he opened the door to see a very naked, very hard, detective lying wantonly in his large bed. He was running his long elegant fingers over his engorged cock and breathing heavily.
"Hurry up."
He huffed as he gave the head a quick squeeze. John could have drooled the sight was so gorgeous, but instead he opted for stripping himself nude and hopping into bed with lube in hand.
"John."
Sherlock breathed out eyeing the lube and John's lips quirked up into a devilish smile. Without any hesitation he squirted a large amount of the substance into his hand and tossed the bottle to the end of the bed. With an equally quick motion he took hold of the older man's cock and began to apply the slick lube along the shaft and up to the tip of the head. Sherlock fisted the blankets and gasped at the contact. John's smile widened as he teasingly ran the tips of his fingers along the underside of the reddening cock. The detective squirmed at the contact and his breaths became shorter and more forced.
"Christ!"
He hissed as John's left hand cupped his balls and messaged them gently.
"They're so full, Sherlock, I don't know if you're going to last."
John teased as he moved his hand off of the balls and lightly stroked the brunette's cock. The boy then traced a particularly large vein from the base of the penis up to the tip with his nail causing Sherlock cry out almost painfully. Being merciful John finally took hold of the detective's now leaking cock with a firm grip and slowly began to caress it. With gentle but solid strokes he began to properly allow for Sherlock to fuck his hand.
"John, Jesus!"
Sherlock cried out as John continued to pump the begging cock. The boy gave small chuckle at the neediness in the brunette's tone and leaned down to place languid kisses along his inner thigh. The detective yelped from the combined sensations and bucked his hips forward to create more friction. His breathing was erratic and would stop all together when John occasionally let his tongue swirl around the now beautifully forming hickey on his inner right thigh.
"Oh, John, John, This is-John!-this is fa-fantastic! No wonder people k-kill over this!"
Sherlock gasped as John increased his speed.
"Hmm, yes, this is only the beginning though Sherlock. We've still got a lot more to experience."
John hummed and the detective gave a helpless whimper in response. The boy moved his slick fingers off of the cock and over the balls until they came to rest just above Sherlock's entrance. Suddenly the man's hand shot out and caught John's arm just as he was about to push a finger inside.
"N-not yet. I want to, but, not yet. This is a lot for one day; I don't want to rush anything."
The detective said shakily and released the boy's arm.
"That's ok Sherlock."
John replied and kissed the man tenderly on the lips.
"there are plenty of other things we can do."
He continued and flicked his tongue out to lick down the hollow of the detective's neck.
"I can wait."
He stated confidently just before he dipped his soft tongue into the dip of Sherlock's navel.
"I can be very patient."
He finished as he kissed a path down to the tightening pair of balls in front of him. Sherlock was trembling by the time John sat up and scooted up the length of the man's legs so that he sat right below his hips. The boy took hold of the detective's dripping cock once more and pressed it against his own. Sherlock howled at the contact and forcefully thrust his hips upwards only pushing his and John's pricks together more vehemently. The blonde moved his nimble hand up and down the lengths of their cocks bringing forth a myriad of shouts and curses from the two of them.
"I dreamed about this for such a long time, i-its even better than I imagined!"
John cried out as he pressed himself against Sherlock. It was true too, John had been thinking of this for so long and yet he had never been able to predict the sensations to be so phenomenal. Their cocks sliding against each other and into his hand created such a perfect amount of friction he could have wept.
"Oh! Sherlock, oh god, it's so good!"
John shouted as the detective began bucking his hips in the most perfectly rhythmic fashion.
"Say-fuck!-say my name again! I'm s-so close; j-just say my name again!"
Sherlock panted and the rhythmic motion of his hips faltered just slightly. John nodded his head in acknowledgement but had to take in several shaky breaths before he could even think about talking again. The feel of their cocks together was blurring his mind a closing his throat up quite wonderfully.
"Sh-sherlock!"
He managed to gasp and as he did the detective came with a shout so loud John would later prey Mrs. Hudson was out at the time. The boy stroked them through the orgasm and was beginning to feel remarkably close himself. When Sherlock was spent he released the overly sensitive cock and concentrated on his own. With a few quick pulls he could have been done but a pair of large pale hands interrupted the maneuverings of the blonde. John looked up at the disheveled man with confusion.
"W-what are you doing Sherlock?"
The boy questioned in a pained voice, he really just needed to get off.
"I want to do it. I've been…imagining something for some time now; I'd like to do it if that's all right with you."
Sherlock explained a bit breathlessly as he was still recovering from a rather spectacular orgasm.
"Anything."
John pleaded and spread his legs wide as means of an invitation. Sherlock's eyes widened and he slowly lowered himself so that his full lips brushed across the head of the boy's penis momentarily. John whimpered at the brief contact and couldn't help but buck his hips upward in search of more friction. The detective gripped the blonde's hips tightly and pinned them to the mattress. Sherlock looked up at the boy devilishly and John supposed it was time for pay back. The detective leaned in and flicked out his tongue, letting it run along the veins it found along the boy's shaft.
"Shit!"
John almost sobbed as the detective slowly ran his tongue up and down his leaking penis. With one final stroke of his tongue Sherlock brought his lips to the tip of the boy's cock. John trembled as Sherlock's tongue circled around and around before he smoothly slid the thick cock into his hot mouth.
"Sherlock! Oh god! Just, fuck!"
John gasped as the detective sucked down his cock. Sherlock's tongue worked wonders as it swirled around the thick cock and the boy was crying out with pleasure instantly. With four wonderfully timed bobs of the older man's mouth John was coming with a shout that rivaled Sherlock's.
After some time (which included a stimulating shower together, a cup of tea that turned into a kitchen snogging, and then some more snogging in Sherlock's bed) they were huddled underneath the thick duvet on Sherlock's bed. John's back was pressed to Sherlock's front and the man had draped a possessive arm around him. He'd been snoring soundly for the past few minutes and it calmed the boy to listen to it. He was tired (exhausted actually) but he couldn't get his mind to shut off. So many of his questions had been answered, and yet so many more new questions had taken there place. Would Sherlock like being in a relationship? Would they act differently now? Does Sherlock like to be so affectionate normally? How often would he want to do stuff like this again? Would they tell any body yet?
He really couldn't concentrate on just one. So instead he tried to calm himself by listening to the steady beating of the detective's heart and the deep breaths he took every moment or so. It was really relaxing, and he hoped he'd be able to do it often. John shifted beneath the older man's weight only to be pulled flush against Sherlock's chest by the man's tightening grip. The boy felt warmth flutter out from his stomach and spread slowly through out his body. With a contented sigh John realized that all those questions could wait. He knew they would have struggles, there would be fights, and they would have to face Moriarty again eventually. For right now though, they were just where they needed to be. Home.
The next installment will be titled: Four Thursdays John would never forget.
Could be up as soon as tomorrow knowing me, so I hope to see you all soon! It will be covering all of Season two by the way, including the fall, but there is a third installment…it's a loooong story people. Hope you plan to stick with it! If not, it was great that you read this much! And thanks so much for all the reviews everyone!