Hi. I am a very hungry MTP johnlocker and I cook my own food.
Yes.
owo
.
A click of the door lock echoed in the silent flat. Two men entered, drunk walking, lumpishly making their way to the beige sofa.
Celebrating a solved case with more than one drink resulted in Sherlock and John coming home completely drunk and deciding to sleep in the shared room, the only witness being the crescent moon glowing through the window.
Sherlock woke up in the middle of the night , nuzzled his nose against John's neck, inhaling his musky scent and adoringly listened to his breathing.
- My John… - he mumbled, hugging his partner and, seconds later, he fell asleep again.
.
Waking up, John Watson felt a heavy load on his chest and half-consciously, he tried to recognise its nature and origin. Has the case possibly gone wrong? An explosion? Was he buried under some objects?
The memories of last night lazily cleared his memory. He could clearly remember entering the bar. The drinks. Sherlock's laughter. The images started to fade and climbing stairs of 221B was the most vague image he could remember, but he welcomed the realisation that the heavy weight sprawled on top of him was six feet of consulting detective.
He exhaled, watching Sherlock soundly asleep on him and lovingly stroke his long black hair.
- Good morning. – John whispered, massaged his partner's neck and gently scratched behind Sherlock's ear.
- Nnnnhh. – the man moaned lazily, tightened the grip of his arms around John's body, and rubbed his cheek against his partner's chest.
- Now that the case is solved, what about a short vacation for us? Enjoying the weather, maybe swimming, you would sunbathe a bit.
- Sunbathe? - Sherlock moaned with distaste. - I don't sunbathe, John.
- Well, then just laze around? Your mood is better and sleep schedule regular, so it wouldn't be a problem, huh?
- Hmm... I will think about it.
- Yes. And now get off me, I have an urgent business in the lavatory. – John chuckled, tickling Sherlock's waist to make him go off him - which he did, in the laziest manner.
.
Having arrived at an inn in Sussex several hours later, the men made themselves comfortable in the spacious room with a view on the beach. John was excited about the billiards table in the room and delicious supper served in the restaurant downstairs.
The very next morning, Sherlock woke up feeling John kissing his closed eyelids, temples and above eyebrows. He sighed quietly and enjoyed the delicate shower of kisses on his face.
- Wake up, love. – John hummed and smooched Sherlock's forehead. It was when Sherlock opened his eyes and realized it was still dark.
- Good morning. Hmm… What time is it? And why are you already dressed? You are the one who always sleeps late. – Sherlock muffled, failing to deduce his friend's intentions.
- I want to see the sunrise. Let's go! I'll pack your bathing suit! – John exclaimed, and rushed to fulfill his intent.
- Sunrise? What are you, a woman? – Sherlock thought with slight annoyance. Waking up before dawn was the last thing he expected on the first day of vacation.
Though he was initially not very enthusiastic, Sherlock was amazed by the natural spectactle. The sky, dark blue at first, turned gradually from purple and pink to red and orange, to finally take a most beautiful shade of blue. Certainly not a view to see from the window of 221 B. Seeing John's eyes sparkle pure enthusiasm at the beautiful sunrise at the beach was an additional reward for waking up early. Sherlock was first to stand up and pat his clothes from sand.
- So? Are we going to swim? - he asked casually. John nodded, and they went together towards a neat row of bathing machines on the beach. Making sure to go unnoticed by any possible witnesses, the men decided to change out of their usual clothes into swimwear using two wooden huts on wheels. Though, instead of prompting the horse to wade in the water, Sherlock quickly changed into his swimming suit, tugged day clothes under his arm, left his bathing machine and joined the cart occupied by John.
- I'm not done yet. - John reported, buttoning his swimming outfit, as Sherlock hugged him from behind and rested his head on John's shoulder.
- The beach is still empty. - the detective whispered, nuzzling
- Sherlock, no. We are not going to make love in a public plhnnhn!? - the passionate kiss did not let him finish.
Several minutes, kisses, bites and hungry touches later, they were having sex in the small roofed and walled wooden cart; John on the verge of coming, gagged by Sherlock's fingers to keep him quiet.
Sherlock's rhythmic thrusts were simultanous with John's hands leaning and hitting against the wall; the motion prompted the horse to move the swimming machine into the water.
By the time the horse stopped, they were already resting on the floor, post-coital, heavy breathing.
- That was... - John began, still catching breath - absolutely amazing.
- Of course it was. We commited sodomy in the public place. And you are wonderful. - Sherlock purred, affectionately nuzzling his nose against the John's shoulder.
- Right. Let's get into water before anyone starts to wonder why two men share the bathing machine. – the blonde suggested, opened the door and jumped into the water.
- Oh, John, wait, looks like I ruined your suit. You better cover your backside. - Sherlock laughed amused, tossed their clothes to John, hopped into the sea and prompted the horse to come back on the sand. By the time someone occupies the cart again, no one will know who the cum stains on the wooden wall and floor belong to.
The very next moment, John was promenading from the water into the beach, covering his ruined swimming suit with his and Sherlock's clothes, and angrily passed few people who were on their way to the bathing machines.
Sherlock followed, laughing loudly.
- I hate you! - John screamed, blushing wildly, having passed a couple who stared at both men with confusion.
- My cooking. - Sherlock casually admitted, and was given understanding nods. Behind his back, he was told to stay away from the kitchen.
.
At the inn, Sherlock's face was nearly hit by the door.
- Come on, don't be mad. You liked it.
- It was so embarrassing! How would you feel, if you was to take a walk of shame!?
- How would I feel getting freshly banged by the most handsome man in London? Fantastic! And I would keep the ruined swimsuit as a precious souvenir. You don't want to toss it away, ri-
- This is a wrong moment to pay compliments, Sherlock! - John snapped angrily, before the other finished his sentence, tossed the clothes on the floor, grabbed a new piece of underwear and left to the bathroom, loudly shutting the door behind him.
- So? Are you going to keep it? And don't wash it, I somewhat feel attached to the cum stains. - Sherlock said casually, leaning his hand against the billiard table, as John came back.
- Which ones? Our suits are also in cum stains after you tossed them to me. - John hissed.
- Martha will have fun, washing these. - Sherlock laughed, entertained by the mental image of giving Miss Hudson a pile of clothes all over stained with semen.
- This is not what I imagined when I suggested to go on vacation. What was on my mind was walking on the promenade, ice cream in hand, or sandcastle building, donkey rides! Wait, maybe not that... But I loved donkey rides on the sand when I was a kid! I imagined sunbathing, and taking a dip in the sea in my new bathing suit.
- Well, you still have a chance! - Sherlock replied, laughing, somewhat anxious about John's anger not decreasing.
- You know what? You are right! Especially about taking the dip. In you.
- Of cour- Wait, what? - Sherlock asked in the very moment as John tore his swimsuit into two pieces, and pushed him onto the table.
- You heard me.
- Wait, hold on, John! This is my first time, uh, receiving! - Sherlock stuttered, holding his hands open to gesture the will to restrain his partner.
- Shut up. - the medic hissed, taking a hold on Sherlock's wrists with both hands and licking his long pale neck. It tasted like salty water.
- Oh... - Sherlock gasped, feeling John sucking on his Adam's apple, his earlobes, his lips. He gladly let John's explore his mouth; his eyes dilated as he felt John's tongue going right into his throat.
- It better... was... a gasp... of horror... - the blonde whispered, between kisses - Because I am still mad.
- I am... indeed... terrified. - Sherlock mumbled, feeling a bite against his skin, right under the collarbone, followed by a lick, and another bite, centimeters away from the first one.
Sherlock groaned with delight and made himself comfortable on the billiards table as John's hands moved from his wrists to his sides, and delicately - but decisively - caressed his skin towards his waist and hips.
- Don't bite. - Sherlock murmured, feeling John's tongue gliding along his penis.
- Hm, I won't bite and I won't suck. I nearly forgot I wanted to punish you. – the medic whispered, his hot breath stimulating the erected member – Now, what do we have here? – John grunted with a smirk, taking the cue stick off the table and tapped it in his palm a few times.
- A magic wand? - Sherlock asked impishly, feeling the end of the sport implement against his cheek, slowly gliding along his neck, his nipple, his navel, his pubic area, his erected shaft.
- You can certainly call it so, since magic is about to happen - John vowed, pressing the tip of the cue stick against Sherlock's anus.
- You're a wizard, John. - the detective whispered, as John put the cue stick away and entered his finger into his partner's rear.
- You bet your ass I am.
Moments later, John was taking Sherlock on the billiard table, thrusting decisively, pulling his long black hair, them both moaning in utter pleasure.
- Oh John, oh fuck! - Sherlock gasped, feeling John's hot semen inside him, his own fluids splashing on his partner's stomach and chest.
Sherlock rested breathlessly on the billiard table as John leaned and cupped his face to kiss him greedily, clumsily, passionately.
They looked in each other's eyes, blurred eyes, hazy eyes, eyes that silently screamed "I love you".
Although Sherlock did not like any sentiments, as he considered them cheezy and overrated, he opened his mouth and formed it to say "I", yet before he could make a sound, John was out of his sight.
- Clean this. - John blurred out, walked away and fell onto the bed.
.
After dinner they went on a walk by the sea; spent the hot afternoon enjoying ice cream, talking and laughing, strolling by the shore.
Going back to the inn together, they chose to go through the woods, their fingers intertwined, their eyes smiling, their glances loving.
Feeling somewhat guilty for ravishing his partner on the billiards table, John showered Sherlock with delicate kisses on the lips once their entered their room. In return, Shelock cupped John's face and gave him a most passionate French kiss, hugging him tightly. Emraced, they fell on the bed, in the dark room, their kisses and whispers breaking the silence of the summer night.
.
- Looks like I am an early bird today - Sherlock thought, his fingers absent-mindedly combing his partner's hair. Sherlock admired the long grayish blonde eyelashes as John's head was resting on his chest. He combed John's angel wing bangs aside and kissed his temple. He smiled warmly, hearing the cute sleepy noise John let out.
- Good morning. – Sherlock murmured impishly, stroking the top of John's hand.
- Good morning. – the medic replied. Then, he slid upwards, and rubbed his cheek against Sherlock's.
- Comfortable, huh?
- I could lay like this forever – John muttered with a content smile.
- A kind of all day in bed day?
- Exactly.
- Well, we can stay like this. Untill you get hungry. And our train leaves in six hours.
- That's enough.
- Though, I am not sure if I can stay idly chilling like this for too long. – Sherlock whispered, leaving wet kisses on John's nape while massaging his back and shoulders. He hugged his partner tightly from behind and showered his neck with loud kisses and soft moans. Within moments, Sherlock's fingertips started dancing across John's skin, exploring his chest, his stomach, his hips, his crotch. His slender fingers slid underneath the medic's underwear, and started stimulating the base of John's half-erected penis and the testicles.
- We will leave stains on both beds. – John whispered, slightly concerned, and gasped at the sensation of fingertips moving along his now erected shaft.
- Imagine the young maid imaging one of us masturbates while the other is in the lavatory.
- We masturbate a lot.
- Or we both suffer from severe spermatorrhoea. At least this is not a crime. Well, by the time someone starts to wonder why nobody has prescribed us a jugum penis or a four pointed urethral ring, we will be back in London. – Sherlock mummered, kissing John's shoulder. – Now, turn to me and kneel.
Moments later, John was frantically ruffling Sherlock's hair and rubbing his nape, moaning loudly, while receiving a most epic passionate blowjob.
.
Sitting in a train opposite of each other, Sherlock praised his partner for coming up with the idea to go on short vacation. He admitted that having his swimsuit torn in half and getting laid on the billiards table was a most enjoyable experience.
- You were really mad. So odd to see so much rage in such a small creature. – Sherlock laughed, smirking.
- You still haven't seen my final form.- John smirked, leaned over and reached his hand to hold Sherlock's knee.
- I am looking forward to it.