Sherlock's eyes flutter, open, his senses finally coming to him as the sweet scent of blu-no, strawberry pancakes makes its way to his nose. Furrowing his brow, he wonders who on Earth could be cooking so close or in his flat. Especially now that Mrs. H is no longer around, bless her soul. Also, it's a Thursday, so John is in the clinic early.
Slowly getting out of bed, he wraps his mahogany dressing gown around his body and pads down the hallway, and stepping into the kitchen. "Molly?"
Molly whips around, not having heard him, and smiles shyly. "Sherlock! Did I wake you? I'm sorry."
"No, I-...what are you doing here?"
Molly blushes more and smiles. "Happy Birthday. I wanted to make you a nice breakfast before going into work. Thought you could use it. John said you've been swamped with cases. I'm glad you have a little break to enjoy your day."
Sherlock smiles slightly. "Thank you...but you didn't have to do this. Also, I don't know how enjoyable it will be. John and Lestrade are adamant that they take me to Angelo's for 'a few pints' to celebrate. They know I hate that, but if it will get them off my arse, I can hopefully sneak out once they're smashed enough."
She giggles and goes over, hugging his middle. "Ohh it'll be alright. I promise. If you want, I can sleepover tonight. Give you a little birthday treat", she smirks teasingly.
Ever since they had decided to make a go of a relationship, it has been slow but steady. Relaxed, but fulfilling nonetheless. In fact, it was very nice and maybe John was right. Not that he would ever tell him that.
Sherlock can feel his cock harden a bit at her teasing tone and clears his throat. "Uhh...yeah. Yeah, I think...that would be good."
Molly snorts and moves onto her tiptoes to place a kiss on his lips. Sherlock places his hands on her sides and leans into it. He loves the feel of her lips and can't imagine why he ever thought of them as small. They are perfect.
After a few moments of light snogging, Molly pulls away and laughs. "Alright, come on and eat. I do still have to report to Bart's today. I don't think Mike would take too kindly to me if I let our relationship force me to be late on the regular.
"Oh I can handle Mike", he grumbles and pouts, moving into the living room to sit in his chair.
She rolls her eyes and plates three pancakes onto his, then pours him some coffee, dropping three sugar cubes into it before bringing it over to him.
"These smell amazing, Molly."
"I hope so, I have perfected the art of strawberry pancakes. They're my favorite too", she grins and grabs her own plate and coffee, sitting opposite him in a new yellow chair that he had brought in for her, their three chairs all facing each other.
They eat in comfortable silence and once they finish Molly is quick to clean up, going into his bathroom to quickly brush her teeth and then coming back out.
"Have a great birthday, my sexy detective", she smirks and kisses the corner of his mouth.
Sherlock flushes pink and looks up at her. "Thank you, my darling pathologist. I'll see you tonight?"
"Wouldn't miss it", she beams, grabbing her coat and keys, and blowing one last kiss before leaving for work.
.
.
Sherlock sulks as he finishes his pint, looking between John and Lestrade. "Don't you fools both have children you should be looking after?"
"Oh lighten up, mate, my eldest two are watching the younger two for a little bit", Greg chuckles, clearly buzzed.
"Yes, and I'm sure their mother would be thrilled to know that you're at a pub instead with them."
"Hey! It's my friend's birthday, I'm allowed one night, Sherlock."
"Yeah, lay off Sherlock, and Rosie is with a babysitter. She's fine, and the girl has my mobile number", he drawls, buzzed as well.
"Well the cake and the pint was er…nice...but I'm gonna take my leave", he says impressed. "John, I hope you thoroughly vetted this babysitter. I won't have some random unqualified teen watching my goddaughter."
John rolls his eyes. "I did a background check, she's fine."
"I hope so."
"Don't leave so early, you always do this. Don't be a buzzkill."
"I have better things to attend to than watch you two get smashed."
"Like?", John chuckles, not believing him.
Greg smirks and nudges John. "Oh, you really cannot be that unobservant. I'm no Sherlock but it's fairly obvious."
John looks confused and Lestrade laughs. "Molly, John. Molly. She should be home from Bart's by now and if I'm correct, most likely not at her home either."
"OHHH!" John grins and laughs. "Sherlock's got a birthday treat for him, eh? Have a great first experience, mate."
"Shut up, John!", he growls annoyedly and grabs his Belstaff, leaving the pub, his friends laughing after him at their joke.
.
.
Pushing open the door of 221B, Sherlock is hit by a light scent of perfume. He can't help but smile; it's Molly's signature scent. A light floral with a hint of vanilla.
Draping his Belstaff over the arm of the sofa, he calls out her name.
"Molly?"
A slightly muffled, but nervous voice calls back. "In here!"
Anxiety begins to make its way through Sherlock's veins as his feet carry him towards her voice as if he isn't in control. Stopping outside his bedroom door, he swallows thickly.
'Get a grip, it's just sex', the devil in his head mentally scolds him. 'Yeah, something you haven't had since University', the supposed angel, or devil number two, says in response as they laugh, mocking him.
Shaking himself from these thoughts, he gently pushes open the door to his bedroom and the air catches in his throat, making it near impossible to breathe.
There Molly stands. Her body is lean, and her best assets are currently sculpted by bright red lingerie. Matching lacy push-up bra and panty set. Her hair is down and flowing, the slight waves cascading over her shoulders. Her eyes are bright but carry a lot of worry.
No doubt she was terrified of his rejection, but Molly was also prone to be very self-conscious. To be fair, some of it was his own doing in the past, his cruel words. But he was fortunate to have another chance with her and to make amends, and this time he won't fuck up. This time he will let her know just how treasured she is to him.
Sex is not really his area, neither is love. But Molly had proven one of those things wrong already, and he is willing to bet that she could change the other as well, given the chance with him.
He blinks and looks her over. She blushes more and swallows hard. "Sherlock? You don't have to look so scared...I can um-...I'll change, I can see this was a bit premature."
"No!", he shouts then clears his throat. "I mean...no, I-I'm not- you look- it's just-..."
Molly holds back a giggle and goes on her tiptoes, hugging him close and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "Take your time."
Sherlock looks down into her warm brown eyes and is instantly calm. "I'm okay. You just make me speechless, which is more than I can say about anyone else in the world", he chuckles, brushing his thumb over her cheek. "Also, I hope this goes without saying, but you are very beautiful Molly, in every way."
He hesitates for a split second before stroking her bare sides. He leans down and captures her lips in a soft kiss which quickly turns into snogging, reminiscent of this morning.
Molly cups his face, playing with his tongue. Her hands gently rub his chest, moving to finally unbutton the stained buttons of his shirt. Her nimble fingers work quickly then softly push the fabric off of his shoulders. Their lips part, both of them panting for oxygen.
Sherlock gently leans down and scoops her up around his waist, she immediately responds and wraps her legs around his waist and drapes her arms over her shoulders.
"God, Molly...red is your color."
She giggles and runs her fingers through his curls, eliciting a purr of pleasure from him. She continues by leaning in and kissing down his neck, finding his sweet spot and giving it special attention until low moans are falling from his lips.
Sherlock walks her to his bed and lies her down, crawling over her. Molly pants softly and arches her back when his cupid's bow lip begin to make their way down her skin.
Making his way off the bed, Sherlock makes quick work of discarding his trousers before resuming his place between her legs, kissing and sucking her neck the way she did with him.
He roams his hand along her body and dips one below the red lacy underwear, beginning to pleasure her with his fingers as she writhes in pleasure at his touch.
Molly knows that he wasn't actually a virgin, but it had been well over a decade since he let himself indulge in this way. She had assumed that he didn't need the info, and this would be very much a learning experience for him again, but God no. He had stored these skills away in the back of that brilliant mind and holy hell she's thrilled he had.
Soon he has her crashing over the edge, moaning his name. He lets out a growly moan and kisses back up her body, unclasping her bra (quite expertly, she notes) and slipping her panties off. He sits back on his knees and gasps at the glory of her bare body, all laid out for him.
She sits up and crawls over to him, tugging his boxers off of him and gaping for a moment at him. She knew he had to be a large man, but she didn't know he would be this delicious.
'Not worth thinking because duh, but he has definitely got Tom beat...by inches' she thinks to herself, she pulls him onto the bed, and he pants, moaning as she strokes him eagerly.
Sherlock allows himself to let all his guards down, something he can only do with Molly. It feels so right, and what she's doing right now feels so fucking good, but he wants more.
"Molly", he gasps out.
"Yes, Sherlock?"
"Fuck...", he moans.
She smirks devilishly before relacing her hand with her mouth, skillfully working his length.
Sherlock can't help but let out a loud moan at the feeling. He had truly forgotten how it felt to be this intimate, and if he ever had a say he would never forget again.
Working him up to the edge, she doesn't cease until he crashes over, orgasming hard. He breathes heavily and moans her name as she pulls away, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.
He stares up and her and strokes her thighs as she begins to straddle him. "Happy Birthday, Sherlock Holmes", she smirks as she leans down and kisses his chest, grinding on him until they are both more than eager to give in to the friction.
Molly sinks down onto his length and steadies herself, hands on his chest as they both moan. Sherlock strokes her body needily and realizes that there is no way he is never giving up this woman again. She is his, and he is hers.
When she begins to move and they get into a rhythm, his mind begs to short-circuit. The pleasure is overwhelming but addictive, something he would want again and again with her.
Once they are both sated and spent, cuddling into each other's arms, Sherlock looks down at the best blessing whatever higher power has given him. Her eyes sparkle and she smiles up at him in a way that makes his heart beat faster. Yes, this is the best birthday he has ever had.
On top of that, he can still validly say that he never lied. Girlfriends really aren't his area. His Molly, however, very much is.