Again...smut...Just warning...

There was no need for niceties as the two tumbled into the bedroom. Sherlock hurriedly undress himself, flinging his clothes onto the ground. John did the exactly same thing.

Once they finished, they both stopped, panting. Sherlock gazed at John, and John at him. John could feel the passion, the hunger, radiating from his lover. He could see the gleam in his eyes.

John was not going to lie to himself, he was nervous. He hadn't been so intimate with a man before, (God knows how much he did want to, though) and he had no idea what to expect or what to do. He could feel himself shaking.

Sherlock knew this though. He walked up to John, their eyes still locked. He cupped John's cheek with one hand, while the other caressed his back. John could not help but to close his eyes and drink in the feeling of Sherlock's touch. The softest touch could send shivers down his spine.

"I know. I will be gentle." He then proceeded to kiss John passionately on his lips. John was more than willing to comply. He pushed his hips into Sherlock's, as if he had to feel every piece of his skin.

It was not long before he felt Sherlock's arousal rubbing against his. He bit back a moan. He hadn't felt this bit of pleasure in what felt like forever. He started to grip Sherlock's shoulders as the only means to hold his weak legs up.

Sherlock gave a chuckle. In John's ear he whispered, "Does it feel good?"

John's answer was a strangulate noise from his throat. His grinded a bit harder, hoping to sooth the hot throbbing. He would have cummed right there if Sherlock didn't intervene.

"Oh no, John." He pushed away, much to John's dismay. "The fun is only just starting. Lie on the bed."

John did just as he ordered. Sherlock leaned over him giving him a quick kiss on his lips. Then his chin. Then his neck. Then, painfully slowly down the rest of his body. John was getting impatient.

"Sherlock! Please…" John moaned.

"Good. Things. Comes. To. Those. Who. Wait." Sherlock said in between each kiss. Sherlock was enjoying this more than he was letting on. He liked seeing John squirm under his touch.

Sherlock continued to kiss down his stomach to the side of his legs. Sherlock had to grasp a hold of John's legs to stop them from moving. John was gripping the sheets in frustration. He had waited for too long for Sherlock to start playing with him.

John was about to complain when Sherlock took a hold of his cock and gently stroked it. John groaned when Sherlock hit a certain sweet spot. A little bit of pre-cum could not help but to spill over.

"Ju-u-st th-there." He stuttered.

Sherlock smiled. He locked eyes with his partner and he replaced his hand with his lips. His hand focused on his own cock, massaging it. The pleasure for him became intense, so much so that he felt that he would explode.

That was when John tightened the grip on the sheets, his hips jerked automatically. His breath hitched, trying to ride through the different feelings that rushed through his body.

Sherlock expertly manoeuvred his lips around his cock, his tongue trying to repeatedly hit the sweet spot over and over again.

John was barely holding it together when Sherlock pulled his last move on him. He started to hum.

The vibration flowed through his lips and throat. This forced John over the edge.

"OH MY GODDDDDDDDD! SHERLOCKKKKKKK…" John screamed as his climax hit him. He came harder than he had ever had when he was with Mary. Sherlock dutifully swallowed all of it. Then removed his lips from his member.

The sound of John's scream made Sherlock himself cum. And just like John, his orgasm hit him harder than it ever had before. He groaned, flinging his head back and squeezed his eyes shut as he climaxed.

Sherlock summoned the last bit of his energy to climb onto the bed next to his love, whom had collapsed onto the sheets.

They cuddled for a few seconds before Sherlock said: "I have an unexplainable need for tea at this moment."

XXX

"Jesus Christ, Sherlock. Where did you learn that?" John asked as he gingerly walked out of the room to make a cup of tea.

"I had to do a lot of undercover work in my time. One of them was working as a bartender in a male strip club. It is amazing what those men can tell about."

"You worked in a strip club!?" John exclaimed.

"Yes, he did. He was trying to find information about a sex trafficker."

"Jesus Christ!" John jumped up about ten feet, nearly breaking the mug. He turned to see Mycroft patiently waiting at the table. His umbrella rested on the table's leg. On his face was painted a rare grin.

John unconsciously pulled his gown tighter around his body.

"Not quite. Hello brother mine."

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock growled as he walked over to the fridge. "Shouldn't you be off providing protecting for other criminals?"

"Oh don't be like that." Mycroft snarled. "My job is my job. Anyway the reason I am here is to tell you that we are having a family Christmas this year."

Sherlock groaned as he shut the fridge. "Oh God, no."

"I know. But this time they have invited John and his wife," he shot John a look that told him that he was still committed to another, "along with us."

They both looked at John, who was visibly pale. He shook his head. "No no no. Thanks for the offer but I can't do that."

"Well John, there is not much of a choice. Mary has already accepted."

John's blood ran cold. "Fuck."

Mycroft got up. "You know how much I hate being the bearer of bad news, but there it is." Mycroft turned on his heel and walked straight out of the door, stopping only to say. "You might want to invest in thicker walls; the whole of Baker Street could hear what was going on in there."

My dear bokkies

I am sorry for this sudden addition to the story. I couldn't help myself.

Plus plot development.

Love from thecapefangirl