Three days and three long nights had passed since the case had closed, and John and Sherlock had been spent their days much the same as always, Sherlock solving cases that where fours or fives by text, and simply ignoring anything less, John reading, making tea, and doing a bit of tidying around Sherlock's less explosive of experiments. They're nights, had been...well...tentative and sweet if not a little frustrating. John, "the saint" not wanting to push Sherlock, into anything he wasn't ready for, just enjoying and revealing in the fact that this was real. Sherlock, had seemed edgy and John didn't know what to make of it. Was Sherlock having second thoughts and realizing that this was not after all what the genius had wanted?
"I think we should sleep apart." Sherlock said abruptly and a little too loudly standing just inside the door of the loo watching John. He had been acting a little high strung and now John knew why.
"What! Why? I mean, why? What's wrong?" John felt fear flar up.
"Because John, I find that I want to do...things...with you. And...I...want." He spoke the words slowly as if trying to understand them himself. John thought for a silent moment, watching Sherlock thought his reflection in the mirror who was now gazing at his naked feet on the cold bathroom tile. The fact that Sherlock wanted him and hearing him say those words was so incredibly arousing, that when John did speak, it was with a voice laden with lust. John turned towards Sherlock.
"Then do them." The words were simple every day words and they shouldn't have made Sherlock feel a wash in heat, they shouldn't have made his breath heavy and his blood buzz in his ears, but they did.
"I'm yours. All and forever." John repeat Sherlock's own words and watched as his eyes widened in shock and then narrowed in understanding. Sherlock watched John walk over to where he was standing. "Yes. I heard you." John slipped his hand up under the tail of Sherlock's t-shirt, up over his rib cage, and brushed the pad of each finger deliberately over Sherlock's taunt nipple. Sherlock shivered, and made a struggling breath, it was beautiful to watch. Sherlock slid down the wall a bit, pressed his shoulders back and arched up. John ran his thumb over Sherlock's nipple and then let his hand mark a path behind Sherlock's back and down to his tail bone where John pressed Sherlock into John's growing reaction.
"Now, tell me all your secrets Sherlock Holmes."
This John said just before he pulled Sherlock's shit up and started kissing his chest, sucking a deep red/purple make on his peck, moving his lips down Sherlock's fluttering stomach, Johns hands held Sherlock's narrow hips as he kissed and licked at his hip bone. Sherlock ran his hands over Johns shoulders rubbing and squeezing, his fingers brushed the nap of John's neck, up into his short crisp hair pressing him closer.
"My bed sheets smell like you. And it makes me hard."
It was a whisper, just like a secret. Sherlock went on. "I want your fingerprints all over my body, I want you inside me, I want to swallow you completely." Sherlock's voice was a low rumble, each word sounded like hunger. John couldn't speak, couldn't think, all John could do was moan and lick and kiss and want. And right now he wanted to suck every one of Sherlocks secrets out of him. John ran his mouth over the bulge of Sherlock's cock through his black cotton pants. Pleasure so intense shot through Sherlock making him arced sharply and thunk the back of his head against the wall. John repeated the motion, stroking him with his lips, as John then pushed his hands into the back of Sherlock's pants and kneaded his plush bottom at the same time.
"John...I...oh god...I...can't." Sherlock's thighs quivered, and John could feel the strain in Sherlock's body.
"Bedroom Love?" Johns voice was heavy and dark as he came up and kissed and biting the hollow of Sherlock's beautiful neck.
"Please." Sherlock could hardly speak or stand and clung to John.
Sherlock did indeed become, a very sexual creature, allowing John to lavish his body, in all manners of sweet debauchery. And also giving a far bit himself.
Once they slipped into Sherlock's bedroom, and down onto his lush bed, John took Sherlock in his mouth and the man fairy purred, aching his hips up to met John's mouth digging his heels into the bed whispering, pleading, praying John's name over and over, begging for release. But John would not be so kind, he pressed slick fingers into Sherlock's body, deep and rhythmic driving Sherlock mad. It was the most beautiful thing John had ever seen, Sherlock, pale skin dotted with bit marks, John's name on his swollen lips, and his cock flushed and hard against his belly. That was until Sherlock reached his long slender fingers around the thick length of Johns cock twisting and rubbing slick over the head.
"I want you. I want you." Sherlock panted as he stroked John and John stroked him. This time John was kind and with gentle steady pressure buried his cock into Sherlock's unimaginable heat.
"Fuck, oh god fuck yes Sherlock, Jesus." Sherlock rocked his hips to met John's thrust, grinding into John grabbing John's bottom, grabbing his own cock and pumping into his fist in sharp jerky movements.
"Fuck John, oh fuck, fuck, Christ oh my...oh my... goo...oh my goooood! Fuck me!"
Those words. John could no long hold back. The sight of his cock, slick and wet in and out of Sherlock's body, the thick white cum covering Sherlock's belly and between his fingers as he slowly ran his hand up and down and over the head of his cock still kicking his hips up to bring John's cock flush with his bottom. John came, so hard he thought bones would snap, so completely he felt his heart would stop, so blissfully he was undone. The power of Sherlock Holmes.
It was an hour before two sticky bodies with numb limbs started to move. John stayed resting on his back, the sheet pulled just to the top of a nest of dark golden curls. Sherlock propped on his side head resting in his right hand, his left on Johns chest, fingers cataloging his scar.
"I feel as though I have sufficiently told you all my secrets." The deep thunder of Sherlock's voice made into smooth molten honey. John smiled wickedly without opening his eyes.
"Sufficiently Love, would be selling yourself woefully short."