Yeah, yeah...it's been forever...I know...I'm sorry! DocWatson hasn't been so much on hiatus as he has been on sabbatical...RL has been a living insanity for me...new job, new hours...new co-workers...new...everything...and it all has happened so fast! But we're back for a bit, anyway...I will not make promises I know I can't keep, but I AM trying to make sure SOMETHING gets posted to this and my other stories AT LEAST once a week...if you don't hear from me, feel free to kick me in the butt with a nasty-gram...okay...maybe just a polite tweak on the cheek,,,either way...Doc and I have been struggling with this and the next chapter for a while, so be kind...hope you enjoy!
John and Sherlock barely made it across the lobby to the elevator before Sherlock had John pushed up against the wall. His mouth crushed into John's, pushing John's head roughly against the wall of the elevator car. John returned the kiss, his hands splayed across Sherlock's back. His senses were on fire. He felt the softness of Sherlock's lips and the smoothness of the gabardine fabric of the back of Sherlock's coat. He smelled the cologne that he hadn't realized Sherlock had worn for their evening together. He heard the small gasp from Sherlock as his hands pulled their lower bodies together. He tasted the heat and passion in Sherlock's mouth, echoed in his own. He opened his eyes and saw his beautiful Sherlock, flushed and glowing, his pupils blown wide but heavily lidded with all the emotion Sherlock never shared. John moved his hands from the back of the jacket Sherlock wore up into Sherlock's hair.
Sherlock's hands wandered John's body inside his suit jacket. His hands pulled the dress shirt from John's trousers and began unbuttoning the small pearlescent buttons on the shirt when the bell to elevator indicated their floor and they jumped apart.
Even being as turned on as he was, John had to giggle at their making out in an elevator like two horny teenagers. Sherlock seemed to understand the silliness and started to giggle as well. Luckily, there was nobody to notice their disheveled appearances. John grabbed Sherlock's hand and dragged him to one of the three doors on the floor. He slid the keycard into the slot and pushed the door open before he buried his hands back into Sherlock's curls and pulled him down into another hot, wet kiss.
John's tongue explored the edge of Sherlock's upper lip. He caught it lightly between his teeth and Sherlock whimpered. John released his lips and slid his hand to Sherlock's neck, pulling his mouth closer and angling his head for a deeper kiss. His tongue drove deep into Sherlock's mouth, showing him only a touch of what was to come. The groan that came from Sherlock only served to make John grow even harder than he ever thought possible. He could feel the tip of his cock pressing against the inside of his trousers, the banded edge of his pants suddenly feeling extremely tight as it pushed his erection into his stomach.
Still, he couldn't seem to get enough of Sherlock's kisses. John knew they were in danger of overheating and ending things all too soon, but he could not stop himself from ravaging the taller man's mouth. As soon as they cleared the entryway, Sherlock started pushing John's suit jacket off.
John tugged at the lapels of Sherlock's jacket as well. The jacket that he had consciously tried not to crush in the elevator was on the floor within seconds. John reached for the buttons on Sherlock's shirt and began pulling them through the holes, exposing his pale, alabaster skin. Once he had loosened all of the buttons, he brushed his fingers over Sherlock's chest and pushed the shirt open farther. He broke the kiss and watched his hands brush against Sherlock's chest. He rubbed a thumb over one nipple and Sherlock's knees almost gave out. John quickly wrapped an arm around Sherlock's waist, pulling him in tightly. The firmness and length of Sherlock's cock against his, even through their trousers had John very quickly retreating, lightly pushing Sherlock away.
Sherlock reached for him, but John sidled away, further into the suite, just out of Sherlock's reach.
"John?" Sherlock said in confusion.
John smiled reassuringly, but kept his distance from Sherlock for the moment.
"It's alright, love," he said quietly, "but we need to slow down."
"Slow down?" Sherlock asked incredulously, "I've waited nearly three years, John! Isn't that slow enough?"
John smiled broadly, happy to see Sherlock wanted him as much, if not more than he wanted Sherlock. Sherlock stepped closer to John and placed his hand on John's chest over his heart.
"Your heart rate is as elevated as mine," Sherlock said seriously, "Your erection is as obvious in your trousers as mine. Why should we take it slowly? We've only just reunited."
"A little more time is not a bad thing, Sherlock," John said, gently removing Sherlock's hand from his chest and bringing the fingers to his mouth, "I want to make our first night together magical. I want to make love to you, Sherlock, not fuck you like an animal."
Sherlock suddenly looked completely lost. He dropped his chin to his chest as a flush crept up his neck and cheeks once again. John wanted to celebrate the fact that he had once again confounded Sherlock for the second or possibly third time in one evening, but he tucked the knowledge away and remained serious. He understood Sherlock's confusion. What little experience Sherlock may have had with sex was most likely from pornographic films or watching the crack whore hookers on the streets of London. He had no understanding of what it meant to take time and enjoy a lover.
He stepped back into Sherlock's personal space and lifted his chin to look him in the eye. He couldn't resist touching his mouth to those gorgeous, intoxicating lips. He explored them tenderly, gently, until Sherlock tried to deepen the kiss. John pulled back, his fingers still caressing Sherlock's jaw.
"Do you know how much I love you?" John asked quietly.
Sherlock's eyes widened and then drifted shut. His mouth went slightly slack as he inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. When he opened his eyes, John saw the tell tale glassiness of unshed tears in Sherlock's stunning grey-green eyes.
"Do you know how long I've wanted to hear you say that, John? I don't know that I'll ever be used to hearing it."
Now it was John's turn to blink back tears. He leaned in again and crushed his lips into Sherlock's to hide his tears. Sherlock took advantage and pulled John tightly to him, one hand buried in John's short blond locks, the other wrapped around his back. John let him deepen the kiss, pouring all of his heart into it. He allowed the kiss to grow ardent again, but when he felt his passions straining at the edges of his control, he took command of the kiss by placing his hands on either side of Sherlock's face and slowly pulling away.
Sherlock continued to attempt to deepen the kiss, but John was able to sever the connection between their mouths and step back slightly. He understood the need. Hell, he was the need from head to toe at that moment. But his military-minded brain would not relinquish his hold on him.
"Sher-Sherlock," he said, breathing heavily, "Let's sit."
He grabbed Sherlock's hand and pulled him to the couch. As soon as they sat, Sherlock tried to kiss him again, but John put a hand firmly in the middle of Sherlock's chest and held him back. The heat of Sherlock's flushed skin almost made him lose his resolve to make the night last, but he took a deep breath and continued.
"No, Sher," he growled, "We need to talk about this, first."
"Why?" Sherlock said, nearly whinging.
"Because, Sherlock," John said roughly, "of the two of us, I have more experience in these matters than you do!"
"But John," Sherlock said, "I said I knew-"
"I am pretty sure I know what you think you know, Sherlock," John said, trying to keep a straight face. He was pretty sure that Sherlock's knowledge of sex was another one of those things he had probably deleted, like the knowledge of the solar system. He didn't think it would be appropriate to bring that up at the moment, "Look," John continued, "if you want me as much as I want you and if you love me half as much as I love you, please trust me on this."
"I do love you, John!"
Everything about John froze. He had known Sherlock loved him by the way he had acted, by the things he had written, but he had never said the words. His heart swelled and only gave him more resolve to take the night slow. He had known, sure, but now he knew. He took a deep breath.
"Thank you," he said as he exhaled. He watched the confusion grow on Sherlock's face again and he wanted to laugh. The bubble of laughter escaped in the version of a small giggle.
"Why are you giggling?" Sherlock asked, suddenly very upset.
"Sherlock, love," John said with a smile, the giggle continuing. He grabbed Sherlock's face again with both hands, "You have got be the most infuriating," he leaned and kissed Sherlock's left eye, "stubborn," right eye, "willful," left cheek, "beautiful," right cheek, "fantastic," nose, "adorable man, I've ever known," he finished by kissing Sherlock full on the lips, keeping his mouth firmly closed and not letting Sherlock deepen the kiss in any way. When he pulled back, John finished by saying, "and I love you, too."
Sherlock continued to look at him in confusion. John just kept quiet and grinned at him as he watched the cogs of Sherlock's mind start to function. He saw the moment when Sherlock realized what had brought all of that on. He saw the second when Sherlock processed it all and felt that slight embarrassment at having failed John at something.
"And don't you dare say you're sorry," John said in mock seriousness, his hands dropping from Sherlock's face, "because I wouldn't have it any other way."
Sherlock looked him straight in the eye, the seriousness of his apology there, but as they stared at each other, Sherlock began to see the humor and began to giggle himself. John smile widened and Sherlock returned the smile, his giggle turning into laughter. They sat and laughed for a few seconds, John enjoying the laugh he had told his readers about, Sherlock's real laugh that showed his enjoyment in the person he was with and the situation at hand. As the laughter slowed and died out, he saw Sherlock's focus change back to John's mouth. John obliged and leaned in for another kiss, his hands sliding back over his face and into his hair.
He pressed Sherlock back against the couch until he was lying over the top of him. Sherlock's hands wrapped around John again, holding him tightly. The brief interlude had not done much to calm either of their erections, John discovered, though he knew he was now more solidly resolved to take it slow with Sherlock. He rocked his lower half against Sherlock's and the friction was delicious. He wasn't sure which of them groaned louder at the contact. He deepened the kiss, brushing his tongue against Sherlock's lower lip. Sherlock automatically opened his mouth and sighed as John's tongue invaded.
Sherlock's hands continued to wander John's back and sides. As his hands slid farther down to John's backside, John thrust himself against Sherlock again as Sherlock wrapped fingers around John's ass. Sherlock moaned again at the contact and pulled John even closer. Sherlock spread his legs and John slid in between them. He rutted up against Sherlock's body, and John again saw the humor in the position and another giggle escaped as he continued kissing Sherlock.
It was Sherlock's turn to freeze. He stopped returning John's kisses. John pulled back to look at him with a bemused smile on his face. He knew what Sherlock's issue was, but still he couldn't ignore the humor he saw in their positions.
"I'd normally say I'm sorry for giggling, Sher," he said, "but I never expected to be in this position…at my age…with a man."
Sherlock continued to stare. John felt slightly chagrined at the fact that he honestly didn't understand why John thought the way he did.
"Sherlock, look," he said, leaning back on his haunches. He thought he heard a whimper from Sherlock as his body lost contact with John's. He slid his hands up Sherlock's legs and stopped with his thumbs just barely brushing the stiffened cock under the dress pants. Sherlock's groan at the contact made John completely forget what he was about to say. He moved his hands to unbuckle Sherlock's belt and unzip his trousers.
"You have far too many clothes on, Sherlock," he growled as he slid the zipper down, the back of his hand pressed into the material a little harder than before as he gauged how hard Sherlock's shaft had grown. He grabbed the trousers and pulled them down. The navy boxer briefs he wore barely contained his hardness against his hip, but barely. He still wore the purple silk shirt that he'd worn at dinner, but it was open, completely unbuttoned and framing his thin, alabaster torso. As John's eyes traced up his body to his face, his hands traced back up Sherlock's thighs, massaging the tense muscles there. He took in Sherlock's tousled hair, more unkempt than normal, thanks to John's hands. His lips, normally plump and pink were red and swollen, thanks to John's kisses. When his eyes met Sherlock's, John's heart skipped a beat, the lust, the love, the complete trust blew him away.
"Do you know how beautiful you are, Sherlock?" John said without thinking.
Sherlock laughed at that and it was John's turn to blush.
"It's just—I meant—Well, I—" he stammered before he finally shut his mouth and stopped talking.
"Thank you," Sherlock said through a chuckle.
John grinned at him, his hands still moving, still caressing Sherlock's member through the cotton of his briefs.
"John," Sherlock croaked, "I'm going to—oh, god!"
John gave Sherlock a crooked smile as he watched him come undone under his hands with just his gentle caress. He saw the moment Sherlock came back to Earth and leaned over to kiss him once again, gently and lovingly this time.
Suddenly, Sherlock turned back into the aggressor. With a strength John didn't know he had, Sherlock flipped John off the couch and onto the floor. John's back hit the soft carpet and Sherlock ended up more around him than on top of him. John wasn't sure how he had done it, but Sherlock's knees had ended up on either side of his hips and his arms were braced on either side of his head. His mouth covered the pulse point in John's neck and his deflating erection pressed into John's still hard cock. John couldn't help but groan at every sensation Sherlock was eliciting with every minute touch.
Sherlock's mouth moved down his body to his clavicle and then to the star-shaped scar on his shoulder. John's body tensed as Sherlock paid particular attention to the edges and crevasses that the bullet had created in its wake of destruction. His hands found Sherlock's curls as he placed open mouthed kisses to the old wound.
When Sherlock moved his attention to the nipple below the scar, John's cock tightened almost painfully. He laved at the hardening nub, licking and nipping at it. The awareness grew more intense as Sherlock's hand brushed over his body. His fingers brushed the other nipple and then gently flicked it. John couldn't contain the moan of absolute pleasure as Sherlock hummed his approval at John's reaction.
He continued his descent with hand and mouth, his lips trailing a wet path to John's navel. John had always been slightly ticklish, but Sherlock's touch was strong enough to warrant something other than a feeling of a tickle. His hand was joined by the other as Sherlock worked at getting John's trousers off. He felt his trousers loosen and Sherlock's hands deftly pull them over his hips and past his knees in one fell swoop. He looked down his body at Sherlock when Sherlock started to chuckle again. Sherlock looked up at him with a grin and John cocked his head at him in confusion.
"What?" he asked?
"Red?" Sherlock questions with a smirk.
"Oh," John said with a cheeky grin, "You mentioned once that you liked red."
"Oh," Sherlock said, his voice dropping to a growl, "indeed, I do."
He dropped his head and nuzzled his nose against John's shaft, still covered in the red boxer-briefs. John whimpered as Sherlock hummed, his nose vibrating against his already too-stiff cock.
"God, Sherlock!" he moaned aloud.
"Leave him out of this," Sherlock murmured against his thigh, barely loud enough for John to hear, "this is all you and me."
Sherlock's forefingers slid under the band of John's pants and tugged them down, exposing John's throbbing cock. John sucked in a deep breath as he looked down his body at Sherlock. Sherlock was contemplating his cock like it was a new and exciting puzzle for him to deduce. He was about to say something, tell Sherlock to stop when Sherlock boldly licked a wet stripe up the underside of his shaft. John couldn't contain the hiss of pleasure.
When Sherlock's lips enclosed his head, he heard himself whimper. When a hand joined his mouth, John let his head fall back to the floor, unable to watch as the sensations overwhelmed him.
Sherlock's mouth slowly descended his shaft, covering him completely. His fingers gently squeezed at the base, two fingers sliding along the crease between his balls. His tongue wrapped around the shaft and John knew he was not going to last long if he kept up the pace.
"Sherlock," he gasped out, "you need- we need to-"
Sherlock lifted his head from his cock and John almost cried out at the loss of the wet warmth.
"No, John," he growled, "I do not. I have wanted to do this to you for so long…It is the one thing I know I can do and do well…So shut up and enjoy it!"
John grinned as he closed his eyes again and let Sherlock take him back into his mouth.
Sherlock provided a little suction on his cock and John groaned again.
"Yes," he moaned, "keep doing that…but I'm not going to last long!"
Sherlock hummed around his cock in approval and slid his mouth up and down a couple more times. John felt the twinge he always felt when he was about to come. Before he could warn Sherlock, Sherlock took him deep down his throat. John instinctively thrust into the surrounding heat and came. Sherlock continued to lick and suck at him, swallowing all that John gave him. As he started to come down off his plateau, John felt the lethargy that always immediately followed his orgasms.
Sherlock pulled his mouth from John and daintily wiped his fingers at the corners of his mouth before he leaned in an d kissed John again.
"Well, my love," John said sleepily, "you buggered that one."
"What do you mean?" Sherlock said, disappointment growing in his eyes.
"Ah," John said, feeling his body shutting down, "you did that so well…But Sherlock, I haven't slept but maybe three hours since seven a.m. London time. I am about to fall asleep on you, my love."
Sherlock smiled tenderly as he bent down and hauled John to his feet.
"Then we best get you into bed, My John," he said, "before you fall asleep on this very uncomfortable floor."
John was nearly asleep on his feet, but smiled cheekily at Sherlock before he said, "But it was such a nice floor. Very accommodating in letting you suck me off."
Sherlock chuckled as he picked John up and carried him to their king-sized bed. He laid John down gently and pulled the sheet and coverlet over him. John's eyes drifted open.
"You're not coming to bed?" he asked sadly.
"I will be right there," Sherlock said, "I'm going to go get cleaned up first."
"Oh…"John started to say, but drifted back into sleep again before he could finish.
Sherlock watched his John sleep for a few moments before he went and jumped into the shower. When he got out, there was some investigating to be done. Sleep was for those who needed it.
You know the routine...we know you do...Read and Review...and honestly...if you want more, we need to know! Reviews are love to My John!