I would like to say a huge apology to all those of you who had been waiting for me to update and finish this story. Life as usual got in the way and when I came back to it I had no idea how to end it. But I have done it! The story is over (for now at least) and those of you who have been waiting at smut station will hopefully be pleased by the contents of this final chapter.
As usual any mistakes I make are mine and mine alone as I have no beta and all rights go to the BBC for the characters etc...because if I owned them...they would be doing naughty, fluffy things on TV.
And that is how John and Sherlock end up sat in one of their favourite restaurants (or at least the one he had taken John to when they had met for the first time). John smiles faintly at the memory, Sherlock turning him down even though John had only asked out of curiosity…how things have changed. However their current situation is remarkably difficult, not because of the newly declared feelings between the two best friends but rather because of the awkward silence that has descended over their table.
John for the life of him cannot understand what the cause of the silence is. They had confessed their feelings and shared a kiss, which John believes, despite his lack of experience with other men, to be nothing other than perfect and yet there is silence. And it's not the kind of silence where John would be talking to Sherlock who would be essentially ignoring him but the awkward kind of silence that made his stomach churn.
He stares at the curls on Sherlock's head, hoping to hear that deep, rumbly voice or to suddenly develop telepathy. Anything. Anything at all, to fill the silence, because he sure as hell, had no idea what to say.
Sherlock catches occasional glances at his…lover? They hadn't actually gone that far yet. Friend? Far too basic a word… boyfriend…made him feel nauseous. He had been hoping for cues from John, or for him to take the lead. All the factors are in place…there is even a wretched candle on the table from the rather enthusiastic owner and yet it didn't feel right. Sherlock for once in his life had no idea of what to do.
John is feeling like an absolute plonker. Sherlock is as rigid as a board, eyes fixed on his face watching carefully. He's nervous.
"Sherlock?"
"Yes, John?" He answers almost automatically, his eyes dart around the restaurant and the fork between his fingers twirls impatiently.
"How about we get our dinner to go?" he suggests leaning forward with his chin on one hand.
The relief that floods Sherlock's face is painfully evident.
"Excellent idea, John." He praises and snaps his fingers to grab the waiter's attention.
They leave the building, food in bags and start the walk back to the apartment.
It's Sherlock who breaks the silence first.
"Although my experience of such outings is obviously non-existent, I have to admit that was socially awkward even by my standards." Sherlock states with a wry smile causing John to let out a huff of laughter in agreement.
"Let's…never do that again. Alright?" John says and Sherlock nods but of course refuses to not understand all of the variables.
"Agreed. So what exactly was the cause of your awkwardness John?"
John flounders mentally at the statement.
"I… honestly? I have no idea what I'm doing either! I made it seem like going on a date was the next step, the normal progression but…well we've never really gone by the rulebook have we?" he grins up at his tall companion.
His statement earns a small quirk of the lips and he takes it as encouragement to go on.
"I have no idea how I am supposed to act around you. Do I flirt? Flatter? Seduce?" he questions almost forgetting that Sherlock was listening until he saw an eyebrow shoot rapidly up to the word 'seduce'.
"You're…You."
"I apologise." Sherlock interrupts dryly.
John lets out a huff of exasperation although he is unsure of its intended direction.
"I just mean…you are this utterly unique and amazing person. I felt blessed just being able to call you my friend…and since it was your first date I thought it should be special. And I failed spectacularly" he trails off, his face displaying how much the thought upsets him.
Sherlock watches him for a few seconds before swooping down and planting a kiss on John's soft lips, who looks at him with an expression caught between confusion and lust.
"It's curious how I feel exactly the same about you." He tells him, watching with pleasure as John's face begins to flush and he splutters slightly.
"I…ahem…right. Thanks. So what should we do? Maybe we should just do as we always do and see where it goes?" he suggests as they reach the door to their flat.
"Indeed, a natural observation."
They clamber their way up the stairs and John takes the bags to plate up the food.
"Alright then…how about we eat this and watch some telly? You can shout at it and I'll sit there pretending not to be amused." John says smiling, failing to stop the excited bounce of his heels as he makes his way to the kitchen.
Sherlock nods, unable to stop himself from smiling at his enthusiasm and plonks himself down on the sofa.
John brings the plates back handing one to him, looks at their armchairs and then back to where Sherlock has decided to sit and smiles.
He sits down, close to Sherlock, legs touching from knee to hip, trying in vain to ignore the heat from the other man and eat his food.
They eat in silence which is occasionally broken by a click of Sherlock's annoyed tongue or a short comment about the ridiculousness of the plotline. Once they have finished Sherlock turns his head slightly towards John and speaks, his breath warm on John's face.
"Do couples usually cuddle at his point?" John valiantly ignores the way his heart thumps at the word 'couples'. His mind flashes back to the heated conversation with Irene Adler and he thinks about how right she had been. He tilts his head and answers carefully.
"Depends, do you want to?"
"I find myself intrigued by the notion."
John tentatively takes Sherlock's hand, interlacing their fingers. Usually he would put his arm around whatever girl he was with and allow them to rest on his chest but that didn't feel right.
"This alright?" he asks tentatively squeezing his fingers.
Sherlock simply nods, his attention caught by where their hands are connected.
"Strange but not unpleasant" he states categorising the sensation of their skin touching.
"How long to we do this for?" He asks, wanting to collate as much data as possible since he would be using it in future.
John smiles warmly "As long as you want to".
Sherlock removes hand and John feels his stomach drop in disappointment only to find his palm being turned over and have Sherlock's slide his over the top. He had a feeling that most of their future interactions would involve Sherlock trying to take charge…
"It makes more sense since my hand is bigger." Sherlock states at John's bemused eyebrow.
He can't resist the urge to refute him despite the fact the Sherlock is always right. He probably knows the exact measurements… he thinks.
"No they aren't its just your stupidly long fingers…" he argues, half teasing half determined not to be smaller in every department…get your mind out of the gutter, John…
He grabs Sherlock's palms and pushes them together. Sherlock's fingers are long and refined. Powerful hands covered in pale and clean skin. It reminded him of marble.
John's hands are strong; his palms are sturdy and thick. His fingers are shorter than Sherlock's but no less elegant despite their blunt tips
"Your fingers are rather refined" Sherlock comments taking John's hand in between his own, dwarfing it and pulling it close to his face.
"I am a doctor." John murmurs his focus almost completely on the heat from Sherlock's hands and the scrutiny of that piercing blue gaze.
"Hmm..." Sherlock hums noncommittally and continues to study his hand observing everything he can. As natural to him as taking a breath.
He notices the faint writing lump on John's ring finger on his left hand from where he rests his pen. The faint scars above his thumb, no doubt from when he was first learning to use a gun. His grip would have been just a little too high, catching the skin as he pulled the trigger. He could analyse for hours, cataloguing his own private mind palace devoted entirely to John.
It was John's voice that broke him out of his reverie, low and faintly embarrassed.
"Not going to have any secrets left, if you keep staring at my hand like that."
Sherlock's locks his gaze onto John's.
"Problem?"
"No…no" John replies a little too quickly, his pupils are dilated and his breathing is a little quick. Arousal.
"I just hope you're not going to study the rest of me like that." He laughs slightly before clearing his throat as if just realising the implications of what he has said.
Sherlock shifts a little closer; pleasantly pleased by the physical reactions he is provoking.
"And what if I intend to do just that?" he asks, his voice a low, sultry rumble in his chest. He is stepping into territory that neither of them had yet dared enter. He had used to belittle the physicality and chemical impulses that feelings like attraction and love inflicted upon a person. However now he finds it is more intoxicating than any drug he has ever taken. An addiction that one drunken kiss has left him craving.
John swallows, his dry throat clicks audibly, his palms sweat and his jeans become just a little uncomfortable.
He shifts in his seat and lets his eyes dart around the room, letting out a nervous chuckle in an attempt to break the atmosphere.
"I…err really? I wouldn't want to disappoint, I'm no statue of David…"
Sherlock watches John, the uncomfortable set of his shoulders, the way he absently rubs at his shoulder and cannot fathom his reasoning.
"Fascinating…you've had many girlfriends John. I've never seen you lack confidence when you were with them" he comments.
"Yes…well. You are…" John sticks a hand out and waves it up and down Sherlock's body as if words were not enough to encompass everything he had to say.
Sherlock gives John a fond if slightly exasperated look.
"That doesn't really count as an answer, John."
"Well it's as much of one as you are getting" John says, crossing his arms looking rather miffed, although strangely enough more at himself than at Sherlock.
Sherlock takes a moment to ponder and then it clicks…
"You're doing the face. You know I hate the face" John tells him in an irritated voice, Sherlock resists the urge to comment on the way John is practically pouting.
"I would have thought from the kiss that you would have realised how much you arouse me." Sherlock states calmly moving slowly on the sofa towards John. He is on all fours, every move calculated and predatory.
John, ironically, is doing a marvellous impression of a deer caught in headlights.
"What? I… that wasn't…What are you doing?" he asks stuttering when he finds himself somehow pressed against the corner of the sofa with a determined Sherlock looming over him.
"Seducing you…" Sherlock informs him before crushing his lips against John's in way he has been wanting to for so long. John responds fervently tilting his head back and pushing his hands through curly locks to angle his head better. Their tongues move eagerly against one another's, hot breathy caresses that rip low groans from John and a veritable growl from Sherlock. John pushes a hand under Sherlock's shirt, revelling in the hard muscle he finds and the very fact that he is allowed to do this.
He pulls away and locks his eyes onto Sherlock's face which is looking thoroughly wanton. Curls everywhere, lips red and swollen and eyes dark with want.
"Bed" he orders causing Sherlock to smile broadly and take his hand as he leads the way upstairs. He can feel his heart thudding in his chest and they barely make it up the stairs before John is slamming Sherlock into the door of his room. John kisses him thoroughly before sucking and biting eagerly at the thick expanse of his long, pale neck ripping small gasps from the taller man.
Sherlock manages to get the door open despite John's distraction and pulls him inside. He all but rips his shirt off his back and moves in to kiss John again who has become rather preoccupied with the sight of a shirtless Sherlock.
The kiss has become almost desperate hands roaming all of each other. John's jumper and shirt is practically ripped off him and Sherlock immediately moves to kiss John's scar, his lips moving almost reverently over the marred skin. The act rips a broken gasp from John who takes his face between his hands and kisses him desperately.
They fall on the bed shamelessly rutting and grinding against each other, all former embarrassment and anxiety forgotten. John quickly divests Sherlock of his trousers and underwear; grasping firmly at his cock making his hips drive forward helplessly.
Sherlock props himself over John, elbows bracketing on either side of his face, hips thrusting into the tightness of his palm, placing wet open kisses over John's body.
The swell of pleasure is devastatingly overwhelming and he growls and pulls John's hand away, holding both hands above his hand, not wanting to find his release quite so soon. John gasps in shock, the muscles of his upper body flexing and contracting as he tries to catch his breath and move against his tight grip.
Sherlock lowers his head and catches a nipple between his teeth sucking and grazing the sensitive skin making John buck and grind his hips. He pushes his hands that are holding John firmly down before releasing them, a silent message for them to stay where they are as he makes his way down his body.
He kisses his way down John's torso, biting and sucking the skin he finds, ripping sounds from John's throat he had never imagined he could make. He makes quick work of his trousers and underwear and stares at the sight before him. His hair is darker here but still blonde, he is just bigger than average, not quite Sherlock's length but with a bigger girth It is thick and looked painfully hard making his own member twitch in sympathy.
John's voice is completely wrecked when he speaks "Sherlock…you remember what I said about the studying…".
Sherlock flickers his eyes up to him and takes in his muscular, tanned skin against pale sheets. His mussed blonde hair, hands gripping tightly at the pillow under his head and the minute twitches of his hips. To Sherlock he has never seen a more beautiful sight. The instinct to take, possess and make John writhe with pleasure is overwhelming.
"Perfectly. As I am sure you remember my reply…" he rumbles before pushing his lips over John's cock and sucking him down. John lets out a muffled shout, his face turned into the pillow, thrusting shallowly into his mouth. He pulls back letting his tongue trace the underside of the vein and tastes the beads of precum gathering at the head. He had thought he would have found the taste unpleasant but the sounds John is making make him eagerly swallow him up again. His cheeks are hollowed as he sucks, letting his tongue lap and swirl at the end whilst clever fingers caressing his balls and pressing against the puckered skin he finds when he moves his hand lower.
He feels, more than hears the gasp that John sucks in and it is enough to make Sherlock lift his head.
"You…do you want…?" John sputters out, overwhelmed not only by the sensations but the idea that he is willing to do what had never entered his mind before.
"Only if you do" Sherlock replies honestly. John flushes sitting up fishing around the draw, pushing the tube into his hand before flopping back down.
"I've never…" he starts biting his lip to stop himself from finishing the sentence.
Sherlock moves up the bed kissing him soundly and presses the full length of his naked body onto John's letting his hands roam over his back. He lets his hands wander down further, cupping and squeezing his firm cheeks ripping a moan from Sherlock.
"You sure?" he asks willing to trade places if John is uncertain. Their noses are touching, breathes are mingling and John lets one hand trace the contours of his face in a gesture that could only be described as loving. The other hand slaps his arse sharply and teeth nip gently at his bottom lip. The pain that flares in arse sends tingles up his spine and makes him grind his cock against John's.
"Get on with it" he orders, grinning. Sherlock smirks and flips John over whispering hotly in his ear.
"Yes, Sir…".
He makes his way down his back, sucking on the knobs of his spine and when he reaches the base of John's arse he takes a moment to admire the sight.
"Oi…"
Sherlock chuckles and wasting no time he pulls the cheeks apart letting his tongue tracing the sensitive skin between them.
John bucks and moans into his pillow, he had never tried this with anyone before, the feeling of being so exposed is terrifying and arousing simultaneously. He pushes back into Sherlock's clever tongue revelling in the feeling of flat swipes and wet intrusions. Suddenly he feels the slick, cool breach of a finger and tenses slightly at the foreign feeling.
Sensing his discomfort Sherlock winds a hand underneath him and strokes at his member causing a clash of pleasure and pain. A second finger is added pumping in and out steadily of his unused hole. The burn and stretch an uncomfortable but not unpleasant feeling. John feels the pain dwindle into something akin to pleasure as Sherlock keeps brushing against something that makes him groan low into his pillow and push his hips back.
"Sherlock…" he says a little ashamed of the need that colours his voice.
Sherlock's patience finally snaps at hearing the quiet, desperate utterance of his name. He slicks himself up and locks eyes with John who has his head turned over his shoulder.
"Condom?"
"I'm clean" he says watching John nod, his eyes flickering nervously towards the hand that is still on his cock, slippery and dripping with lube.
"Me too".
John turns onto his back and reaches out to pull Sherlock onto him, his smile wide and happy. Sherlock grasps his hips and lifts him up off the bed before pressing in slowly but steadily. John gasps up into Sherlock's mouth at the intrusion, feeling the intense heat and stretch to accommodate him. There is no way he is going to fit…
He keeps kissing him and breathing shakily before their hips finally meet in a sweet press. John has never felt so connected with another person before. Sherlock's piercing gaze never leaves his face as he begins to push shallow thrusts into him. He pushes his hips up, that are still in Sherlock's strong grip, and moans loudly as pain evolves into pleasure.
Sherlock stills "Are you alright?" he asks worried he may have moved too soon but John just shakes his head and grabs his arse to push him deeper.
"More" he gasps in a broken demand.
Sherlock shudders at the tightness and heat around his cock and thrusts deep into John. Both their moans become increasingly loud and their bodies move frantically. Sherlock's thrusts no longer slow slam into him, driving into John who meets him with just as much need and power. Hips snapping and grinding together and with a final deep thrust John cries out coming between their bodies, painting their stomachs and chests. The way John clamps around Sherlock leaves him helpless to the intensity of the pleasure, spilling himself into John muffling his cry against his lips.
He collapses onto the sweat slicked body beneath him and finds that for once in his life, he is unable to navigate the pleasure-filled fog in his mind and create a coherent thought. A hand absently caresses through his hair travelling down the length of his spine and he feels completely at peace.
Eventually he has enough strength to prop himself up and look at John. John smiles up at him; eyes watering slightly, as his hands never stop touching his skin.
"What is it?" Sherlock questions a sickening feeling churning his stomach.
John huffs scrubbing at his eyes looking decidedly annoyed at the tears on his face.
"I just can't believe you're here…I spent so long hoping you would come back and I never thought you would. And now here you are…not just alive but with me. And…I can't lose you again" he whispers fiercely, his teeth gritted and the hand in his hair gripping just shy of uncomfortable.
Sherlock felt his throat tighten and he swallows heavily.
"You won't." he promises unable to voice how much it would break him if he lost John. How he would feel if the positions had been reversed. Love he realises is both a blessing and a curse. He silently vows to do everything in his power to prevent John from experiencing the pain that love can bring for a second time.
He presses his forehead against John's feeling dampness on his face unsure if it was his or John's. He presses a gentle kiss to his lips and whispers against their softness.
"You won't. I'm afraid you are stuck with me" he adds in mock horror.
John smiles through his tears, looking so completely beautiful, he is thoroughly kissed again.
"Good." He smiles letting his hands trail lightly over Sherlock's backside, causing shudders in the taller man.
"Once I've recovered I'm going to show you the wonders of prostate stimulation" he promises sleepily affirming it with a squeeze of his cheeks and a slap.
"I have no doubt in your skills, Doctor Watson". He chuckles nuzzling into his neck and murmuring a soft phrase that John is almost sure he had imagined it.
"What?"
Sherlock lifts his head looking flushed and decidedly annoyed.
"I said…I love you" he almost snaps, evidently embarrassed at having to repeat the words. John laughs ecstatic at hearing the words for the first time and tackles him ignoring twinge low in his body, manoeuvring him into a spooning position mouthing at his neck.
"Haha...wasn't so hard was it?" he teases, tightening his arm around Sherlock's waist.
"John…" Sherlock says with a voice that promised retribution if he continued to tease him.
So instead he smiles into the base of Sherlock's neck and mouths the words quietly back.
"I love you too".
Sherlock's hand entwines with his own in answer and he presses himself back firmly into John. The presence of Sherlock's warm body promises to keep his nightmares at bay as he begins to drift off and the steady beat of his heart against his chest, proof that he is alive and that he will never have to lose him like that again if he can prevent it.
The Waiting game is over. Sherlock is home.
*SOBS* So that's it! My muses returned for one last bout of Johnlock before leaving me malnourished and sleep deprived! I hope you have enjoyed reading this as much as I have writing it! Please leave a review, let me know what you think!
And also, one final note, I have a couple of new story ideas in lots of different fandoms so I'm going to put up a new poll on my profile and would be ecstatic if you could vote on the one you would want to read! Thank you so much for sticking with me and for all your lovely comments! :)