Oh! What is this? A new chapter to a Johnlock fanfiction that is supposedly 'complete'? You must be so confused!
Here, allow me to explain my fellow Sherlockians: I just couldn't stay away! So I have created yet another Johnlock chapter just for you guys (okay maybe a tad bit for myself as well *wink wink). So please enjoy!
John could hear the spattering of the shower coming from behind the closed bathroom door and longed to just go in without knocking, passionately strip off all of the dress clothes that Ms. Hudson had pressed for him that morning, and slide in behind the tall man whom had recently become his lover. He wanted to just slip in and wrap his arms around that naked body he had learned so much about in the past three weeks that he had been dating Sherlock, but he was already running late for work.
With a gentle sigh John clicked the door open and stuck his head between the gap and saw Sherlock's tall figure y he had learned tstuck his head between the gap and saw learned to much about in the past three weeks that he hadmoving slowly behind the foggy glass-door as he washed his hair. He stood there for a moment before saying softly, "Sherlock, love?" and watched as the thin man slid the door open just far enough to keep most of the water in.
"John." He deeply voiced and gave one of his small half smiles. The black curls that covered his head were slicked down and plastered to his face, small droplets of water slipping from them and plopping to the brown tiles below. He was very close to the door which allowed John to see clearly his entire body.
Blushing, John smiled and said, "I'm going to head off to work."
Sherlock squinted one of his eyes as a water droplet got into it and brought a hand up to push his hair out of his face to no avail because it just flopped back into place which got a chuckle out of John, "Okay dear. Have a good day-I will see you later."
"I love you."
"Yup."
With one last smile John shut the door and began wondering when Sherlock was going to actually let up on the whole 'I love you, but I won't say it' routine. With a shrug he closed the front door and hailed a taxi.
Sherlock squirted some shampoo onto his hand and began scrubbing his body. He couldn't help but think about the subject he had brought up at dinner last night-well more like John's dinner; Sherlock himself hadn't eaten anything in a week. He had begun questioning why the hell doctors didn't make any type of house calls. They had actually gotten into such a debate that Sherlock had gotten so upset that he had ran off and smoked an entire pack of cigarettes, then of course he had come home and John had been heartbroken that Sherlock had broken his promise to never smoke again. The consulting detective had insisted that making house calls would increase profits substantially, but John insisted that it was a waste of time. It was a rubbish conversation, but of course they had fought over it.
Sherlock finished rinsing his hair and turned the shower off. He had no idea what he was going to do that day due to the fact that there weren't any interesting cases for him to take on, and he didn't feel like calling Greg to bother him. He stepped out of the shower and onto the black mat and ruffled his hair with the towel that John set out for him before he had gotten dressed.
He wrapped the towel around his waist tightly and shuffled out the door and into the kitchen where he opened the fridge to look for something to do. The chilly air rushed out and hit his bare chest, causing his nipples to harden and forcing a sharp exhale of breath. Sherlock bent down, grabbed the jar of human eye balls, strode across the chilly linoleum floor and popped the container into the microwave for ten minutes. The glass plate spun around and around as the thick eye goo began to pop and bubble.
A deep chuckle escaped the nearly naked man's throat when he became fully naked-the plush tave one of his small half smiles. THe h to keep most of the a moment before saying softly, "
say it rutine. won'actually let up on the whole ' got into it and brought a hand up to push his hair out of his faceng from owel slid off of his thin waist, caught momentarily on the tip of his penis, then plopped to the ground. Why the hell had he put on a towel anyway? No one was around to see him flaunting his nudity other than Ms. Hudson and he didn't really care what she saw. John wasn't even around to see him-he was never around- because he was always at the surgery. And that was when Sherlock decided what he was going to do that day: pay John Watson a visit at work.
The tall man dashed off down the hall to his bedroom in search of his usual clothes, his lengthy genitals flopping around like mad, and forgotten eyeballs in the microwave.
John was sitting at his desk, knuckles pressed against the bone of his temple, elbow shoved into the leather of his armrest, and his eyes shut. It was a slow day at St. Bart's and John Watson had fallen asleep at his desk. A sudden rap on his door was what woke him from his light sleep and he let out a small groan, "Yes?"
"Dr. Watson, Mr. Holmes is here to see you." The secretary opened the door slightly and called in, she then noticed that she must have either startled him or woke him up from the annoyed look on his face, "I'm sorry if I interrupted anything."
"It's fine Lily, I was just snoozing. Which Holmes brother is it now?" Neither really visited him at work, if they did it was few and far between. With a small smile she opened the door to reveal a brooding dark shadow encased in a cloak looming behind her knowing that was all John needed to know. "Thank you love." She nodded and turned, stopping briefly to look up at Sherlock then walked away with her high heels clicking.
Once the door was shut behind the visitor John stretched and thumped his feet up on his desk, "She fancies you." He looked up under heavy eyelids at Sherlock who was stripping off his coat to reveal that he had put on a dress coat that rested over a white dress shirt, then he came around to John's side of the desk and perched next to John's chair and rested his hand on his partner's ankle.
"I know." Unconsciously he gently began rubbing his hand up and down the grey slacks on which it rested then began thinking about how it had been a while since John and himself had shagged, "Hey John," Sherlock looked down at his hand as a devious thought crossed his mind, "when is your next appointment?"
The sandy-blonde man grunted as he leaned forward to grab his black daily planner off of his desk and plopped back as his looked at his daily agenda. "At five." He tossed the book back onto the desk lopsidedly and crossed his lab-coat-sleeve-covered arms, "Why what's up?" He must have been baffled as to what his visitor was doing: asking him when his appointments were, paying him a visit, and rubbing his leg seductively (which was turning him on).
"So that gives us plenty of time." A devilish smile crossed that high-cheek-boned face that John loved.
"For…" John felt his penis growing harder as he realized just what Sherlock was doing and wasn't really caught off guard when the tall man did what he did next: Sherlock placed both hands on the arms rests, swung his legs in between John's and spread them so that they were on either side of his waist, rested his arse on the desk's edge, and pulling the chair forward so that he could reach the tan man's face.
John stretched slightly and grabbed the sides of Sherlock's face and smashed his lips against the other man's. Sherlock slowly ran his tongue over the top of John's lip, causing a shiver to go through the other man's body, causing Sherlock to force his tongue in all the way and seemingly battle for dominance with John. Sherlock took his hand off of the armrest and rested it over John's crotch and gave a squeeze- causing a moan to escape John's throat. Suddenly the seated man froze and pushed back.
"The receptionist." They were both panting and Sherlock had a confused look on his face.
"What about her?" He gasped and reluctantly slid his hand over to John's thigh, not wanting to take his hand off of his fully erect penis.
"She could walk in at any moment; she has a bad habit of not knocking." He whispered and slid his legs off of the desk and onto the floor.
With a grunt Sherlock rose, took a deep breath and headed over to the door. He stuck his head out calmly said, "Lily? John and I need to not be interrupted. No, not under any circumstance. Yes I know when his next appointment is. Thank you." He shut the door and locked it, then turned back to the panting Watson. "Now then, where were we?"
"God you are one sexy man," John grunted and began undoing his belt when Sherlock stopped him.
"Let me." He repositioned himself on the desk, then reached forward where his fingers rested lightly on the hem of John's shirt that he pushed up slowly, his fingers just barley skimming the surface of John's skin. John arched his back as the other man slowly began to undo his belt. He undid the strap of leather and looked up at John who was panting with lust as he watched the other man unbutton his pants in order to get to the blue hemmed boxers underneath.
Sherlock looked up into John's eyes as he unzipped his bants s he unzipped John's pants and revealed bulging black boxers and gave a sly smile right before he slid his hand through the small flap in the front and grabbed ahold of John's pulsing penis. In automatic response John gasped and tilted his head to the side, biting his lip and grabbing ahold of the arm rests tightly.
"Fuck, Sherlock!" He moaned as quietly as he could once Sherlock had slipped the other man's dick out of his pants and just barley into his mouth, and began running the tip of his tongue in quick strokes over the his opening that was now dripping with salty pre-come.
Sherlock gripped John's thighs as he started to take the length of John until his lips made contact with the base of his shaft, and began the work of giving John what he had come here to give him.
John threw his head back as Sherlock's tongue slowly circled his glans and paused at the opening of his urethra to lick away the pre-come that was rapidly oozing out. As he grew dangerously close to the edge, he couldn't help but move his hips to the rhythm that Sherlock had set as he took the length of John in and out of his mouth.
Sherlock knew that John was close to coming by the way that his entire body had begun to grow ridged, and he was extremely pale from all of his blood rushing to his penis.
"Fu- Sherlock, I'm g-gunna-" He tried to warn as he remembered that Sherlock wasn't a fan of swallowing but the spasms of an orgasm took over his body in a twitching gasp as he came into Sherlock's mouth. He leaned back into the chair, panting out the aftershock of a long awaited orgasm.
Sherlock ran the pad of his thumb over the bottom of his lip to swipe away a trail of come that had escaped his mouth and stared at the slack man in front of him. His sandy hair was slicked to his temples with perspiration while the rest of it needed a brushing, the lab coat with his name tag clipped to it was crumpled up behind him which left the several inches tanned stomach that had gotten slightly more plump since he get gotten back from the war revealed, and his slightly feminine waist that disappeared into the pants that his softening penis was sticking out of.
Without thinking about it, Sherlock gently took that penis and carefully tucked it back into the black boxers that had held it fifteen minutes before, then zipped up John's pants slowly. Then he looked back at John-whose breathing was almost normal and the colored had returned to his face. That was when Sherlock realized he felt odd inside, not an ill odd, but an odd that he couldn't place.
Sherlock looked away with a sigh and stood up so that John could take his feet off of the desk then turned around, squirted some hand sanitizer onto his hand from the corner of the desk and began rubbing it into his skin and turned back towards John.
He hadn't expected Sherlock to visit him at work-let alone give him head in his office with the secretary fifty feet away. So here he was, riding off the after-shock of an orgasm with the man who had caused it staring at him oddly-like a blind man seeing the world for the first time.
"Sherlock, what is it?" He sat up and straightened his clothing and ran a still slightly shaking hand through his hair.
He just continued to look at him like he had never seen him.
"Love, are you okay? What's wrong?" He slowly got up and took a step towards the staring man, but jumped when in a flurry of motion he twirled around, grabbed his coat and slid it on gracefully.
"That, Dr. Watson, is why you should make housecalls." He smirked and glided towards the door which he unlocked, slid halfway out of it then turned around and said with the biggest smile John had ever seen on his face, "Oh and one more thing- John Hamish Watson, I just realized something: I love you." He disappeared out the door and John sat in stunned silence as he heard Sherlock acknowledge Lily then continue towards the elevator.
With a small smile John reached for his calendar and wrote on the date,
Sherlock visited at work… Finally said the words 'I love you'.
