CHAPTER 13.
So, this is my first attempt in writing porn. Which is what I always wanted to do, by the way, but was always too scared to even start. But now I gained some courage, so here we are :)
And please forgive me all mistakes?
It was somehow the hardest chapter to write yet, but let me just say I enjoyed it so much! Yay, I did it! :D
They take cab home, this time without any obstacles, and drive in comfortable silence. Hamish is sound asleep in John's arms and John has his fingers laced with Sherlock's and he slowly begins to understand that what he feels now is in every possible way unique. Yes, he loved Mary, but it was that easy kind of love that never leaves you wondering or aching. They fitted together perfectly and she was this kind of woman he always imagined himself making family with. It was the easiest choice. Now, with Sherlock it is different, this man takes all available place in John's heart and love to him leaves John almost hurting.. It's not simple kind of love, but all the same much greater, much more complicated. He gets that feeling he probably will never fully understand this brilliant man he choose to build his life with, but it's okay, he realizes, it's all okay, cause he would never exchange it for anything else.
He turns his head and places a silent kiss on Sherlock's cheek. Detective looks at him surprised, but then he smiles, that brilliant, saved only for John kind of smile, and good doctor's heart melts with all these feelings.
When they finally arrive to Baker Street it starts snowing, huge white snowflakes falling slowly from black, night sky.
In the same, shared silence they climb the stairs to their flat, careful not to wake Mrs. Hudson up, and then John goes to his bedroom to put Hamish to bed. Looking at his son, peacefully sleeping in his cot, his golden hair slightly tousled, his breath even and fair eyelashes trembling lightly, John starts to wonder, what now.
So Sherlock reciprocates his feelings, indeed very much so. And it seemed he is willing to pursue a relationship with John.
But is he also up to going to bed with him?
And if even he is, then it's not like John was in bed with any other man before. He feels like a wave of panic washes through him. He inhales slowly, then realizes that if he is scared then Sherlock must be terrified, after all John is probably much more experienced when it comes to sex than he is.
Breathing slowly, he tries to calm himself, and decides that if it's going to work, he must be the one to stay cool. And he really, really, really wants it to work.
He straightens and goes downstairs not leaving himself enough time for second thoughts.
In the main room Sherlock leans by the door-frame, his expression uncertain and insecure, and it makes John's heart ache, so he goes straight to him and kisses him lightly on the mouth.
He licks at detective's upper lip and, when his mouth opens hesitantly, teases his tongue gently, eliciting quiet moan from him. It encourages him, so he slowly-oh-so-slowly roams his hands over Sherlock's chest, and slides coat off his arms.
He breaks the kiss, and delicately moves his thumb over this infuriating man's lips, taking his hand simultaneously. There's whole lot of insecurity in Sherlock's eyes, as he looks at the floor and mumbles "John, I think that you should be aware that..." and breaks, apparently not knowing how to put it into words. But John knows him so well, so he just whispers "I know, it's all right, love. We don't have to do anything."
But then Sherlock kisses him again, and, never letting go of his hand, leads him to his bedroom, and closes the door behind them.
They kiss, more and more passionately, hands tangled in clothes, then John starts undressing Sherlock slowly, struggling over too many buttons in his shirt, he even manages to tear some of them off. Belt buckle is somehow a problem to undo with hands trembling slightly, but then it lets go, and not long after they are both naked.
Never breaking the kiss John eases his lover-to-be on the bed, and immediately joins him there, embracing him, unable to stop himself, wanting to do it for such a long time.
At this point John is no longer afraid, no longer hesitant. He is with the man he loves more than anything in the world and is going to take a full advantage of it.
He ducks his head and leaves the trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses on Sherlock's neck, going lower and lower until he kisses his collarbones.
They're both rock-hard at this point. John stops kissing Sherlock for a moment, just to take a look at him, all flushed, hair a mess and his beautiful, storm-like eyes wide and full of lust, irises almost whole consumed by black pupils. He is breathing heavily, holding John so tight doctor is sure it will leave marks.
"John, please." He says, his voice almost pleading, and who is John to say no?
There is lube on the bedside table and in any other circumstances John would be all happy to mock Sherlock a little about it, but now he has other things in mind.
He sits, helping detective gently to prop himself up on the pillows, legs spread wide, and huge eyes watching Johns every movement, and starts to work him open. It doesn't take long before he has all three fingers buried deep inside him and Sherlock is writhing beneath him.
John lines himself up and pushes slowly, watching changing expressions on his lover's face. He has one of Sherlock's legs thrown over his good arm and he bends over and kisses him clumsily, and starts moving slowly and it's brilliant, it's wonderful and why exactly was he so scared about it?
His movements grow more erratic with time, and he wraps his fingers over Sherlock's erection and it's not long and younger man comes shouting his name. And it's a perfect sight, and John struggles to keep his eyes open and watch because Sherlock's face is painfully beautiful at this very second. It's all what it takes to bring John over the edge and he closes his eyes, unable to hold on.
They lie in silence for a couple of minutes, but then Sherlock moves and wraps himself over John, and John is amazed, cause he would never suspect Sherlock Holmes to be the one to cuddle.
"It was..." John tries to catch his breath.
"Perfect." Ends Sherlock for him, and he is right. It was absolutely perfect.
"I love you." John doesn't even realize when words slip from his mouth. But he's surprisingly okay with that, his statement being nothing but truth.
Sherlock hums happily and kisses him on the scar on his arm and it's so intimate John fears for a minute he will actually cry.
"It doesn't hurt to say it back, you know." He teases instead, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.
And it's only when they're almost falling asleep, when he hears it.
"I love you too."