Chapter 11: Dancing
The boys fell into an easy pattern, making it home most nights except for a few where they ended up running all over Cardiff, chasing different creatures; soon, they were celebrating three months at Torchwood, and John couldn't be happier. Sherlock was still having nightmares, but far less frequently. He seemed to be adjusting slowly, becoming less distant. He laughed and smiled for real now, and while he'd had had several breakdowns along the way, John was there to pick him back up again, and he seemed happy.
Jack insisted on a veritable feast that night: a large Chinese takeaway and plenty of soda and alcohol. It had been a long day, full of intense chases and a few close calls; John had been terrified for a few moments that he was going to lose Sherlock again, but the boy had pulled through. Now they were all around the conference table, tucking in and laughing. Sherlock smiled, and he actually ate that night, hungry from the excitement of the day.
Ianto watched the two boys for a moment, glad to see they were doing well. Jack shot them a grin before turning to Ianto. "How've they been?" he murmured.
"Well. They seem fine."
Jack nodded, grinning past Ianto at Gwen as he passed her the dumplings. "That's good. I'm glad to hear it." Ianto nodded back, picking through his food.
John was glad to see Sherlock eating but didn't say anything. He'd gotten very good at not hovering the past few months. The pale boy turned to the blonde. "So...are we still going to go dancing?"
John put his food down, looking over at Sherlock. "Yes, we are, if you're ready." He remembered his promise and intended to make good on it.
Sherlock put his fork down. "Whenever you are, he said casually. He was nervous, but he felt it may be time to take the leap.
John gave his lover a slow smile before turning to Jack. "We'd like to request the night off."
Jack glanced at Ianto and Gwen before looking back at the boys. "I think we can arrange that. We'll hold down the fort for the night."
Ianto nodded in agreement. "I'm sure we can manage."
Sherlock smiled back, holding John's hand under the table. John squeezed his hand gently before finishing his food. He rose and kissed Sherlock on the top of the head. "I'll get our coats. Meet you in the shop."
"Okay." Sherlock said, leaving the hub and waiting in the tourist shop patiently. John arrived a few moments later, putting Sherlock's coat on for him, his own already donned. "All ready?"
He let out a shaky breath and smiled. "Ready."
The club was a few blocks away, and John paid the admission for the both of them, secretly glad that Sherlock had chosen his purple shirt to wear that morning. They checked their coats and John led the boy out onto the dance floor. Sherlock followed John, a bit apprehensive of the crowd; he held onto John's hand tightly.
"I've got you," John whispered into Sherlock's ear as the song ended, Maroon 5's "Moves Like Jagger" starting. He grinned, familiar with the song and placed his hands on Sherlock's hips. "Follow my lead."
Sherlock nodded, moving with John. He draped his arms across the boy's shoulders, smiling at him. The shorter boy grinned before he started singing along, swaying his hips and moving them side to side a few steps in each direction. "Just shoot for the stars, if it feels right then aim for my heart..."
Sherlock swayed his hips along with John, laughing softly. He made sure to keep gazing into John's eyes to drown out everything around them.
"I've got the moves like Jagger, I've got the moves like Jagger, I've got the moooooooves like Jagger," John sang, twirling them and laughing. Sherlock joined in, kissing his boyfriend on the forehead. "Thank you."
"You're welcome, love," John whispered back as the music changed. "I love this one!" He grinned, letting go of Sherlock but staying close enough to bump hips with the boy. "Hey soul sister, I don't wanna miss a single thing you doooo, tonight!"
Sherlock giggled, moving in time to the music, watching John dance. The blonde threw back his head and laughed as he sang along, finally collapsing against Sherlock as the song ended, breathing hard. "You're getting it!"
Sherlock held John up. "I have an excellent teacher," he responded, grinning down at the boy.
The next song started and John took a few seconds to get his breath back before pulling Sherlock close to him, noses and mouths barely touching and dancing with him to The Wanted.
"The sun goes down, the stars come out, and all that counts is here and now. My universe will never be the same. I'm glad you came, I'm glad you came."
John pulled back, spinning Sherlock so that the boy's back was against his chest and placing his hand on Sherlock's hips as the music picked up. "Time for a new move," he whispered in Sherlock's ear as he began grinding gently against the boy. Sherlock was surprised, and the position was a little uncomfortable for him, but he didn't protest, trying to become comfortable, to let go of the last vestiges of his abuse. He absorbed himself in the music and in John.
"Trust me." John could feel how tense the boy was. "I've got you. I love you." He started singing again, a bit breathless but enthusiastic all the same. Sherlock nodded, exhaling relaxing a bit. "I love you too," he said, beginning to move in response. He listened to the lyrics of the song, smiling. John rewarded Sherlock relaxing by pressing soft kisses to the smooth fabric of his shirt, kissing the boy's shoulder blades, moving in time with the music but not pressing too hard against him; the night would be a little more difficult than he'd thought. Sherlock moved into the kisses, craning his neck backward to try and kiss John. The blonde grinned, teasing Sherlock by being just out of reach. He knew the slow song should be coming up right about...now.
It changed, John slowly turning Sherlock to face him once more. He wrapped his arms around the boy's thin waist, pulling him closer and looking up at him as the music began to swirl around them.
"When I am down and oh my soul's so weary..."
Sherlock smiled, wrapping his arms around John's neck and swaying slowly to the music; it was so sweet and loving, just stepping in time with John.
"Kiss me," John whispered, staring up at the boy with love in his eyes.
"You raise me up to more than I can be."
Sherlock leaned down, kissing John tenderly. He wanted to pour every bit of affection he had into it, just let John know he loved him and how much he loved him: for staying with him, for putting him back together again. John melted into it, actually letting go of Sherlock and bringing his hands up to cup the boy's face as he kissed him back. It was slow and tender and passionate and perfect, taking John's breath away.
"I am strong when I am on your shoulders, you raise me up to more than I can be."
Sherlock pulled away as the song trailed off. "I love you so much. You have no idea," he whispered quickly. "I can never thank you enough."
John stroked Sherlock's cheeks, glowing like the sun as he smiled up at the boy. "You're welcome, Sherlock. I love you more than anything."
"You put me back together again. You made me whole. You are everything."
John felt tears prick his eyes and he kissed Sherlock again. "I'm so glad I could. Thank you for letting me."
"You're welcome."
"Do you want to dance some more or get out of here?" John murmured against the boy's lips
"Let's go home."
John smiled and kissed his cheek, leading Sherlock off the dance floor and getting their coats. He shivered as they walked out of the club, the air very cold after the warm heat of bodies pressed together and dancing. Sherlock was glad to feel the cool night air on his face as they left the club. Everything sounded muffled from the loud music, and the air inside had been hot and close; he wrapped an arm around John as they walked. John leaned into him. "I liked that," he said, only then realizing that his ears were ringing slightly. He knew he had everything at home he'd need' between the internet and Ianto, he'd gotten more than enough information as to how to try and approach the rest of the night.
"I did too. Thank you for that." Sherlock led John back towards the apartment they called home.
"You're most welcome." John let them in and they went up to their flat, hanging the coats up in the closet. John was shutting the door as he felt Sherlock's hands on his hips. The boy kissed him softly. "So. We're going to do this?" He was nervous but ready.
"If you're ready, then yes," John said simply, gathering Sherlock in his arms and hugging him.
"I'm ready. I'm ready to do this."
John led him to their bedroom before kissing him again, slightly harder and deeper than he had at the club, fingers slowly unbuttoning Sherlock's shirt and stroking the pale skin as it was revealed. Sherlock shivered at the touch; nobody had seen him exposed in a long time. He stroked John's arms gently to let him know he was okay. John slid the shirt slowly off of the tall, lanky body, breaking the kiss to drink him in. "God, you're gorgeous," he moaned, peppering the pale chest with kisses as he rubbed slow circles on Sherlock's back. Sherlock watched John kiss his body, feeling butterflies rise up in his stomach. This was nothing like before. This was tender and slow and careful. It felt...wonderful.
"I love you, godI love you," John murmured, pulling back long enough to tug off his own jumper and t-shirt.
"I love you too."
John slowly unbuckled and unbuttoned Sherlock's trousers, sliding them down his thin hips to let them pool on the floor and kicking off his own jeans. He had a moment when he tried to toe off his shoes and nearly fell over, cursing but managed to straighten up, blushing with embarrassment. Sherlock laughed, stepping out of his trousers; he put a foot down on the heel of the shoes so John could pull his feet out of them.
"Thanks," John mumbled, flushing brighter red as Sherlock helped him with his shoes but smiling back at the boy all the same. "Off with your own," he teased, "And then lie down please," his voice soft and gentle as he ran a hand through Sherlock's hair. Sherlock toed off his own shoes, laying down on his back and letting out a shaky breath.
John got a condom and a bottle of lube from his side table before climbing onto the bed, kneeling next to Sherlock. "I want you to pick a safe word," he said. "Non-negotiable. I want you to be able to stop me if it's going too far."
"Okay...Beethoven."
John smiled, Sherlock's least favorite composer. He straddled the boy and leaned down, pouring an intense, loving gaze into Sherlock's eyes before kissing him deeply, grinding their hips together gently. Sherlock moaned, kissing back. John went slow, letting them both grow fairly hard before moving forward, kissing his way down Sherlock's neck to his chest and sucking one nipple into his mouth. He let his hands come down to Sherlock's pants, slipping his fingers into the waistband and tugging gently to slide them off. Sherlock gasped at the stimulation, allowing John to remove his last bit of clothing; he felt exposed, extremely vulnerable.
"Are you all right?" John murmured as he kissed his way to Sherlock's naval.
"Y-yes," he whispered, watching John's head travel downwards, feeling a heat in his body he wasn't sure he'd felt before. John kissed Sherlock's length, mind going back to that day three months before when they'd gotten off together on the sofa in the Hub. He slicked up three fingers as he paid attention to Sherlock's cock, hesitating slightly before stroking the boy's hole. The lube was cold; he'd have to remember to heat it the next time
Sherlock jumped a bit. "S-sorry," he apologized. He took deep breaths to relax.
John nodded, breathing slowly to calm his pounding heart. He decided to distract the boy and swallowed his cock as he inserted the first finger, tongue trailing the length gently, even lazily as he started to stroke Sherlock. Sherlock groaned, barely noticing the finger that had entered his body. "Oh, God, John..."
The blonde smiled, Sherlock's moans going straight to his cock while he bobbed up and down slowly as he opened Sherlock, adding a second finger before he thought he'd have to. They'd done nothing but snog for three months, so he didn't know how long either of them would last, but he was determined to make this count for something. Sherlock gripped the bed sheets, feeling a bit of discomfort as John adjusted him, but pleasure soon won out.
John spent more time on the second finger, working a scissoring motion into his movements, moaning around Sherlock's cock to send extra vibrations through the boy. Sherlock grunted as John's fingers spread apart, squirming slightly; he tried his utmost to keep his hips from bucking upwards in response to the warmth around him. He could feel a knot growing in his stomach. No. Too soon. John slowed down and pulled off Sherlock, peppering his cock with kisses as he inserted his final finger. "Almost ready," he said, breathless.
Sherlock nodded, his hips lifting off the mattress slightly as the third finger made its way in. His breathing was heavy now, ragged. "Okay." He said, mostly to himself.
John kissed his way back up Sherlock's stomach as he pulled his fingers out, slicking himself up liberally. Noticing Sherlock's hips as the boy tried to raise them, he grabbed a pillow and slipped it under them; he positioned himself as he hovered over his lover, his tip brushing Sherlock's loosened entrance. The locked gazes. "Ready?"
Sherlock took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm ready."
John leaned down and kissed him deeply as he slowly entered the boy, deliberate and gentle. Sherlock gasped against John's mouth. It didn't hurt like he had expected it would: somewhat uncomfortable, but not painful. John sucked on Sherlock's tongue until he was all the way in, moaning at the tightness and the heat surrounding him. He released his lover's mouth and looked down at the boy, locking eyes once more as he started rocking back and forth, grinding their hips. Sherlock had to take a few minutes to adjust before the uneasiness subsided, then he moved with John, bringing their hips together.
When Sherlock started moving with him, John felt the grin spread across his face. God, they were finally doing it. He beamed down at the boy, going a little harder than before until he felt his cock brush against something that made Sherlock whimper.
"What was that?"
"Prostate, I think," John murmured, his head drooping slightly as he found it again and thrust against it, harder. Sherlock moaned even louder. "That's...new..."
John grinned as the boy's body trembled with pleasure. He started going faster, breathing ragged as he felt himself build toward climax. "I'm close," he groaned.
"Me too," Sherlock told him, leaning up and capturing John's lips carefully. John kissed him hard, one hand reaching down to stroke Sherlock, flicking his thumb across the tip.
Sherlock couldn't hold on much longer, and when John stroked him, he lost it. He cried out, back arching upwards as he came, his walls clenching around John. "J-John!"
Sherlock clenching threw John over the edge. "Sherlock!" he cried, burying himself in the boy, trembling and shaking as he collapsed, gasping for breath. The pale boy held John close, smiling. "We did it," he whispered, kissing the boy's damp cheek. "I'm yours."
John took a few, deep, breaths, hugging Sherlock tight, a few tears trickling down his face. "We did. I'm yours as well, and I love you, Sherlock. I really, really love you!" He pulled out and disposed of the condom, breaking Sherlock's hold long enough to grab a towel from his side table and clean them up before snuggling close once more, shivering slightly as the sweat began to dry on their bodies.
Sherlock nodded, tears falling down his face as well. "I love you too." He pressed his forehead against John's, something he did often. John laughed through his tears, wiping Sherlock's away with his thumbs and cradling the boy's face in his hands. He leaned into Sherlock's forehead, looking into his lover's eyes. "I will always be here for you, I will always put you back together again, and I will always love you."
"Thank you," he whispered. "I know you will." John was his constant. He was the one thing he could always come back to.
John yawned, chuckling softly and pulling the covers up over them. "God I'm tired now. You wore me out," he grinned, winking up at the boy.
"Sleep, John," Sherlock said, kissing him on the forehead gently.
"You'll be all right?"
"I'll be fine, just might take a little while to get to sleep."
"Wake me if there's a nightmare," John murmured, letting Sherlock's heartbeat lull him to sleep.
"I will," he promised, watching the boy fall asleep on his chest, holding him close. It took a long time, but eventually Sherlock drifted off, not having a single nightmare for the first time in three months.