Snogging
Sherlock was the first person John had actually really snogged with.
Sure, there had been a few girls in high school and uni and even one guy from combat training, but Sherlock had been the first he really enjoyed snogging for hours, without asking himself how long this had to go on until he has finally welcomed into this panty.
When being with Sherlock, you just felt like the most powerful man in the world. A brilliant consulting detective, a high functioning sociopath, a man how was able to amaze you with every word he said, laid his heart into your hands and his whole being seemed to be at your mercy.
It were exact these thoughts simmer in Johns´ mind, as he snogged Sherlock senseless on his bed.
They had both peeled away every layer of clothing long ago.
A thin sheet covering them and separating their most private places.
One arm around each other, the other lovingly caressing soft chests.
Johns´ lips were already slightly numb, maybe swollen, but Sherlocks´ were too.
And they kept kissing and nibbling and biting.
Every few moments their fingers tightened, craving for more, the closeness they already shared not nearly being enough.
Tongues were sloppily exchanged.
Hot breaths could be felt against ones´ skin.
Sweat emerged from every pore, being ignored.
Hands were run through thick hair, pulling the other mouth closer.
Nipples were tweaked and rubbed.
Feelings were shared, which couldn´t be told.
And eyes needn´t be opened.