Alright, this is the smut chapter. It's also the lead up to the next few chapters. Thanks for the story alerts and favourites, I really do appreciate it! Rating has changed to M, just to be on the safe side. Enjoy!
Warning: Contains slash.
Disclaimer: Sherlock belongs to the BBC. I only own this plot.
"Your first time? You mean you've never…" John held Sherlock's hips and gave his lover a hesitant look.
"You're my first. First proper partner too. Look, John I trust you and love you. I just need to be able to show you." Sherlock squirmed a bit on John's lap, letting his hands slide down the front of the man's shirt. John caught those long, slender hands with his own and pressed a small kiss into the palm.
"Well, we should move to the bedroom in that case. I don't think the cats really want to see this." John nodded towards the velvet cat beds, where Bitsy and Tobias were watching them. Sherlock calmed down with a little smile and slid off John, offering his hand. John took it and in a matter of minutes, they were upstairs in John's bedroom with their hands still clasped together. Sherlock's own bedroom had been completely vacant the past week. Then again, John's bedroom should just be called 'their' bedroom and Sherlock's the 'spare' bedroom. For some reason, though, they just referred to it as Sherlock's old room.
John was the first of the two to make his move. His hands moved from Sherlock's hands to his neck. Slowly, they started to undo the first button. He paused then, looking up at his lover for some sort of approval. Sherlock nodded swiftly and undid his belt, while John continued to open the buttons one by one.
Stepping back, John started to open his own shirt buttons before he was stopped by Sherlock.
"Let me… I want to." And so John let Sherlock take over. As his shirt was slipped off and let fall to the ground, he felt a cool hand on his left shoulder – the one with the scar. Sherlock's fingers traced the smooth scar delicately, as if it were something fragile. Eventually Sherlock kissed it, his plump lips brushing carefully over it. Pulling back, he let his own shirt fall to the ground, picked it up again and folded both of the shirts neatly over the back of a chair.
"Come here, Sherlock." John spoke softly as he sat on the edge of his bed, removing his trousers at the same time Sherlock did. Both men were now in their underwear. John couldn't help look at Sherlock's pale, slightly toned but lean frame. It looked as if it had been sculpted. Sherlock seemed to be embarrassed of his body, not meeting John's eyes as he slipped onto his lap again.
"Are you alright?" John slid his hands down Sherlock's back, emitting a sigh and a shudder from the taller male.
"I-I'm fine John, really." Sherlock arched his back into his lover. John secured his hands at the base of Sherlock's back before swiftly switching their positions so that he was pinning Sherlock onto the bed. He leaned down and gave Sherlock a slow kiss, moving the kisses down to his jawline. Sherlock gasped when the sensitive skin just under his jawline was sucked on gently. His head tipped back, leaving the rest of his neck exposed and vulnerable to those lips. John took the hint and his kisses trailed slowly to the side of Sherlock's neck, sucking deeply and even nibbling just a tiny bit, hard enough to leave a love bite but gentle enough that he didn't break the skin. Eventually his tongue travelled to Sherlock's collarbone.
All the while, Sherlock was breathing deeply underneath him, mouth gaping slightly. By now there was a slight pitching in his boxers.
"John, I think I need you to a-appease my little problem." How the detective managed such thorough sentences in his current state was a mystery. John just smirked and moved his hand down to palm the area, causing Sherlock to gasp again and place his hands upon the doctor's strong arms.
In one swift movement, John let his hand slip under the waistband of Sherlock's boxers, teasing the delicate skin there before he pulled them down. It released Sherlock's length and John took a few seconds to appreciate it. Sherlock's cheeks were a deep pink in colour and he had to bite his lip to keep his breathing steady. John could feel his own erection grow in his boxers and they became awfully tight as his hand curled around Sherlock.
It didn't take more than a few hard strokes to turn Sherlock into a trembling, lightly moaning fraction of his usual self. John moved his hand down to his lover's entrance, one finger prodding at the taut ring of muscle very gently.
"I'm going to prepare you now-"
"Wait, John. In the top drawer beside us…" Sherlock gestured with a fling of his arm to the bedside locker, almost embarrassed. John stopped just long enough to open the drawer, discovering a bottle of lube.
"I figured we m-might be needing it soon. Just to make things smoother?"
"Of course." John smiled and gave Sherlock a re-assuring kiss. Opening the lube with a loud, plastic click, John squeezed a generous amount onto his fingers. Snapping the bottle shut, he put it back on the locker and then returned swiftly to where he left off; prodding the entrance with his middle finger. "Take a breath, love." John said as he pushed forward. The tight heat that encased his finger next told John to be thankful of that lube.
Sherlock took a sharp breath and his eyes squeezed shut, arching his back and allowing the finger to settle inside him. John looked up, afraid for a moment that he had hurt his lover.
"The first time is always the worst, Sherlock. It will get better I promise you." John leaned down to nip on the shell of Sherlock's ear and slipped another finger slowly in. When that one was inside, he made a scissoring motion with his fingers to 'stretch' him out. A low moan rumbled out from the detective along with another, higher, almost squeak-like noise as John's fingertips grazed off his sweet spot. John removed his fingers at that point and lowered Sherlock's body down flat. Taking off his own, now painfully tight boxers, he released his length.
"Are you ready, love?" He asked Sherlock. Taking the lube again, John prepared himself. Sherlock could only nod, opening his eyes a fraction to look up at the beautiful, tanned and muscular body of his John, his ex-army doctor. John guided Sherlock along and told him to wrap his legs around his waist. As he lined himself up, Sherlock's feet found the base of John's back and his hands held onto John's broad shoulders.
"Alright." John whispered, pushing forward. As he did so, Sherlock's head tipped back again and he took a breath. John pushed further into the lanky detective, keeping him steady by holding him just below his hips. John himself had to close his eyes once when a low groan escaped him. His slow and gentle thrusts gradually built up in speed.
The detective's grip on John's shoulders tightened, nails almost digging into the tanned skin. Even in his state of pleasure, he was careful not to dig his nails into the scar. He wasn't sure how it felt to touch, but he wasn't chancing hurting John.
One of those thrusts nudged at Sherlock's prostate, making the detective near shriek out, bucking his hips upwards and grabbing onto John tighter. They were in a tight embrace, Sherlock purring and moaning in euphoria and John grunting with each sharp thrust of his hips. Sometime in all that heat, their positions changed once more and John was now lying on his back with Sherlock straddling his waist.
The detective's hands were splayed across John's chest to hold him up and he leaned forward, rolling his hips and panting with each move.
"Sher-Sher-"That was all John could manage before letting out a loud groan and spilling himself inside his lover. Sherlock shuddered once, pausing and moaning out John's name as he himself came. He may have made John's chest quite sticky but neither of them cared.
Sherlock's eyes were closed, and the arm that had been holding him up finally gave out. He collapsed onto John's broad chest, his cheek pressed against John's scar and his hand still pinned between them. Exhaling shakily, he refused to open his eyes or look up at John. He was either embarrassed about how sensitive he had been, or he was regretting what had happened.
For a while they lay there, catching their breath and not saying a word. John's hand found their way to Sherlock's hair, carding through the dark, slightly damp curls.
"…John…" Sherlock breathed and finally raised his head but his eyes still couldn't meet John. It had been one of the best feelings in the world but he still found it odd. One week ago and he never would have thought this could have happened; now look at them. John, however, had just acted out his fantasies, the very thing he had been thinking about since his feelings first emerged.
"Shh… Sleep now, love." John whispered, kissing the top of Sherlock's hair and laying him down beside him. He reached over and pulled the covers over their bodies. "I love you."
"I love you too, John." The detective mumbled as sleep finally took over. John's arms found their way around his lanky body and held him close, inhaling once more the smell of tea tree and Sherlock.
Sherlock rolled onto his other side at some point, pulling John with him so they were spooned together. He managed to tuck his long body into a surprisingly small area of the bed, taking up as little space as possible. He did tend to hog the blankets, though, pulling them all forward and bundling them up against his chest.
The next morning John woke up first. A stream of sunlight shone through the curtains and illuminated the two bodies. Sherlock too woke up when John stirred, being the light sleeper he is. For a second he said nothing and his memories of the previous night came flooding back. Though he would never admit it, he blushed.
"Goodmorning." John yawned, leaning over to press a small kiss on Sherlock's temple. Sherlock moved around and caught John with his lips, kissing him deeply. As he turned, a dull throb came from his bottom and he squirmed pulling back.
"Morning."
"Sore?" John smiled and slipped out of the bed. He opened the curtains and squinted as the sun filled the whole room.
"Just a bit." Sherlock lied. He sat upright with a wince. "But you may have to help me into a bath."
"I suggest a cold one. It does help." John offered his hand and Sherlock took it gently to be hauled onto his feet.
One cool bath later found John downstairs, making tea and toast. He still hadn't dressed fully so he was standing in a pair of old pyjama bottoms. Tobias and Bitsy were playing with toy mice and jingle balls, meowing softly when John threw them both a bit of crust. The smell of warm toast wafted upstairs and brought Sherlock down in a dark blue shirt and black trousers. The love bite John had marked his skin with last night was peeking over his collar.
"You're going to eat." John said, plating up a slice of toast and putting it in front of Sherlock. He would have protested, but the detective instead just shrugged and took a small bite; John was only looking out for his health.
"I got a text from Lestrade thismorning." Sherlock took out his phone and showed it to John.
/Package left for you at Scotland Yard. It looks suspicious – GL/ John looked at the text and frowned.
"Odd. Usually stuff is sent here." John sat down with his own toast and spread a generous amount of jam onto the bread.
"We'll go there after breakfast and see what's happening. I'm sure they've kept it up for me." Though Sherlock was acting calm, something felt wrong in John's gut. For some reason, his instincts were screaming 'danger!' but there wasn't much he could do about it. How much more dangerous could things get? He and Sherlock had been through enough things already.
"Right. I'll go get dressed then." John smiled at his lover, but the feeling didn't subside.
The next chapter is where the action begins. Let me know what you think? Writing that smut made me blush! Gah! But there will be more in future chapters.