John's phone beeped just as Sherlock finished scattering their clothes over John's bedroom floor and they had fallen back onto John's bed, Sherlock on top and dominating John's body.
"Leave. It," Sherlock sneered into John's neck before bitting down and sucking on the soft skin roughly.
John shook his head and pushed Sherlock gently off, marveling in his full, naked body. The curves and rugged edges that could cut steal in half. The eyes that melted stone. Those hips that, when used as perfectly as he used them, could drive you easily mad. That erection that stood straight up and pointed, begging and pleading for attention. Damn...
John picked his phone up and raised it to his ear. "Hello?" His voice cracked as Sherlock shook his hips, his erection bouncing slightly and invitingly. John swallowed hard.
"John? What is he doing to you?" Greg demanded, sounding over and passed pissed off.
"G-Greg? I-I'm sorry... I can't be with you and... God..." Sherlock had gotten up and had pressed himself to the bed post, stroking himself and quietly moaning John's name. "Fuck..." The word brushed past his lips in barely a whisper.
"You can't be with me? Is this -his- doing?!" Greg barked.
"I-I... Ohhhhhh... Mhmmmmm..." John couldn't think straight as Sherlock came over and stepped behind him.
Sherlock's hands trailed over John's body, one hand traveling all the way down and wrapping long, bony fingers around John's throbbing length.
"John?!" Greg barked loud enough that Sherlock could hear him loud and clear.
Sherlock picked the phone out of John's fingers and whispered hotly into the mic, "He's with me, now, Lestrade. Go fuck yourself."
The line died as Sherlock closed the phone and tossed it across the room.
"Sh-Sherlock, that was... God..." John moaned as Sherlock's member pressed hard against his leg.
"Would you rather go running back to him, or would you rather me take care of that little problem of yours?" Sherlock breathed into John's ear, running his thumb over John's tip and pressing slightly. His other hand landed lightly on John's waist and his chin leaned on his shoulder.
John yelped as Sherlock nipped at the skin under his jaw. He felt his tongue flash out over the now-damaged skin and hissed as it left a trail of cool saliva running down his jaw.
"W-would you help?" John asked, his eyes fluttering closed.
Sherlock chuckled deeply and laid John down on his bed, climbing over him and pressing their erections together.
"Of course," Sherlock hummed, running his tongue over John's lips and his hands over John now-hardening nipples.
He twisted them gently between his fingers and ground his hips into John's, causing him to yelp and hiss and admit all these strangely arousing sounds loudly into the quiet flat that Sherlock fed off of to move closer.
-
Lestrade stared at his phone in his hand as the line went dead, ringing a very annoying bell in his ear until he hung up his end. He threw his phone to the wall as hard as he could, listening to it break into pieces and rain down to the floor. He didn't care. The phone was worthless and never truly broke; the least of his problems.
John had said yes to -him-, not the hyperactive minded git. Had he cared? Did he even want Greg to begin with, or did he just know it would be enough to get under Sherlock's skin? Had John -used- him?
Lestrade growled and slumped onto his couch, his teeth grinding. He wanted John all to himself. He didn't want Sherlock, the arrogant bastard that got every little thing he wanted by throwing a fit, to have that amazing man. He didn't deserve him.
After only a few hours of having John, kissing him while sober and actually letting themselves have fun with the whole ordeal, Lestrade didn't want it to stop. He was starting to get these feelings, stronger then the ones he's had for any of his past girlfriends. Even stronger then those he felt for his ex-wife. His head was spinning with moments of John.
God damn Sherlock fucking Holmes.
-
John's phone insisted on continuing it's hissy fit under the pillow on the ground as Sherlock wrapped John's leg over his shoulder. He shot the phone an angry glance out of the corner of his eye before he swooped down and slid his tongue along the head of John's erection. John hissed and moaned, fisting his hands into the sheet. He threw his head back in a silent scream as Sherlock continued this motion over and over again. Noises John didn't even know he could make escaped his lips as he hands felt for something, anything, to hold onto. The sheets tore under his nails and his toes were beginning to curl.
Sherlock, after licking his way all the way around John's erection, slid his tongue south. John screamed Sherlock's name to the sky as Sherlock's tongue made it's way into John's entrance. He pressed as deep as he could, licking the bundle of nerves that drove John crazy. His eyes spun, his head felt like it exploded, and his body went into a overdrive only Sherlock's tongue could cause.
John's hips bucked up and his eyes rolled in his head, making the room spin and dance about. Sherlock chuckled as a girly squeal emitted from his mouth. The chuckle did things to John. As it traveled down through the tongue that had penetrated him, John thrusted his hips into Sherlock's face. Sherlock pulled out and smirked up as his desperate flatmate, who was screaming his name. He crawled up and nudged his nose with his own. Without warning, John was filled with Sherlock's erection. He opened his mouth to scream, only to be stopped by Sherlock's own mouth covering and devouring his.
"John," Sherlock's voice was hot and heavy with lust, sending shivers down John's spine and straight to his already throbbing erection. "I want you as mine..."
John moaned, his head trying to wrap around the words that danced their way into his ears. "I... Am..." He panted, his grip on the sheets tightening.
"No, no, no," Sherlock whispered, his lips brushing against the bridge of John's ear. "Say you'll stay mine. Say you'll always be mine and no one else's. Say you'll date me."
John nodded furiously as Sherlock gave a hard thrust, pounding into John's bundle of nerves again. "Yours..." He panted, sweat dripping down his forehead and into his eyes.
John's hair was plastered to his head. His breathing was shallow and uneven and his body was on fire.
He screamed, partly Sherlock's name, partly just a scream, as Sherlock thrust one last time deeply into John and released his orgasm. He rode it out in rough, long waves, the cum spilling out of John and onto the bed. As soon as he was done, John soon followed suit and released himself all over his own stomach. Another tear in the sheets, another moan and scream from John's mouth, and one last deep thrust by Sherlock until it was over.
Sherlock pulled out and lay on top of John, making it even harder to breath then it already was. He kissed John long and hard and deep, pulling the man close so their whole bodies were touching. Just the kiss, just the way Sherlock used his tongue to pry his lips open, was enough to get him close to becoming dangerously hard again. It was painful.
John was in love.