So tomorrow came.
John woke up with a weird sensation.
he turned because his arm was numb, and he realised that there was something pinning him, down stopping him.
as he began to panic, memories drifted in and he stopped dead, wondering whether when he looked he would be disappointed. He saw a shock of curly black hair, and sighed into them relaxing. He didn't move because even in their situation, he would have hell to pay if he woke up unnaturally, but the moment John shifted, Sherlock moved to accommodate, and then nestled in, the lengths of their bodies touching.
Sherlock groaned, and John realized he had accidentally thrusted against his crotch, getting rid of all thoughts of sleep for both of them.
Sherlock eyes widened and he spun into action.
Reaching under the duvet, he began to stroke John's already half-hard erection, at the same time, thrusting gently towards his body.
He knew now that he was ready.
'John. Fuck me.'
john gasped at this, and swiveled, staring into the intense green eyes.
'what, Sherlock? think about this, there's no pressure'
'i'm ready noooowww' he moaned pulling off his pyjamas that he didn't remember putting on.
before John could even think, let alone speak, Sherlock had managed to whip some lube out of nowhere, and was no proceeding to thrust a couple of his own fingers into himself.
predicting what John was about to say, he whispered between gasps, 'No...condom, John.' 'I'm...planning...for you... to be my... first... and... my ... last. I took... the liberty... to do... tests on... us both... so we're fine...' he finished.
'When the bloody hell did you do that?!' John shouted, pulling off his own clothes, his hands seemingly working of their own accord.
John watched as Sherlock finished with himself, stretching himself out, and with a confirming nod from Sherlock, he slowly thrust in, with a gasp escaping from both of them.
Sherlock bit into the pillow to stop himself gasping due to the searing pain, but as John waited, motionless, he pushed back, impatient.
the pain began to subside and they were soon both gasping in time to the thrusts.
In minutes, Sherlock came with a roar of 'John!', and that was enough to push him over the edge, too.
they both collapsed onto the bed, and as John turned to talk to Sherlock, he found himself a facing what looked like a sleeping angel, the only noise, the tiny grunts that were coming from the naked body pressed about against him.