I hope you guys like this chapter, I worked hard on it and I understand that not everyone will like it, but i hope you guys find it to be a good start. I was thinking about doing, at the most 6 more chapters, maybe more, maybe less. there is some more sexy time in this one. if you like this chapter let me know in the reviews. xoxo
Chapter 8
221B. Baker Street was never a dull place. There were constantly new, interesting clients and never a boring moment, unless of course there wasn't a challenging enough case to entertain the young detective. Then all hell could very possibly break loose. Which I suppose is what happened on this fateful night, in the darkened hallway of the not so quiet little flat on Baker Street. In this hallway stood two men, neither of them completely sure what was going on, or what they were doing, but none the less, still not ceasing any of their actions.
Sherlock started this experiment in complete control, he was testing John. But now, as he found himself up against John and enjoying every sensation, he felt less in control than ever before. In normal circumstances this would be awful for Sherlock; he wouldn't be able to cope with not being in control. Moriarty was an example of that. But this was John; John who he trusted with his life, who was his first real friend in a very, very long time, John, whom he cared about, deeply. So he let his hands slide down the other man's sides. If he was going to let someone else try and pleasure him, rather than do it himself. He was glade it was John, not because he was a doctor, but because he was John.
"Sherlock." John whispered as he broke from his flat mate's lips.
"We can't." He breathed heavily as he placed his hands on Sherlock's and tried to remove them from his waist. Sherlock on the other hand would not be budged. He might have relinquished some of his control, but he was not going to let go of John.
"This coming from the man who's erection is digging into my thigh." Sherlock stated blandly, he was a becoming irritated with John's inner conflictions. John blushed involuntarily.
"It's not my fault, you're too…Close…" John replied.
"I've been this close before." Sherlock retorted.
"Not from the front and not rubbing against me like thi- Uhnnnnn." John's sentence was cut short as Sherlock grew fed up and grinded against John again, his groin twitching against Sherlock's leg with need. Sherlock leaned in again toward John's face.
"Why do you keep saying no, even after the apparent reaction you have towards me? I just don't comprehend your frivolous conflictions. You even said it yourself the first time we met, that this was fine." Sherlock said.
"I said it was fine for you." John said shyly.
"Oh this is ridiculous." Sherlock growled and took John's mouth by siege again. He all but rammed his flat mate into the door again, pressing his entire body into John, feeling his friend spasm under the new pressure.
"T-That's not fair." John gasped as Sherlock broke away for a breath of air.
"No… What isn't fair is that one minute you are easy to figure out, with your shy blushes and your long glances and the next you're on a date with that girl." Sherlock spat bitterly.
"April? Is this what this is about?" John's voice raised in pitch, in surprise and intrigue.
"I have been watching you more closely this last month than I have watched anyone in my entire life. I know all your tells, I know when you feel hungry, nervous, angry and content. I thought I had finally understood you. I thought I could go back to solving interesting crimes and getting into dangerous situations with you. But then you, out of the blue, start to date that harlot! Then I doubt my findings. Did you ever stop to think that maybe, just maybe, I like that you like me?! I rarely am ever praised for my brilliance; Donavon and Anderson think me to be freaks. But then I met you, and you blatantly tell me how brilliant you think me to be. It was the first flattery I had received in a long time. But now, with that April girl… I may not be as brilliant as either one of us thought. " Sherlock began to scowl at the thought that April could make poor daft John think she was intelligent. She was obviously not that smart at all, but that didn't mean John wouldn't think so. It irritated Sherlock to think that John could be fooled in such a way. That John might leave because of his ignorance to facts.
"Sherlock…I-I didn't realize."
"Of course you didn't you're stupid." Sherlock frowned past John as he stared at the door. There was a long, silent pause that seemed to fill the entire flat. Then suddenly,
"I-I didn't have a good time with her." John blurted out. Slowly the taller man looked at John's terrified face.
"We went to her place and we started to…get intimate…and I couldn't…I didn't…I wasn't thinking about her, I was…thinking about…you." John's eyes rested awkwardly on Sherlock's electric blue eyes and for the first time since he had met him, John noticed that Sherlock's expression wasn't that of a deducing detective, or a speculative scientist. He was just a man, and it was apparent, even to the daft old doctor what Sherlock wanted to do. John took a deep breath, Sherlock had just told him that he wasn't against John's feelings toward him, in fact, Sherlock encouraged such feelings. He had said that he wasn't just a trivial thing in the detective's life. He even seemed to have been jealous of April. John knew what he wanted to do; he knew what Sherlock wanted to do as well. So what was stopping him? What was telling him that what he was feeling wasn't right? No one. No one important at least. The only one who was important was the person in front of him. Sherlock Holmes, the man who played his violin all hours of the night, who could identify God knows how many types of tobacco and the only consulting detective in the world. And right now, John was going to make Sherlock his consulting detective.
