The car finally pulled up outside of 221 Baker Street. The ride home from the hospital had dragged horribly long, especially with two the two Holmeses battling it out in the back seat. Sherlock was in a particularly dark mood because his pain killers were wearing off, and he wasn't allowed to have more until he consented to eating. Mycroft had made a joke about Sherlock's eating habits and that, of course, had launched World War Three. John and Greg, who were seated directly across from each there had simply rolled their eyes in mutual suffering,and let the two brothers battle it out. So when the driver had finally made it to the flat, it was with no small relief that John clamored out of the back of the car. It was a tad awkward, with his currently limited left arm, but he managed by himself, for which he was glad. Sherlock, on the other hand, somehow managed to retain his usual grace, even with a bum knee. John felt a small twinge of jealousy.
"Well this was fun," Mycroft sneered, "Do try and get yourself kidnapped again, Sherlock. Maybe next time we can make a weekend out of it." With that, the doors to the car shut, and it quickly departed. As soon as it turned the corner, Sherlock sagged into John.
"Joohn," he whined, "Jawwn why can't I have more medication. The doctor said that it was okay to use them like a crutch for the first few days, and it is still a first day; I very much wish to use them."
"No, Sherlock," John snapped, "the doctor also said that you needed to eat, and to make sure you don't take too many. You know what these pain killers could do to you..." John trailed off, mentally cursing himself for playing that card. He didn't want to bring up Sherlock's old addiction habits, but the git had been terribly annoying while John himself was in a considerable amount of pain. Plus, John didn't think he could handle it if Sherlock became addicted once more.
Sherlock shot John a murderous glance before straightening back up. He resolutely limped to the entrance to their building, unlocked the door, and did his best to swoop majestically up the stairs inside. The effect was marred by his inability to rely on his left knee, and instead looked rather like a small bird that hops everywhere, occasionally flapping its wings to regain balance. John found it rather enduring. He made his way up the stairs after Sherlock, chuckling quietly to himself the whole way.
When he reached the top, a new thought pushed its way to the forefront of his mind and barred all other logical thought from his mind. There was Sherlock, bent over the arm of the couch, arse in the air. John groaned internally, but it was lost in the wave of attraction that overcame him. The consulting detective had an absolutely gorgeous rear end to match his other gorgeous features, and John couldn't resist. The one functioning center of his brain told him he should stop. Tat he should go make tea, or something else to distract him; however, his body had different ideas. He unconsciously stepped forward so that he was directly behind Sherlock, no more than and inch between them.
"John, I must ins-" Sherlock said as he twirled up and around to face John. The doctor could see his eyes widen momentarily in surprise before their mouths clashed. The kiss was gentle at first. John wanted to start out nice, as he wasn't sure Sherlock had done any of this yet. John, surprisingly, broke away first.
"Sherlock, you are gorgeous!" he said breathlessly before he attacked once more. John could feel the tension in his partner's body, so in an attempt to relax him, John gentally nibbled the consulting detective's lower lip. Sherlock shuddered in surprise, then melted further into John's arms.
"Oh God," Sherlock said on the next break for air, "John, I love you so much." John moaned in agreement as they resumed kissing. Sherlock tentatively to charge by running his tongue over John's lip, beckoning to be let in. John allowed it with a small chuckle. The two men kissed passionately for what felt like hours, tongues wrestling, scoping out each other's mouths. But it was only minutes later that John pulled away with a moan and barely managed to ask "bed?"
Sherlock vehemently agreed, and pulled John into his room. Once inside, he hesitantly reached down and pulled off his shirt. John groaned in approval before ripping off his own shirt. He then pulled Sherlock into a more chaste version of their make out session in the living room. This time, he focused more on Sherlock's impossibly long neck, sucking and licking his way down to the other man's collarbone. Sherlock was barely able to contain his moaning at this point. His neck was a very sensitive area, and John was masterful with his tongue.
"Jo-John," Sherlock managed to get out, "John, I want- I want you to- to you know." The usually put together man was having trouble with coherency. Instead of trying to tell John, he simply reached down and started working on undoing John's zip.
"Oh God, you mean- you really want me to-" John said, pausing his kisses.
"Yes, John. I want you to fuck me." Sherlock said, moaning from the loss of the warm tongue on his neck. John groaned loudly at these words, then pushed Sherlock roughly down o the bed. He ripped his zip open and shoved his pants down. He flung them somewhere in the room, before leaning over and kissing Sherlock's neck again. He worked his way slowly down Sherlock's torso, licking and kissing and suck. Sherlock mewled helplessly under John. Finally, John made his way to Sherlock's waistband. He looked up at Sherlock, kiss-swollen lips paused just above his belly button, fingers poised on the button to Sherlock's zip.
"Are you sure Sherlock? We can take it easy the first time." John said sadly, as if he really didn't want that to be an option.
"Sherlock grabbed the back of John's head and pulled him back up into a deep kiss.
"John," he said when they paused for air, "If there is only one thing I'm sure about in this life, it is you. I love you, irrevocably. You are the only one I ever have, or will ever want. Of this I am sure. Of you I am sure. " John beamed down at him, then crushed their mouths together once more. As the were passionately snogging, John reached down to Sherlock's trousers and managed to get the zip fully undone. He then slowly slid down the long body beneath him, and slowly relieved Sherlock of his pants. Sherlock gave a small gasp as John threw his pants away, then turned to get his own pants back. Sherlock watched as John fetched his wallet from his pants and pulled out two small packets. He stared as John opened one pack and pulled out a condom. He groaned as John slowly, teasingly rolled the rubber over his semi-hard member. The consulting detective felt a twitch in him own cock when John turned back to him, looking absolutely ravenous.
*Yes I'm going to be very mean and leave it here as a cliffhanger. Muah ha ha! any way this is the first part of the one shots, and also where the M rating kicks in :) Enjoy! R and R!