Author's Note:
Sexy Johnlock time. I am loving all the reviews being left! Thank you so much!
Sherlock's words made John smile softly and he completely unbuttoned his husband's shirt, carefully pulling it off of his arms and tossing everything off the bed. "I am glad you are being positive," he whispered with a low chuckle, moving one hand to grab the bowl of frosting off of the bedside table. "If you want to stop, you know what to say." He gently met Sherlock's lips and moved one hand to grab one of his husband's wrists, pinning it above his head. His other hand moved to the bowl, dipping two fingers into the frosting and moving to smear it across Sherlock's neck and collarbone. John moved instantly to suck at it, licking at his skin and the icing with a small moan.
Sherlock smirked. "You worry too much my dear doctor." He complied with John's movements without resistance and tilted his chin down to watch his husband apply the icing to his body. He tried not to squirm too much, but God that felt good. His eyes closed in contentment, a small whimper coming from him as he bucked into the man above him.
John smiled slightly, pulling his mouth away to look at his husband. Clearly enjoying it, then. He let go of Sherlock's wrist and got more icing, spreading it down the center of Sherlock's chest and down to his bellybutton. "I will take that as a 'please don't stop,' shall I?" A small smirk tugged at his lips as he lowered his mouth to lick at the icing on Sherlock's scar, one hand running lightly up and down Sherlock's side.
Sherlock opened one eye to look up at John, a smirk returning to his lips. "If I had known it was so tantalizing, I would have made you put the whipped cream on me first instead of doing it to you." The smirk only got bigger but his smugness was quickly forgotten when he felt his husband's tongue on him once more. He squirmed again, fingers curling into the sheets a bit.
John hummed in response, pulling up when the trail was half gone. He moved slowly, pulling off the white jacket with a little difficulty and managing to get his vest and shirt unbuttoned before he needed to stop. His shoulder had certainly limited his range of motion and getting undressed completely was now a small problem. Sod it. Sherlock was below him, pay attention to him. He snapped back into action, mouth open on Sherlock's stomach as he lapped up the icing. "Going to tie you up," he whispered against his husband's skin. "That okay?"
Sherlock continued to writhe into John, any control he'd had was lost now. He glanced down to his husband and smirked again. "I told you I would let you if you did good at dancing, which you did, so I guess it will have to be won't it?" He was quiet for a thoughtful moment. "Do you want me to help you with your clothes before you do though?"
John visibly flinched at Sherlock's offer for help. This was supposed to be all about his husband. "I... Do you mind?" He asked softly, swallowing hard and moving a hand to trace his husband's jaw line. John Watson was typically a proud man but Sherlock had been quiet, had stopped moving, and had asked in such a... thoughtful way, really. "J-Just the shirt and vest," he added nervously. Had he already ruined Sherlock's night?
"Of course I don't mind," Sherlock commented as he began to help undress John out of the shirt and vest. When the task was done, he took hold of his husband's wrist lightly, his thumb running along it lightly. "Why so nervous my dear doctor?" Usually his partner was eager to have control. Confident. Strong. Focused. Now John seemed uncertain, like they had never made love before.
The gentle touch on his wrist made John relax slightly, his eyes finding Sherlock's in the semi-darkness. "I want everything to be perfect for you," he whispered sheepishly. Christ, that sounded horrid. Weak. "I want to make you happy and I am so scared I won't. For the rest of my life... what if I can't?" His voice broke at the end and he suddenly decided he needed to stop, needed to focus on giving Sherlock the pleasure he deserved. His head dropped and his mouth moved to the icing left above his husband's bellybutton. Better. Much better. Now he didn't have to tell Sherlock anything.
Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows in thought, trying to understand where all this doubt was suddenly coming from. It had never been an issue before and he wondered what had happened to start it. Was it his fault? Had he inadvertently done something wrong again? He released John's hand, as his body began to squirm once more. Should they be talking about this? It was hard to think clearly in the haze of excitement. He didn't want the feeling to end but his husband seemed distressed.
John managed to move one hand to get more icing, a small bit on the tip of his finger as he lifted it and ran it across Sherlock's lips. His head darted up instantly and he kissed his husband, his tongue moving into his mouth swiftly. It was clear he was scared and nervous. It had been sudden, really. They were married. What if Sherlock suddenly decided he didn't want to be married anymore? Decided that John was too boring for him? Would he just up and leave? In that moment he had decided to take advantage of the man beneath him as much as he could before that time came. He pulled away from the kiss slowly, licking at the small bit of icing that was left over.
Usually the excitement made everything else around him secondary, at best, but John's body language was…distracting. Sherlock returned the kiss but when it broke, he scrutinized his husband in silence for a moment. "John, what is wrong?" It was obvious something was bothering the other man.
Even in the dark Sherlock was a bloody genius. Should he tell his husband? It would certainly ruin the mood but if Sherlock could already tell... "I am afraid you will leave me," he whispered brokenly, glancing between them. Suddenly the contrast between Sherlock's black pants and his white ones was far more captivating. "What if I get too boring? Or you can't handle Amy? I... want to take advantage of the time I have with you now. I want to make you happy and I need this to go right, need you to really enjoy it."
Where had this come from? Had he done something to make John think that? Hadn't he proven himself to the other man time and again? Sherlock was getting nervous himself now. Had he said or done something to make his husband insecure? Would anything he did be enough to satisfy John, or would he constantly be striving to show his feelings? Well, this wasn't how he had imagined their wedding night ending. "John…you don't have to worry about that…" Sherlock trailed off because he wasn't sure there were words to make his partner feel better.
Oh. No. The silence had certainly alarmed him. "Sherlock, it isn't you. I promise," John said quickly, a hand moving to run soothingly into his husband's hair. "It's... just me, alright? You are perfect and interesting... and I am just me. And tonight while I was dancing with you I realized that I am the luckiest man alive. Typically, when that happens, something goes wrong. I don't want to lose you." He gently met his husband's lips, rocking his hips forward slowly.
Sherlock nodded slightly, still a bit uncertain. Why was understanding relationships so difficult? He could tell what someone ate for lunch based off a stain on their shirt or what someone's job was based off the color ink on their hand. But being with someone else was constantly throwing him for a loop. He returned the kiss and his worries were temporarily forgotten as he pressed back into John eagerly.
Perfect. Distracted. John's hand moved back into the bowl of icing, spreading it eagerly down Sherlock's sides. His other hand grabbed his husband's, squeezing it and pinning it to the mattress as he started to lick the icing off of his partner's torso. He tilted his body slightly, nudging Sherlock's legs apart so he could settle between them. "Love you," he whispered against Sherlock's side, just above his hip bone.
Sherlock complied to John's movements, completely distracted now. "Love you too." He squirmed into his husband with a whimper of desire. More often than not he teased his partner during sex and he wondered if John was going to do that to him tonight. It seemed likely. His husband seemed to enjoy making him beg and squirm.
John finished his little trail of icing and slowly lifted his head, licking his lips with a grin "Want me to keep going?" He asked softly, a hand moving to palm Sherlock's penis through his pants. "Oh, God, Sherlock." His hand pressed forward slowly and then backed off. It wouldn't do John any good to get his husband all worked up this early. He moved his hand to undo Sherlock's pants, tugging at them gently. "So beautiful." He scooped up some more icing and ran it along the waistline of Sherlock's pants, his tongue lapping it up slowly.
Sherlock squirmed below John earnestly. He was feeling a bit anxious and even feisty. A devious thought came to mind and he smirked at himself. "What happened to tying me up? If you don't I just might take away your control, my dear doctor." The smirk got bigger as he lifted his head to look down at his husband.
John growled and whipped his head up, narrowing his eyes. "Hush," he said softly, moving up his husband's body and gently meeting his lips. "Can't rush this," he said softly as his hips pressed against Sherlock's and pinned him to the mattress.
Sherlock returned the kiss, nipping at John's bottom lip. "Make me," he replied with another smirk. He continued to buck into his husband as best he could being pinned to the bed. He brought a hand up to scratch at John's back.
"Ah, shit." John arched slightly into Sherlock's scratches, wincing when the ones from the previous night were aggravated. So much for complete control, he thought wryly. He reached up and grabbed Sherlock's bicep, yanking his arm away and pinning it to the bed. "I am a bit stronger than you now," he whispered as be nipped at his husband's bottom lip. His hand moved up Sherlock's arm to his wrist. "If you behave this will turn out really well for you, Sherlock." He shifted and grabbed Sherlock's other wrist, bringing them above his head and holding them in one hand.
The smirk remained in place, despite his prone position. "And if I misbehave?" It had been awhile since Sherlock had resisted John's control. He had forgotten how much fun it was. How much he enjoyed his partner asserting authority and power over him. The easiest way to get it was to struggle against his husband. It was a guilty pleasure of his he supposed, but he couldn't help how excited it made him. The only thing he could do right now was squirm feebly into the man above him.
"If you misbehave I think I might be a bit too tired to continue," John whispered, moving to nip at Sherlock's ear. "May just leave you here." He pressed his hips down into Sherlock with a soft moan before reaching behind his husband's head, yanking at the extra sheet left for them. "Won't get to see what I had planned." His hand squeezed Sherlock's wrists for a moment. "Behave." He growled against Sherlock's lips.
"No you won't. You want this just as bad as I do, my dear doctor. In fact, I would even go as far to say, you just might want it more," Sherlock replied, the smirk never leaving his lips. He began nibbling on John's lower lip since it was close enough for him to reach. He managed to squirm a little more, obviously excited by everything going on at the moment.
"I hate you," John whispered, pulling away from Sherlock's mouth. He pressed his body weight down forcefully, leaning forward slightly to start tying his husband's wrists together above his head. "Don't get to touch me," he whispered as he yanked at the sheet and smirked down at Sherlock. "Want to keep fighting me?" He asked lowly, moving so his lips were just above his husband's.
"No you don't. You love this and you know it." Sherlock only smirked bigger, his light eyes filled with amusement and mischief. He pressed his body into John's as much as he could, considering he was pretty well pinned between his partner above him and the bed under him. He struggled against the restraints slightly, just for show but not to actually trying to slip them. He nipped at John's chin, lightly.
John let out a soft moan and shifted, glancing at Sherlock's tied wrists before moving his hands to yank at his husband's pants. "I never fight you," he whispered as he placed a kiss against Sherlock's stomach, arching slightly so most of his body was off of Sherlock. "But I do want to hear you beg." His hand slid to cup his husband through his underwear, squeezing gently.
"Well maybe you should," Sherlock replied, with a raised eyebrow. He would have commented on the last part, but once John had his lips and hands on him he couldn't remember his comeback anymore. His body writhed with desire and excitement, causing his wrists to tug slightly at the sheet tied around them. The loss of being able to use his hands only encouraged his already eager state and he struggled a little harder reflexively. "Please?" He breathed out, a whimper of yearning escaping shortly after.
"Oh God, yes," John whispered, dropping his head and pressing his forehead against Sherlock's lower stomach. He sat up and moved his hands to his own pants, hurriedly undoing them and yanking them down with his underwear in one movement. He shifted, falling beside Sherlock on the bed and lolling his head to the side to gaze at his husband, taking a deep breath and smiling like a fool. "Like it, then?"
Sherlock turned his head to look at John, his lips twisted into crooked smile. "I would like it better if you were still on top of me. If you make me wait too long, I'll slip out of the bed sheets and just take care of myself. Don't forget, I got out of those handcuffs. You wouldn't want me to dislocate my wrist again, would you?" The smile twisted into a smirk.
"I wouldn't like that, no." John turned slowly on to his side and moved one hand to gently finish pulling Sherlock's pants and underwear off. "But what would be the fun in that?" He gently met Sherlock's lips as a hand grabbed the bottle of lube. "Bit pushy for being tied up, don't you think?" After a moment of studying his husband, he moved to straddle Sherlock's hips, his left arm wrapped behind him. Soft moans escaped his mouth as he prepared himself, his head thrown back as his moans got progressively louder.
Sherlock's body twitched yet again, as his pants slid all he down. "Perhaps, but I have got to have a little fun too." He arched a brow and looked down at John with a grin. "Jesus, John. What do you need me for, if you enjoy your own hand so much?" Despite being tied up and at the mercy of his husband, he was feeling rather cocky tonight.
John's right hand moved shakily to rest on Sherlock's cheek, pausing for a moment before turning his husband's head and pressing it into the pillow. He was trying to focus, the last thing he needed was Sherlock being a cocky bastard. "Keep that up and I will," he paused to suck in a breath, tilting his head forward with a small whimper. "I'll leave you like this and finish myself off." His hips rocked forward slightly and let out a loud moan.
Sherlock couldn't help but smirk again. "We have already be over that John. No you won't." Anything else he was going to say was quickly forgotten when his husband moved into him. He pressed back into his partner, another whimper escaping his lips. For a moment, he didn't remember his hands were tied up and he moved to grip John, desiring closer contact. His wrists tugged at the restraints, as a reminder. "Please?" He asked again, his voice sounding a little more desperate than he intended.
"Oh, but my hand is so much better," John said with a small gasp, his hips thrusting forward quickly. "Shit." he took several deep breaths and glanced up at his husband's tied wrists. "Bit needy now, are we?" His stomach tensed as a low moan escaped his chest, his bottom lip tugged between his teeth. "Yes. Ah, Jesus." His hips started a slow, shallow rhythm against Sherlock.
There wasn't a lot Sherlock could do except continue writhe into the man above him as best he could. His eyes closed as he let out a moan of pleasure. How much begging would he have to do? John always seemed to like it, especially when his partner was in control like this. "Want you. Need you," he whispered, fingers digging into the sheets tied to his wrists so he could at least claw at something.
John smirked and moved his hand, getting some lube and moving to gently stroke Sherlock's cock. "But a few minutes ago you said you would just do this yourself." He took a deep breath and moved to gently meet his husband's lips. After a few strong strokes his hand stilled and he shifted, taking another breath before slowly lowering himself on to Sherlock's cock. "Oh, Christ." He stopped when he was sitting on Sherlock's hips, rocking forward slightly and letting out a loud shout. "Sherlock. Ah, yes."
"L-lied," Sherlock managed to get out. He squirmed more excitedly into John's touch and a moan escaped him when he entered his husband. The grip of the sheets tightened, turning his knuckles white from the strain. With effort he managed to match his partner's pace, even though there was an itching desire to start a rough and fast pace.
The moment he felt Sherlock move beneath him, John moved a hand to roughly grab Sherlock's hip and pin it to the bed. "No," he whispered into Sherlock's ear. "Don't move." His hips rocked forward again and he hesitantly let go of his partner's hip. "Move and I will stop." He finally lifted his hips, moving up slowly and coming down at the same pace. He closed his eyes and rocked his hips forward in three fast, rough movements, his moans loud.
No moving? At all? What the hell was he supposed to do? Sherlock tried to hold still but his body was having a hard time cooperating. He began curling and uncurling his toes and fingers, because it was practically impossible to not react from John's thrusting. He was spending more time concentrating on being still than on his husband's movements.
"Talk to me. It will help you focus," John whispered softly, biting down on his husband's ear softy. "Tell me how it feels and what you want." Another three thrusts, rough and fast. A small grunt echoed through the room with each one. "Focus on me. C'mon, Sherlock," he met the other man's lips gently.
"I want you to let me fucking move," Sherlock replied bluntly. Asking someone not to move during sex was like asking a baby not to cry when it was hungry. Well at least to him, or maybe he just wasn't that submissive. Even when he'd had John cuffed to the bed, he had allowed the other man movement. This was most unfair.
John froze for a moment, glancing down at Sherlock and taking a moment to study his face. When planning the night, he thought it would be interesting but it clearly wasn't working out. "F-Fine." He nodded hesitantly and moved his hips slowly, lifting and dropping again before rocking forward. "Sorry. I'm sorry."
Fuck. John was already feeling insecure and worried about tonight. Had he screwed up the moment for his husband? Sherlock would have run a hand down his partner's face reassuringly if he could. "It's fine…" He said softly. What could he do to make it right? Not move? Or had he already ruined everything already? He remained still, as he forced himself relax.
John gently met Sherlock's lips as he kept a slow rhythm, pulling away and meeting his husband's gaze. "You can move," he whispered with a weak, quick smile. If it had been upsetting enough for Sherlock to mention it then John saw no point in forcing him to stay still. He wanted Sherlock to be happy. "Please move," he nearly begged.
Sherlock nodded slightly, his body moving to match the pace set by John. "I love you," he said as he looked up to his husband. He hoped he could make things right for the other man. Usually things happened so easily for them, in regards to sex. Maybe they were trying to hard? Relax. Don't over think it.
"Love you too," John whispered softly has he gently picked up the pace of his hips. "You feel wonderful. S-Sherlock," his voice hitched and he met his husband's gaze intently. "Harder," he growled, trying to fix their earlier moment and trying to get Sherlock to keep moving. "Jesus, harder, please."
Sherlock smirked. "Why look it here, the man in control asking for something. Wonders never cease." The smirk got bigger, his eyes bright with amusement. "I seem to be all tied up right now. You might have to make me." Better. Much better. Fall back into a familiar routine. He continued the same pace for now just to be stubborn, despite the fact that harder thrusts sounded very appealing.
Dirty bastard. John narrowed his eyes with a small smirk and pressed roughly into Sherlock, a hand moving to scratch at his chest. Using Sherlock's main weakness seemed like the best option at the moment. His fingernails dug harder into his husband's skin as he slowed his hips with a knowing smile. He lowered his mouth to Sherlock's ear. "Harder. That's an order." He tugged at his dog tags hanging around Sherlock's neck.
Yep. That would about do it. Sherlock moaned as his breathing began to increase and become uneven. "Yes Sir," he managed to get out. He continued a faster and harder pace, struggling to maintain a rhythm in his excitement. He turned his head so he could kiss his husband, nipping on the other man's lip. He moaned into the kiss, his wrists straining against the bed sheets some as his body rocked up and down.
Perfect. Why in the world hadn't he tried that before? John gasped into the kiss and managed a weak grin. "Fuck, yes." He sloppily started another kiss, stopping his hips for a moment and taking Sherlock's rough thrusts with soft grunts. "So good." He let out a loud shout.
Sherlock continued to kiss John; it was hungry and needy like his tempo. "John…" He trailed off, gasping for an intake of air. He continued his rough pace, quite enjoying. He hoped his stamina wouldn't give out too soon. He decided to press his luck and began thrusting with a little more pressure and speed. "Oh God…" He breathed out, his back arching a bit. Just a little longer. He wanted to make it last a bit longer.
Mind-blowing. That was literally the only word that could be used to describe what was going on. "Sherlock," John shouted his husband's name and moved a hand to grab one of Sherlock's. His hips moved as frantically as the man below him, a bit off tempo. "Don't stop. Please, don't." He moaned and buried his head into the crook of Sherlock's neck, now clutching desperately at his husband's hand.
As soon as he felt John's hand in his, he gripped it tightly. Sherlock continued the pace as long as he could but eventually he couldn't contain himself anymore. His body tensed as he came with a loud moan, his body relaxing immediately afterward. He tried to say something to his husband, but all that came out was gasping breaths. His chest rose and fell rapidly and he became aware of the pain in his chest. Worth it. Definitely. He closed his eyes, as he tried to concentrate on breathing normally again.
John rolled off of Sherlock immediately, groaning slightly at the loss of contact. "That was good." He rolled on to his stomach to hide his erection from his husband. Everything had been for Sherlock, he didn't want the other man focused on anything else. He smiled and lifted a hand to rest on Sherlock's stomach. "Deep breaths," he whispered as he moved to place a kiss on his husband's side.
"…yeah…'sgood…" Sherlock agreed. His breathing was finally getting some form of normalcy. He opened his eyes and turned his head so he could look at John. He tugged lightly at the bindings on his wrists. "If you undo these I can get you off or you going to keep me tied up all night?" He smirked a bit, as he shifted so the bed sheets didn't tug too much on his skin.
"I'm fine," John replied as he shifted slightly, keeping himself on his stomach as he easily untied the sheet from around Sherlock's wrists. "That was all for you, I am fine." He placed a soft kiss on his husband's chest and curled into his side. "And you really seemed to enjoy it so it was worth it. I think you might actually get some sleep tonight." He made sure to keep his hips away from Sherlock's body, careful to not focus on anything but his husband and how happy he clearly was.
Sherlock inspected his wrists briefly, no real damage. Just a bit sore and red, however his body had endured much more damage so it wasn't something he was really even worried about. He snuggled into John, an arm wrapping around his husband to pull him closer still. "You sure?" He tilted his head slightly and gave his partner a kiss on the top of the head.
Of course John wasn't sure. He was a man with a hard-on who had just been shagged by his husband. He wanted to get off but he had planned on spoiling Sherlock. It had worked. "Yeah," he said softly as his hand moved from his husband's stomach to rest over his heart. "Planned tonight around you. I don't matter."
Sherlock gave a snort. "Yes you do." He pulled John closer still, his head resting on his husband's good shoulder. His other hand reached over their bodies, as he groped around to find his partner's erection. Once he found the cock, he began a slow but steady rhythm. He was tired and his wrists were sore, so he it was all he could manage at the moment. Hopefully it would be enough.
"Bloody mind reader," John hissed as he pressed into Sherlock's hand with a soft groan. His hips started to meet Sherlock's hand each time, his chest moving in quick and shallow breaths. He had been keeping himself calm while they made love and the small time lapse had made him sensitive. "Sherl-" His body tensed as he came messily between them, sucking in deep breaths. It hadn't taken much. How embarrassing. "Have a good night then?" He smiled warmly as he curled into Sherlock's side, craning his neck to gently met his husband's lips.
Sherlock smirked. "Deducing is what I do." Once he got John off, he let go of the penis and wiped the mess off on the sheet. "Yes. It was good. We should do that again sometime." He stretched his lanky frame and then snuggled back into his husband. Usually sexual acts didn't leave him tired, but he was feeling now. Maybe a quick nap. Was that okay on the first night of being married? Or was there more to expect?
John hummed in agreement and yawned, clicking his teeth together as his mouth closed. "Want to make love again in your secret room," he whispered into his husband's chest. It had been wonderful, he had felt closer to Sherlock the entire time. Closer than he'd ever felt. "Sherlock, 'm tired." He closed his eyes and pressed as close as he could into his partner, shifting to yank a blanket over them. "Nap. Wake me up when you are done napping," he smiled tiredly and moving his hand across his husband's chest, sliding it up to tangle in his hair.
Sherlock thought for a moment that John wanted to go back down to the secret passages this instant. Oh. Whew. Good. He was nowhere near ready to go again. He agreed readily about the nap and snuggled in closer to his husband. His body relaxed and his breathing came to rise and fall slowly as he drifted off to sleep.