Author Notes: Finally, the last chapter of this story and I promise you that it's filled with love, happiness and smut (and a few insecurities, of course.^^). :)
Enjoy it and let me know how you liked it! =)
Laughter and Kisses
John was beautiful.
Sherlock traced the lines around John's lips with his thumb and smiled, when his boyfriend leaned into the contact. Even while still asleep, John was more affectionate towards him than anyone, Sherlock had ever met. Which was good, since Sherlock wouldn't have wanted anyone else to cuddle him on the couch or snog him in the stairway, after the conclusion of a complicated case. No, Sherlock mused with a contented smile, he had only ever wanted to share such intimate moments with John. He couldn't imagine kissing another man, not now and not ever. For him, there was only John and... John was fine with that. He hadn't once ridiculed Sherlock for his inexperience or his dreams. Instead, his boyfriend had even made sure that Sherlock didn't throw away his first time in an act of desperation.
A hot blush graced Sherlock's cheeks, when he remembered how pathetic he had acted, after their last case - four days ago. Not only had he completely dismissed John's feelings for him, but Sherlock had also allowed Anderson - that babbling idiot - to get to him. As if it mattered what the incompetent fool called him. Sherlock had never been ashamed of being a virgin - in every sense of the word - and he should have ignored Anderson. Instead he had... No, Sherlock scolded himself as he noticed how his mind went in circles about his ridiculous actions, once more. Nothing bad had come of it. If anything, Sherlock was even more certain about John's feelings for him, after their conversation. He had to let go of this embarrassing episode and instead concentrate on the present. On John. Next to Sherlock, in his - their - bed. It was all that mattered after all.
Sherlock placed a chaste kiss to the corner of John's lips and smiled, when his boyfriend sighed contently in his sleep, but didn't wake up from the brief contact. That in itself spoke of such an immense trust that Sherlock was momentarily stunned, before a playful smirk crossed his features and he pressed another kiss to John's jaw.
"I wonder where else I can kiss you, without waking you," Sherlock murmured quietly to himself and then went to satisfy his curiosity.
Sherlock couldn't call it an experiment, since he hadn't formulated any hypothesis as to when his ministrations would rose John from his slumber. Somehow, it was freeing that he didn't need the excuse of an experiment anymore to be close to John. He was allowed to kiss, cuddle and hug his boyfriend, whenever he felt like it and as long as no protests were forthcoming- John had been very clear about these points. Therefore, Sherlock didn't think that John would mind a few kisses, even while he was sleeping. Still, Sherlock decided to draw an invisible line at John's navel, if his boyfriend hadn't woken up by the time Sherlock reached this part of his anatomy. No matter how welcoming John was of his kisses, Sherlock wouldn't touch John's private parts, without his explicit consent. With that in mind, Sherlock kissed a trail from John's jaw to his right collarbone and then back up again. His lips tingled from the contact with the smooth skin and he hurried to repeat the action on John's other side.
By the time, Sherlock had kissed - and licked - every line of John's scar, he was straddling his boyfriend's lap. A leg on each side of John's hips to prevent himself from tumbling on John, while Sherlock leaned over him for better access. At least, that was how Sherlock justified his new position to himself, although it was almost impossible to deny how arousing... No, that wasn't right. Sherlock took a shaking breath to steady his racing heartbeat and ignored how his cock twitched between his legs, when his nose filled with John's unique scent. This wasn't about getting off - at least, it hadn't crossed Sherlock's mind until now - but about tasting and kissing John. Especially, since John hadn't agreed to any sexual activities and Sherlock wasn't going to destroy the trust, John placed in him. If John was awake, it would be a different matter, but as it was... With a quiet sigh, Sherlock made to sit up and get out of bed to deal with his erection, when strong arms grabbed his shoulders and pulled him forward.
"Whew," was all Sherlock managed, when the air was pressed from his lungs and he landed on top of John. A groan, mixed with a chuckle, echoed from John and Sherlock nearly pouted at the sound. "You are awake," he deduced and propped himself up on his elbows to loam over his grinning boyfriend.
"Did you really think I could sleep through your kisses?" John placed one of his own just above Sherlock's cupid's bow. "I was awake since you focused your whole attention on me."
Sherlock frowned at that. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"And spoil all the fun?!" John chuckled and shook his head. "I really wanted to know what you would do and besides, it was nice. I rather like it, when you kiss me."
Sherlock rolled his eyes at John's childish tone, but couldn`t help smiling at the same time. It pleased him to know that John enjoyed his kisses and he leaned forward just to steal another one from his boyfriend.
This time, it wasn't a chaste press of lips to lips, but a passionate dance of tongues, teeth and mouths, when John slung his arms around Sherlock's back and drew him more closely on top of him. They were both naked, but for their shorts, and the feeling of John's bare chest against his sent sparks of arousal through Sherlock's body. His cock strained against the silky fabric of its prison and when Sherlock moved against John's body, an answering bulge nudged his thigh. Sherlock broke their kiss with a gasp and hid his face in the crook of John's neck, when the realisation hit him and words spilled from his mouth in a rush. "I want you to... make love to me."
John tensed underneath him and for a horrible moment, Sherlock feared that his wish would be denied and he prepared himself for an argument, when fingers ran tenderly through his curls. "Are you sure?" John's hoarse voice sounded next to his ear and Sherlock nodded against his shoulder. "Yes, I am sure."
And he was. God, Sherlock had been sure that he wanted to sleep with John, for the better part of two years by now. He wasn't going to pretend that he had loved John from the second he had lain eyes on him... No, that would be pathetic and dishonest. Still, Sherlock couldn't deny that he had fallen in love with his flatmate in the first couple of months, they had lived together and shortly after he had started to imagine how sex with John would be. Of course, not even Sherlock had been able to deduce how John's hands would feel, while they roamed over his back or how his elevated heartbeat would lead to an increase of Sherlock's pulse. All these little details were only revealed to Sherlock now and he wanted to catalogue them all and file them away in John's wing of his Mind Palace, but at the same time... Sherlock just wanted to feel. He wanted to bask in the warmth that radiated from John's body and watch how his pupils dilated, when Sherlock kissed him and... he wanted to learn how John sounded when he came.
His cock gave an interested twitch at the last thought and Sherlock moaned quietly against John's skin. Yes, he definitely wanted to sleep with John. Not only was his body more than eager to experience relief by the hands of his boyfriend, but Sherlock was also certain that he was mentally ready to take this step. A step, Sherlock had never taken before, but he knew that it would be fine with John. More than fine, it would be... great.
"What do you want, love?" John's stubble scratched against Sherlock's skin, when his boyfriend pressed a kiss to his left cheekbone. "I told you, what I want. I want you to make love to me." Sherlock was relieved, when his steady voice didn't betray his nervousness at the prospect of becoming intimate with John.
"Yes." John's breath tickled Sherlock's throat. "But I was speaking about foreplay. I am not going to skip right to the main event. Especially not, when you didn't give me heads-up, so that I could plan our first time together and make it perfect."
"Perfection is an illusion of the human mind, which is completely subjective and will never be achieved by anyone or anything, because most people consider perfection as impossible to gain and therefore wouldn't label anything as such." Sherlock propped himself up on his forearms and gazed down in John's loving gaze. "If you want to plan something more special for our first time together, then I'll accept it, though." And he would, even if it would kill him to leave John now, so that they could both deal with their erections alone. After all, this wasn't just about Sherlock, it was about John as well and if his boyfriend needed a special occasion or setting for their first time, then Sherlock would never...
"No." John stroked Sherlock's biceps soothingly. "I don't think that I can come up with something that would be considered special by both of us. I don't imagine that you want to have rose petals on the bed and candles on the floor." Sherlock shuddered at the mental image and John laughed quietly. "And I doubt that I would be able to get turned on, if I decorated our flat with skulls and poisonous plants. This," John nodded to both of them and included their bed in the gesture as well. "Is perfect, because we both want it, now and I just want to know how to make it good for you. What have you always imagined, when you thought of your first time? Of us together?"
Sherlock blushed - he blushed like a goddamn maiden - but he held John's patient eyes with his as he shared his secret dreams with him. "I want to kiss and touch you... everywhere, until I can recognize every part of you from taste alone. And I want you to do the same to me and then," Sherlock licked his dry lips and grinned, when he noticed how John's eyes followed the movement of his tongue. "I want you to breach me with your fingers and stretch me, until I am ready for you and then I want to... ride you."
Sherlock was aware that his speech hadn't been up to his usual verbal standards, but that didn't explain the frown that creased John's forehead at his last words. Maybe, John didn't want Sherlock to be on top, because he feared that he would be seen as less dominant in this position, although no one but Sherlock and him would know of it. Before, Sherlock could take his wishes back, though, John chimed in. "If you ride me, then... the penetration in this position is deeper than in most others and... I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."
Sherlock shook his head and pressed a quick kiss to John's lips. "I know all that and I want... that's why I want it. The imagination of taking you as deep as possible..."
His words were interrupted by an animalistic groan, when John grabbed Sherlock's upper arms and pushed him back on the bed. He followed a second later and Sherlock sighed happily, when John's warm weight settled on top of him. "I'll make you feel fantastic, you wonderful, brilliant and mad genius," John promised with a growl and crushed their mouths together in a bruising kiss.
Sherlock didn't doubt his boyfriend for even a second, when John pressed his thigh against Sherlock's clothed erection and tore a groan from his lips. He already felt fantastic and the feeling only intensified, when skilled fingers found his nipples and...
"Holy, fucking Jesus!"
Sherlock hadn't known about nerves connecting the pink buds on his chest to his cock, but obviously he had to update his anatomy knowledge, after John had just sent waves of pure pleasure through his whole body by...sucking on his nipples.
"Sensitive." John's twinkling eyes looked up at Sherlock. "I like that." And then he repeated his former action.
Sherlock was a panting mess by the time, John deemed his work finished. His nipples were throbbing in an exquisite pain-pleasure combination and Sherlock only regretted that he wasn't able to close his own lips around the swollen buds to taste John's salvia on them.
"God, you are gorgeous." John pressed a last kiss to Sherlock's right nipple and then sat up to free them both from their boxers.
Sherlock's mouth went dry as he laid eyes on John's hard cock for the first time. It was slightly above average in length for a British - about eight inches, if Sherlock was to trust his hazy mind - but thicker than Sherlock had anticipated. Or maybe, that were just his nerves speaking, when he realised that this part of John would be inserted in a part of him. Still, that didn't mean that Sherlock was afraid as his eyes wandered from the pink head of John's cock - foreskin already retreaded - over his thick length to his testicles, which were nestled in between blond curls. Nervous, yes, that he admitted freely - at least to himself - but he knew that there was no reason to fear anal sex with John. Sherlock knew the mechanics behind the act, therefore he was aware that he wasn't at risk of obtaining any injuries as long as John was careful... and Sherlock didn't doubt that for even a second. He trusted John, with his life.
"You are so beautiful. All pale skin and lovely angles. I think I could spend the next couple of hours just looking at you." A low chuckle fell from Sherlock's lips and washed his nervousness away. "I might not be an expert, but I doubt that this would do much for you."
John threw a cheeky grin his way and bent down to place an open mouthed kiss just above Sherlock's hipbone. "You underestimate your own allure, but I won't argue with you, if you have something else in mind." Sherlock smiled at the teasing tone - so familiar - and then nodded in the direction of John's erect cock. "I want to taste you."
It was hard to see in the faint light that flickered through the curtains, but Sherlock was certain that John's pupils dilated farther at his words. "Yes, please."
Some scrambling on the bed took place, until John leaned back against the pillows, with Sherlock sitting in between his spread thighs. At this distance, John's cock appeared even thicker than before and Sherlock licked his dry lips as he inched closer. He wanted to taste John so badly, to wrap his mouth around the head of his cock and...
"John," Sherlock started tentatively and stroked the soft flesh of John's thighs to get his attention. "I don't... You know that I have never and I don't..." Sherlock gulped and averted his eyes. He knew - theoretically - how to give a blowjob and that he shouldn't use his teeth - if he wasn't told otherwise - but he didn't have the first clue how he was supposed to go about it in practice. His gag reflex wouldn't allow him to take John in deeply and that was rather the point of a good blowjob, wasn't it? Sherlock took a shaky breath and tried to calm his racing heart. It didn't work, his mind only came up with more scenarios of how Sherlock could screw up his first blowjob. The worst was that John would probably know how terrible Sherlock's technique was, before he even realised it himself. After all, John was experienced and he would be annoyed at Sherlock's lacking skills and...
"Hey, sweetheart." Gentle fingers touched his face and forced his chin up to meet worried blue eyes. "You don't have to do that, if you don't want to." Sherlock shook his head and bit down on his lower lip. "I want to, but... I don't know how... I want to satisfy you and I don't..."
"Shhh." John soothed Sherlock's bottom lip with his thumb and leaned up to press a quick kiss to it. "You don't have to be perfect. No one is the first time - or the second, third or ever - but that's fine. Just do, what you feel like doing. I guarantee you. I'll enjoy it."
Some of his panic melted away at John's words, but Sherlock still frowned slightly, even when he reached out with his right hand to close around the shaft of John's cock. "How do you know that you'll enjoy it?" The smile that lit up John's face could only be described as brilliant. "Because it's you and knowing that is almost enough to make me come right away."
"Don't you dare," Sherlock growled and John giggled. Panic and fear fled the scene and Sherlock felt himself smile, before he brought his face on a level with John's crotch. Musky scent filled his nostrils and Sherlock inhaled deeply as he nuzzled the blond curls. They smelled of sex and male and... John.
Sherlock sighed happily and continued his exploration. John's scent got even stronger behind his balls and a tentative lick gave him the first hint of John's purest taste - and pulled a groan from his boyfriend at the same time. Feeling more confident, Sherlock licked a line from the right testicle to the left one and was rewarded with a needy whimper. A whimper that increased in volume, when Sherlock kissed his way from the base to the head of the proud erection. He teased the sensitive skin there with the tip of his tongue and moaned quietly, when he gathered the first few drops of pre-come from John's throbbing length. It was bitter - too bitter for Sherlock's liking - but he didn't mind, because the taste was a part of John and that alone made it so much sweeter... not literally of course, but...
"Fuck, Sherlock!"
Ah, so sucking on the head of John's cock and fondling his balls at the same time led to an increase of swear words. Sherlock grinned and repeated his actions, only this time he put more of John's cock into his mouth.
"God, you... Christ!" The cursing spurred Sherlock farther on and he hollowed his cheeks and sucked at John's cock like it had been advised in an article. Obviously, the women's magazine had been accurate - for once - since John's hips bucked at the combined stimulation and Sherlock... chocked.
He barely managed to withdraw from John, without scratching him with his teeth as he coughed from the invasion of his throat. At least, Sherlock hoped that he hadn't accidentally hurt John in his hurry to get away from his cock. And even if he hadn't, Sherlock had just butchered up his first blowjob and John wouldn't be happy about it. No matter how often John told him that Sherlock didn't have to be perfect, he would still be disappointed and he wouldn't want to continue now and...
"I' m sorry, bee." Strong arms drew Sherlock on top of John's warm body, while gentle lips placed kisses on his forehead. "I should have had better control. I didn't mean to choke you." John's index finger traced the line of his throat. "Are you hurt?"
Sherlock shook his head. "No, but... bee?" He had actually meant to ask if John was angry about the failed blowjob, but he didn't want to draw more attention to it than was necessary. Besides, it didn't appear like John was angry with him and maybe, Sherlock thought tentatively, there was nothing to be angry about. Maybe, it was fine to fail at something new once in a while. John had implied as much and since he was still calling Sherlock by endearments and holding him close, this had to be the correct conclusion.
Fingers played with his curls and Sherlock felt the rumble in John's chest, when he spoke next. "You like bees and I just thought... don't you like it?" Sherlock frowned and then shook his head. "No, it's fine. Bees are amazing creatures and I' m honored that you think me worthy of the title."
"Idiot." Sherlock stole the word from John's lips and let go of his remaining trepidation, when John returned the kiss. Nothing was ruined. They were still fine and...
"Oh!" An undignified gasp was pulled from Sherlock's lips as John reversed their position and he found his boyfriend loaming over him with a predatory smile on his face. "Do you trust me, love?"
What a stupid question! Sherlock rolled his eyes at it. "Of course, I do."
"Good, then turn around." Sherlock blinked slowly up at John, unsure what he had in store for him, but he did as he was told. He was sure that John wouldn't do anything that Sherlock wouldn't like... or at least, he wouldn't continue if Sherlock signaled his discomfort to him. With that in mind, Sherlock fluffed the pillow and turned his head to the side as John straddled his waist.
"Relax," the reassuring voice whispered into his ear and Sherlock all but melted into the mattress, when John kissed his way from the cervical vertebra to his first lumar vertebra and back up again. The ministrations sent sparks of lazy arousal through his body and by the time, John kissed his right buttock, Sherlock felt like a content puddle of ice-cream, in the summer, in John's hands. It felt fantastic. John's skilled hands roaming all over his body, his sinful lips leaving marks on Sherlock's pale skin - note, he needed two mirrors later - and his wicked tongue...
"Holy mother of... Fuck!" Heat flushed his face at his own outburst. Sherlock hadn't wanted to get so vocal and he certainly hadn't intended to curse, but John's tongue in the crease between his buttocks was just too much of a temptation. Luckily, John appeared rather pleased by his outburst, if his content chuckle was anything to go by.
"That was only the beginning, sweetheart." Sherlock didn't get more of a warning, before John dived between his ass cheeks once more. And - God - it was torture and heaven at once. Sherlock had never suspected that his arse was so sensitive, but every touch of John's tongue shot straight to his groin and turned him slowly - but steadily - into a whimpering mess. Sherlock didn't know how long he would be able to stand the sweet torture, when the tip of a wet tongue pushed past the ring of muscle around his anus and almost pushed him over the edge.
"John!"
Sherlock clenched the covers between his hands and held onto his control for dear life, although it was slipping away farther from him with every second of John's tongue in his hole. He was torn between rubbing himself against the mattress and pushing his arse back into John's face. Both options sounded fantastic, although they would certainly made him come in a matter of seconds and Sherlock didn't want to come yet. He wanted... he wanted... God, it was hard to think, while John's hot breath tickled his slick hole, but Sherlock had to get his wits about him. At least for a minute, but... Oh, John was kneading his buttocks and sucking at his hole and Sherlock's cock throbbed between his legs and he wanted... he needed... A desperate whine fell from his lips, when John withdrew from him and left him cold and wet. His hole flattered forlornly at the absence of any stimulation and Sherlock almost cried out in betrayal, when John moved away from him.
Only when Sherlock heard his boyfriend rummage through the contents of his nightstand, did his mind put the clues together. "First drawer, left side. Condoms and lube," Sherlock rasped hoarsely and sighed in relief, when John screamed triumphantly and sat down between his spread thighs once more.
A plopping sound announced the opening of the lube and Sherlock tensed involuntarily. It was stupid, he had experimented with fingering himself, while masturbating numerous times and he knew how it felt. Still, these weren't his own fingers, but John's, which would be pushed up his arse and Sherlock couldn't help the nervous whimper that fell from his lips, when a slick finger circled his hole.
"Shh, relax. It's fine. I'll be careful and I'll stop if you are uncomfortable, promised." The soothing words - or was it just John's voice - eased some of the tension and Sherlock unclenched his muscles one by one, until he lay relaxed once more. Only then, John breached his slick and loose hole with his index finger. It was strange and familiar at the same time. Different from Sherlock's own fingers and yet, the sensation was familiar. He pushed back against John's hand and yelped when the action earned him a playful slap. "Patience, bee. We will go as slow as I see fit."
Sherlock groaned in mocked annoyance, but he didn't try to force a faster pace, while John stretched him with first one and then two fingers. John went slow - and probably used up the whole lube, judging by the slickness between his ass cheeks - and Sherlock wasn't going to protest again. It felt... good. More than good to have a part of John inside him. To be surrounded by John's smell and to listen to his strained breaths, while he pushed his fingers into him.
"Do you like direct prostate stimulation?" The question sent blood rushing south and Sherlock needed a moment to get his tongue back into working order, before he was able to reply. "Don't push against it, but," Sherlock wet his lips. "If you rub just above it, that would be..."
"Like this?!"
"Fuck! God! John... Stop!"
Sherlock gripped the base of his cock as hard as possible to hold back his climax, even while every nerve ending of his body screamed for release. John had almost made him come with only his fingers up his arse - although admittedly very skilled fingers - and that wasn't how Sherlock wanted his first sexual encounter to go. He wanted... it was hard to think with his hand uncomfortably gripping his throbbing erection, but Sherlock was sure that he didn't want to come just yet.
"I am sorry, love." John pressed a kiss onto his spine, but didn't move otherwise. His fingers were still pushed deeply into the tight hole and Sherlock heaved a relieved sigh at that. At least, he wouldn't have to explain to John why he had needed him to stop. Sherlock didn't want John to assume that he wasn't comfortable with their lovemaking, when the opposite was actually true.
"No need to... apologize. Just... give me a second." Sherlock took a shuddering breath to force his racing heart to slow down and John squeezed his thigh reassuringly. "Take all the time, you need. I don't plan on going anywhere."
Sherlock chuckled and some of the tension in his belly eased as he listed the periodic table in his head, until he wasn't wavering on the verge of his climax anymore. Only then, Sherlock realised his dead grip on his cock and turned his head to nod at John that he could continue.
And continue, he did. Sherlock could only writhe on the sheets, while John took his sweet time in preparing him. As often as Sherlock's orgasm loamed just around the corner of another push of skilled fingers, John would stop long enough to delay the inevitable. It was torture of the sweetest kind and Sherlock didn't want it to stop, although... he did. He yearned for release and for John as much as he longed for a continuation of their activities until the end of time.
"John, I want you. Now." The more realistic part of Sherlock managed to form these words and the fingers were withdrawn from within him. There was a pause and Sherlock blushed furiously, when gentle hands parted his cheeks to inspect their work, although he knew why John was checking if he was ready, but still... it was mortifying. And thrilling, in a foreign way.
"Alright, you should be ready." The words - so harmless in themselves - sent a shudder through Sherlock's body and a faint tremor shook his whole frame, by the time he got up on his knees and faced his boyfriend.
John had occupied the - so far - unused side of the bed and was propped up against the headboard - a pillow behind his back - and smiled reassuringly at Sherlock. "You can still change your mind about the position - or anything at all - if you like."
Sherlock shook his head. No, he wouldn't change his mind. There was no reason to back out of the sex now. Not, when his hole felt empty without John's fingers and all the nerve endings of his body were on fire and screaming for release. Besides, Sherlock couldn't have changed his mind, even if he had wanted to. John was much too alluring in his present position, with his swollen lips, flushed chest and - not to forget - his throbbing cock that rouse from between blond curls.
Sherlock's mouth went dry in anticipation as he crossed the remaining space to John and straddled his lap. The latex clad head of John's cock nudged against his buttocks and Sherlock glared slightly at the offending piece of rubber, which would remain a barrier between them.
"We talked about this, sweetheart." John raised an amused eyebrow at him and Sherlock sighed in defeat. Yes, they had both decided that it would be wiser to use condoms, until enough time - at least half a year - had passed since John's last sexual encounter with anyone , who wasn't Sherlock, to ascertain that he was clean. Sherlock was tested every three months - to stop Mycroft's meddling - and his last test results - after the incident with the exploded liver - had come back without pathological findings. Therefore, it was only a matter of time, until the condom could go and Sherlock would accept John's terms until then.
"I love you," Sherlock whispered, instead of ranting against latex barriers and John smiled at him. One of his sweet, brilliant smiles, that lit his eyes in a very specific way and made him look younger by ten years. "I love you, too, bee."
Sherlock smiled - he had known that, but it was nice to have verbal proof - and then guided John's erection to his entrance. It took him four tries, until the blunt head breached the ring of muscles, instead of sliding over it. Sherlock smirked in triumph, when the first inch of John was inside him, which was met with a strained, but happy smile from his boyfriend.
"Slowly," John warned him and gripped his thighs, when Sherlock sank slowly down onto his body. He wouldn't have needed John's warning. Sherlock didn't have any intention of going fast. Instead, he memorized every second of joining his body with John's. The slight burn and uncomfortable stretch, while his body adjusted to the size of John's cock. The sweat that trickled down his chest, as he panted for breath. The tremble of his muscles, while he lowered himself inch by inch. And above all, John's strained expression, as he held onto his control... for Sherlock's sake.
"Oh John!" His voice cracked, after he had taken the last inch of John. It was as close as they would ever get and it wasn't... it wasn't enough, although at the same time, it was. Sherlock took a shaking breath and put his hands on John's chest. The heart of his boyfriend was racing as fast as Sherlock's and when he looked down into blue eyes, he found the same raw emotions mirrored there, he was experiencing himself. Amazement, lust, happiness, desire, love and... Disbelief.
Disbelief that they had come this far. Disbelief that they were together and loving each other. And - on Sherlock's part - disbelief that someone as wonderful as John was here to share this experience with him. An experience, Sherlock had long since given up on dreaming about, since it had occurred to him that no one would ever love him. And then there was John and John was...
"It's alright, love. I know. I understand." Arms came around Sherlock's trembling body. Determined, but gentle lips joined his in a deep kiss and Sherlock felt his heart calm down as John's warmth enfolded him. The emotions were still there, when John let go of him and leant back against the pillow, but they weren't overwhelming anymore and Sherlock found himself able to move.
Unlike with the blowjob, Sherlock couldn't only draw from the knowledge he had gained from the lecture of various articles, but he was also able to judge John's reactions from his facial expressions. His eyelids fluttered, when Sherlock rolled his pelvis. A change in his breathing pattern was triggered by Sherlock's slow rising on his knees, until only the head of John's cock remained in him. He groaned, when Sherlock impaled himself on his erection once more and grabbed the sheets desperately, when Sherlock arched backwards and took John into him even deeper.
"Oh God, Sher... Bee!"
Sherlock's chuckle at John's exclamation, turned into a groan as John's cock brushed against his prostate and sent waves of rare pleasure straight to his leaking erection.
"John... so close," he whimpered, unable to decide how to proceed without coming within a few minutes and thankfully he didn't have to think of anything, because John took the decision away from him. He bent his knees to give Sherlock a better hold and gripped his thighs to steady him. "Move and come. I want to see you! I want to watch your face, when you come. Do it!" And Sherlock did.
Groans and screams echoed through the room, when John started thrusting up in his lover and Sherlock met his movements halfway. Every other thrust started a firework in his nerve endings and Sherlock felt himself coming apart on top of John, when his lover teased the head of his cock lightly. He was barely aware of his own screams or John's groans in his ear, while the world around him flashed white as his body shook with pleasure and its release. It was impossible to judge how long the high lasted, but when Sherlock came back to earth, he found himself snuggled on top of John, with his nose pressed in the crook of his neck.
"Are you alright?" Sherlock nodded at the question and then whimpered quietly, when John shifted them on their sides and pulled out of him. "Sorry, love, but it would have turned into a right mess, otherwise. With the condom and all." Sherlock sighed and nodded, unwilling to even berate John for throwing the used condom - hopefully tied together - to the ground as he threw his arms around his lover. He was tired and sated and his body was yearning for sleep. And what would be better than to fall asleep in John's arms after a round of extraordinary sex?! That thought though, sent a spark through Sherlock's mind and his eyes snapped open to find John's content gaze.
"Did you come?"
A frown appeared on John's forehead, but he nodded nonetheless. "Yes, I did. Couldn't you deduce it from the used condom or did I manage to break your brain?"
Of course, the used condom, Sherlock scolded himself inwardly, but still... "I didn't do anything to make you..."
"Shh!" A finger on his lips interrupted his panicking speech. "That's not true. You were fantastic." John exchanged his finger with his mouth, before he resumed speaking. "If it hadn't been for the condom, I would have come as soon as you started moving. So. Don't. Doubt. Yourself!" Every word was followed by a passionate kiss and Sherlock's panic abated with every brush of lips and every gentle caress from John.
His mind had already drifted half the way to sleep, when a gentle question rose him again. "Did you enjoy your first time?"
"Yes," Sherlock murmured with his head on John's shoulder.
"Was it as good as you imagined it to be?" And there was a hint of trepidation in John's voice, but Sherlock was too tired to analyze it farther as he gave an honest answer. "Better."
"Good." The trepidation had melted from John's voice and Sherlock smiled as he nuzzled the soft skin of his throat. He had waited over three decades for this moment and Sherlock didn't regret one second of it, as he drifted off to sleep, enfolded in John's arms and their love.