He grunted when Sherlock's damp, warm hands grabbed his face, and the detective engaged in a desperately passionate and noisy snog. Sloppy and lazy and wet, John melted into it, but that tongue licking his lips did nothing but stoke the heat in his stomach and the hard strain in his cock.
As if reading his mind, Sherlock sighed happily and snaked a hand down John's body, a bold bee-line to his still-clothed erection.
"Lemme..." he began, mumbling into John's mouth, the rest of his words disappearing into the kiss.
John hummed into Sherlock's mouth, shifting himself further onto his side to give Sherlock more access.
Suddenly pulling back for air with a massive inhale, Sherlock grinned at his doctor. "Tell me what to do for you. I can get hard again quickly, if you...if that's something you'd like."
John bit his lower lip, thinking quickly so as to not get distracted by that wicked smile.
"Maybe... Maybe you can show me... I mean..." John felt a fool, his bravado leaving him as he hesitated with what he wanted, what he wanted to try. With Sherlock. Only Sherlock.
"Maybe you can use your... ah... fingers. On me."
"Yes! John, yes, fantastic. I'll finger you. I can't wait to show you how incredible it feels." Sherlock scrambled down the bed, grabbing John's jeans and undoing the button and zip with lightning speed. "Top off. You have to be naked."
John could hardly blink before Sherlock was forcing him out of his jeans, and demanding he relinquish his top. He chuckled and sat up, pulling off his t-shirt with a sigh, a rush of cold air against his skin making him shiver.
"I'll warm you up," Sherlock announced, crawling over his flatmate and promptly laying on top of him, his lean body surprisingly heavy, almost crushingly-so. Before John could speak, the detective had trapped him in another deep, dizzying snog.
John moaned against the other's mouth, spreading his legs to make room for Sherlock between them. "God, you're..." he mumbled, unable to finish his sentence under the force of Sherlock's tongue.
"You too, John, you too. I'm going to be inside you. Deep…oh John, we're going to make love," he babbled, as if the doctor didn't already have a good idea of what was about to happen.
He sucked in a breath around Sherlock's lips, rolling his hips subconsciously as his hands grabbed at any inch of Sherlock's skin he could reach.
"Oh, need you," he muttered, hissing as his cock rubbed against Sherlock's hip.
"Mmm, yes," Sherlock agreed distractedly, rolling his hips and bumping his semi into John, playfully easing it down between his legs, and under his balls.
John gasped, his eyes going wide but unseeing as he felt Sherlock's cock traverse his balls. It was so intimate that it made his cheeks flush, his heart stutter, and a long moan roll from his lips.
"What do you think?" Sherlock cooed encouragingly, pushing ever-so-gently against his perineum with his rapidly-swelling, damp cock.
John gulped in air, trying to keep his thoughts from scattering. The gentle press against his perineum was sparking little jolts of pleasure into his aching erection and he groaned. The difference between Sherlock's cock and his own finger was apparent, in girth and pressure, and the doctor felt his breathing hitch.
"Feels... good," he whispered, a flutter of sound leaving his throat as Sherlock pressed a little harder.
"Yes? You think you'd like it inside you, some time? Sometime soon? I want to know you from the inside out, John."
"God," he gasped, biting down on his lower lip as the tip of Sherlock's cock pressed back and forth, the remains of his orgasm making his skin slick. A niggle of fear ran down his neck at the thought of being open, but it was soothed by fluttering kisses over his jaw. "I - I think so."
"Oh, God John. You'll be my first. I'm going to fuck you," Sherlock mumbled subsonically, sucking hard on John's left trapezius muscle, and pumping his hips harder, his cock stabbing insistently against John's unyielding flesh.
The curse word was so obscene coming from those lips and John moaned, so loud that he felt Sherlock jump. He shoved his head back into the pillow, nearly whimpering as his neglected cock strained against his stomach.
"Sherlock," he whispered desperately.
"God, you really want it, don't you," Sherlock whispered, gnawing affectionately on his doctor's throat. "Are you ready for my fingers? I need you to stay still for me. No wriggling around,"
John writhed even before he was told to stay still. He felt like he was about to burst.
"God - yes, OK, yes, shit."
"Will you behave for me? Do as I say? Trust me with your pleasure?" Sherlock asked, one hand snaking down to give John a couple of firm, tight tugs.
John let out a small cry, bringing a hand to cover his mouth and subdue the sounds threatening to escape. He took a few heavy breaths, nodding fiercely and rolling his hips into Sherlock's hand.
The detective finally pulled back, looking flushed and very pleased with himself. "Then lubricate my fingers. Prepare them. I want you to be involved in the process."
John felt himself tense, about to ask how the fuck he was supposed to help when he was so wound up, but stopped himself. Instead he gave himself a moment to gather his thoughts, turning to reach for the lube. With the cold tube in hand, John popped the lid before looking over the detective. He cocked his head a little, taking Sherlock's wrist in his hand before bringing two of the detective's fingers and putting them in his mouth, teasing them with his tongue.
Sherlock seemed surprised, his mouth making a wonderful, awed heart-shape. John grinned at the idea of doing something that hadn't factored into the detective's game plan.
He sucked the digits harder, coating them in saliva and teasing the tips with his tongue, keeping his eyes firmly on Sherlock's face and watching a mixture of reactions flitter over his features.
"Oh...That's not quite...but I like it," the detective admitted, his grey-green eyes fixated on John's mouth.
John sucked a few more times before he released Sherlock's fingers, feeling incredibly pleased with himself.
"Then I promise to do it again. Somewhere... else."
"...I wasn't sure you liked it enough to repeat the experience," Sherlock huffed, finally meeting John's indigo eyes.
The doctor chuckled, a little breathless, before shaking his head.
"Was just surprised. But of course I'd repeat it. Anything to hear you moan."
"Anything? Really," Sherlock confirmed, repeating John's words with ominous surety. "That's very good to know."
John narrowed his eyes slightly, realising the leeway he'd just given Sherlock. To distract him, John hooked a hand around his neck and pulled him down for a fierce kiss.
"Weren't you going to do something fabulous to my arse just now?"
"Lay back, John. Pillow under your hips. And think of England," Sherlock joked, flashing a grin and gently pushing his doctor backwards.
John let out a quick burst of laughter, shaking his head before doing as he was told. "Queen and country," he muttered, grabbing a pillow from under his head and shifting it under his hips.
"You should be used to it, soldier," Sherlock quipped, taking a few seconds to appraise his doctor's naked, waiting body with a loud, lascivious sigh.
"Not thinking about the bloody Queen," he quipped, leaning his head back as he tried not to squirm under Sherlock's sharp eyes.
"What about me? I believe that's the right term," Sherlock chuckled, beginning to run his cool, slippery fingers up and down John's perineum, prodding gently on occasion.
John's mouth opened to reply, but was cut off by a sharp moan. "You? Well..." he struggled, his breath coming out in sharp bursts. "That's a whole other train of thought."
"Did you ever think about me? Sexually? Before all this," Sherlock asked, dipping the tips of his fingers quickly, shallowly, and repeatedly, inside his doctor's ring of muscle.
John's breathing got harder with every small press against his arse, the muscles tensing and relaxing in time with the smooth caresses. "I... yes," he said slowly, feeling as though the fingers were merely distracting him while Sherlock drew out every answer he wanted. It was manipulation tactics, but he was loving it anyway.
"Did you think about screwing me? Humping me like an animal? Fucking me into submission?" Sherlock began to thrust harder, his fingers curling slightly, not yet reaching his prostate.
John groaned low, the finger playing inside him drawing all his focus that he struggled to make sense of Sherlock's words. "Oh my... God," he gasped, biting hard at his lower lip. "Ohhhh Christ..."
Sherlock hummed thoughtfully as he smoothly slid in with two fingers, just holding them there, scissoring a miniscule amount, halting his thrusts for the moment.
"Do you know what I wonder, John?"
John let out a throaty grunt of frustration as the fingers stopped, lifting his head to look at Sherlock, his chest rising and falling harshly.
"What do you wonder?" he panted, knowing the man wouldn't continue until his curiosity was sated.
Sherlock started pumping his paired fingers faster, but still not deeply. Still, nowhere near his prostate. "I wonder, what would be different, had I just taken you home that first night. The night that I knew I had finally found what I needed. Had I just asked you to make love to me, and make everything right."
John arched his back, the feel of his fingers pressing against the soft walls not coming anywhere near enough.
"I... I don't know," he said almost desperately. "I probably would have said yes."
"The important thing is that you're saying 'yes' now, I suppose," Sherlock smirked, before finally, blessedly, easing his fingers forward very slowly, nudging the edge of John's prostate.
John's body tensed as the fingers pressed deeper, the pressure of having something in his arse noticeable, but not painful. Sherlock moved so close to his prostate that he sucked in a breath, holding it until it burned, only to let it out in a frustrated huff as the man pulled back again.
"You're such a tease," he muttered, bringing his hands above his head to keep them from forcing Sherlock's fingers deeper.
"I take it you're ready for a little more?" Sherlock queried. "More...speed, perhaps?" He asked, giving a rapid series of blinding thrusts, before halting. "Or, more depth?" With a smooth, unhurried movement, he finally pushed deeper, crooking his fingers and gently pushing against John's prostate.
John whimpered as Sherlock moved faster, and then when he pushed deeper the doctor let out some kind of horrifyingly high-pitched noise. There was a sudden burst of electricity, so sharp and incredible that it was too much. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my fucking God..."
"I think I have my answer," Sherlock chuckled, his mouth and eyes crinkling into deceptively-innocent smiles. He slid two of his long fingers as far as they would go, pumping his knuckles firmly against his doctor's opening, whilst his digits probed deeply inside his blood-hot body.
John squirmed into the intrusion, thinking that he was moving away from the intensity but was actually forcing his body harder onto Sherlock's hand. He let out a long, hard breath, the pleasure pushing him so close to the edge. "Oh fuck, Sherlock touch me - shit, shit, shit - touch me, touch me, touch me." John thrust his hips for good measure, rocking back onto Sherlock's fingers.
"Umm, no." The answer was blunt and matter-of-fact. Sherlock quickly ramped up the speed, biting his lip in glee as he built up a relentless rhythm, thudding quickly, unerringly, against the bundle of nerves within his writhing doctor.
"Ah! Ah, oh, Sherlock!" John felt his hands curling against the headboard, the curling in his stomach tightening as Sherlock pressed mercilessly on his prostate. "Oh, please! Sherlock... fuck...Harder."
"Are you going to come, John? Are you going to climax? I want to see it. I want to feel it. You truly are stunning." As he finished speaking, the detective pumped harder, his pale hand blue with veins, slick and glossy with lubricant.
"So close... Sherlock..." John couldn't take a whole breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he fought to give in to the heat snaking down his thighs, pitting in his stomach. "Kiss me," he whispered, a desperate edge to his tone. "Kiss me, Sherlock - Sherlock!"
Sherlock was shocked enough to stop and stare at him for a few silent seconds, before processing the request with a few rapid blinks. He leaned down, keeping his fingers in place, anchoring John's pleasure, and pressed his mouth to his doctor's.
John sucked in a sharp breath before meeting Sherlock's lips with a clack of teeth. He wound both hands around Sherlock, yanking him down as Sherlock's fingers pressed against his prostate hard enough to push him over the edge. "I'm going to-"
Sherlock silenced him with a hard, airless kiss, and slipped in a third finger, pounding against John's prostate as quickly as he could.
John could feel the vibration of noise in his chest, and he felt Sherlock flinch against him - but he couldn't say he felt much more than the force of his orgasm. It hit him so hard he was sure he went blind for a moment, his brain coming to a complete stop before flickering back on and being hit with wave after wave of pleasure.
One of the first things he saw, with bleary eyes, was Sherlock's face, gawping beautifully at him, lips parted, skin flushed and rosy, his fingers (of both hands, John realised belatedly) cradling his face.
He blinked, slowly, trying to clear his eyes enough to focus. "Holy shit," he whispered.
"Oh, John, you're back with me," Sherlock huffed, looking relieved. He kissed him gratefully, before giving what John could only describe as a 'boop' with his nose against his wet forehead.
John let out a long breath, trying to smile but feeling utterly decimated from the force of his orgasm. He couldn't even form another proper word, instead still putting himself back together after being so thoroughly shattered.
"Wasmn - wasm... was 'mazing."
"Thank goodness. I thought I'd broken you. Or, maybe I did," Sherlock chuckled, kissing the top of his head fondly a few times.
John smiled faintly, his eyes fluttering closed as he revelled in his fantastic orgasm and the warmth of the man hovering next to him. "Least... we can cuddle this time," he murmured, reaching out for Sherlock's arm and tugging him closer.
The detective snuggled him close, sighing contentedly. "There's something I should tell you John, whilst we're basking in lassitude."
John opened his eyes blearily, but decided against it as his vision threatened to waver. "Mm?"
Sherlock pulled back to kiss him on the ear, before speaking.
"I'm hard again."
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