Work Text:
As John approached 221b he was silently praying to any deity that would listen that Sherlock was not in one of his strops again. It had been a long day with endless lines of patients and all he wanted was to curl up in his chair with his book; maybe watch some crap telly. He should have known better. Sherlock was laying on the couch, hands steepled under his chin, eyes fixed on the ceiling. All of which was a normal way to find him. What was not normal, however, was the ridiculous state of undress Sherlock was in.
John started to shell off his excess layers, giving Sherlock a wary, wide berth as he did so. When he was finished he proceeded to take his seat across from him, uneasy to address the current situation.
"Sherlock.."started John. "Not that you're not allowed to do so if you please, but..why are you er, um, sitting in the middle of our living room basically naked?"
With an eyeroll and a deep sigh Sherlock replied, "john I'm working on a case."
"Ok," of course it was a case the twat. "Why does it involve you being naked?" John was having a very difficult time looking at sherlocks face and was hoping he didn't notice. Of course he noticed.
"It didn't actually require me to be in the nude, but I wanted to test another hypotheses. Not exactly following the scientific method but it is producing some interesting results" and with that sherlocks gaze slowly traveled down johns body to the rather sizable result in johns jeans.
John could feel his cock twitch in response to sherlocks steady gaze. His face was heating up and he shifted from foot to foot to try and subtly cover the growing bulge.
"You're such a git." John managed rather half-heartedly as he tried to explain away his body's treacherous reaction.
"It has nothing to do with you, I was just um, sexting with a girl I fancy is all."
Sherlock snorted and deduced away that possibility though they both knew it was a downright lie. The gleam in sherlocks eye was unmistakable as he stood up and walked over to John, hips swaying more seductively than he ever thought possible of his best friend. Before John knew what was happening, Sherlock was behind him, mouth at johns ear, his hot moist breath tickling his neck. John tried and failed to suppress his shiver. He hoped sherlock didn't notice. He did. Sherlock took that cue to press his hand on Johns bulge and press himself firmly against Sherlock. John tried to sputter out in protest but stopped short when he felt sherlocks already fully hard cock pressed just above his arse. His breath hitched causing his arse to rub against Sherlock. He groaned softly into johns neck, and began to nibble his ear. John turned into putty in sherlocks strong embrace.
John rolled his head back allowing Sherlock more access to his neck before spinning around to grab two handfuls of that glorious ass he's always not-so-secretly admired. Sherlock grabbed johns face and lowered himself enough to allow their lips to meet, moaning into johns open and receptive mouth. He trailed his fingers down johns scratchy chin and face *no time for a shave this morning his alarm didn't sound* and slid them further still and began pulling at the jumper trying to convey to john that he was wearing too many clothes
Catching the not so subtitle hint, john reluctantly pulled his mouth away from sherlocks long enough to strip his jumper, and attacked sherlocks lips with more heat than before. Gripping sherlocks arse, John felt a heat coil low in his belly. Before he realized it, Sherlocks tongue and teeth were at his shoulder and those long beautiful fingers were undoing johns belt and jeans. In one swift motion, Sherlock freed John of his unnecessary clothes that blocked Sherlock from where he wanted to touch john most. John pressed himself fully into sherlocks embrace, causing both men to moan at the sensation of their groans sliding against each other; causing john to buck his hips erratically.
Sherlock chuckled and john decided he rather liked the sound of that. "Shall we move this to my bed?" The suggestive curve to his lips left johns mouth dry.
"Oh god yes."
The path to sherlocks room was bumpy; john slamming Sherlock against every free wall he could find along the way. When they finally toppled over each other on the bed john pulled back to look into the oceans of wonder below him. "I can't believe I'm about to bugger Sherlock fucking Holmes" he said panting and trying to remember how they got here.
"John do hurry up or I'll finish this myself" Sherlock growled as he lurched up to catch johns lower lip between his teeth. Their moans and gasps mingled together as john slid his hand between them to stroke sherlocks aching cock, his own hips bucking in tandem with his pulls. Sherlock reached beside the bed blindly searching inside his bedside table. He pushed a bottle of lube into johns chest with a particularly desperate whine.
Now it was Johns turn to chuckle. He took care forming his next words, coming out slightly huskier than he had planned.
"Someone's rather impatient, isn't he?" Sherlocks only response was to recapture Johns lips, nibbling a trail over his chin, and down to his collarbone. John groaned, "If we don't start soon I think you could get me off untouched." At that, Sherlock grinned. "Is that a challenge?" His attempt at feigning innocence falling short, miserably.
"Hell no. Who knows when I'll get the chance to do this again?" Slightly grimacing at those thoughts, he forced himself to push them away. Not the time nor place. He coated his fingers generously in lube, and started to attack Sherlocks nipples, eliciting delicious curses from the consulting detective. As he did, he lowered himself enough without breaking contact with those taut peaks, and slowly inserted a finger into sherlocks arse. He grinned at the loud moan he drew from him. Slowly working him open until he had three fingers in, he created a tortuous rhythm, purposely falling short of Sherlocks prostate. That is until Sherlock sank himself deeper onto his fingers, causing both men to groan appreciatively. "Stop..being..such a cock tease." Gritted out the detective. "It's not very becom-" his whine was cut off abruptly as John thrust against his prostate, causing a hole other noise to spill from his mouth. He felt dizzy as white hot pleasure clouded his vision.
John had planned on drawing this out for as long as he could, but with basal animal noises like that coming from the great sherlock bloody holmes it was hard to concentrate. He pulled back to admire his work and found Sherlock looking absolutely delicious and decided they'd both had enough. Slicking up his rock hard cock he asked "ready?" Sherlock attempted a contemptuous sigh but it came out more like a desperate grunt. John pushed sherlocks creamy white thighs even farther apart and slowly slid home.
John might have been embarrassed at the noises he faintly heard myself make, if he was so painfully turned on. If they didn't rectify this soon, he was sure they'd both combust. Sherlock was freely moaning now, attempting to speak and only succeeding in a few garbled sentences. He think he might have caught his name and Sherlock telling him harder. At that, John's slow, torturous circles he'd been making with his hips soon turned to a pace he didn't know he had in him still. Sherlock clung to John, hands digging delicious bruises into his hips as his legs wrapped around his own. He lifted sherlocks arse higher so with each thrust he would hit his prostate. Sherlocks mind was blissfully blank, only focusing on their shared pleasure and all he could repeat was, "John." John groaned hearing his name dripping from the gorgeous mans lips. He bent down and recaptured them tongue exploring every inch of his mouth until he knew it all. They had to break apart as Sherlock panted a warning as his building orgasm came nearer and nearer. John stroked Sherlock in time with his thrusts, as he pushed Sherlock over the edge. That broke something in John and his thrusts lost rhythm, hips bucking erratically until he joined him in pure bliss.
They lay there together riding out the last few pulses of their orgasms entwined in each others arms. Sherlock was the first to move, a slight twitch of his hips indicating he wanted John to get up. Panic shot through John’s body. What happens now? Clearly he wants me to leave. Oh my god I’ve ruined everything. Well I’d better start packing now maybe I could crash on Stanford’s couch for a few while I get my things in order-
“John for god’s sake stop thinking so loudly. I’m just sticky I want a flannel there’s no need to plan your move out.” His voice sounded less grating than usual and that made John smile that crooked smile he saved only for Sherlock. “So where do we go from here, then? I mean..I don’t want to assume anything..I don’t-“
“John a flannel please. Then we’ll lie back down together and sleep and then we can talk about all the sentiment you want.” John didn’t miss that slight upturn of his lips and he bent again to kiss them. More sweetly this time and less hurried. He broke away to retrieve a flannel, cleaned the both of them up, and got back into bed just as Sherlock said he would. He found himself being encased by the longest legs and arms in London and suddenly felt that all his questions had answers. He kissed the top of Sherlock’s curly head and wrapped his arms around his new boyfriend? Lover? Did it matter? and slowly drifted to sleep.