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James was across the room from Sherlock, sitting cross-legged in a fancy, comfortable armchair and looking as composed and dashingly handsome as ever in his dark grey waistcoat and a navy blue tie. It was completely infuriating and unfair considering Sherlock was naked and sitting on his knees on the edge of the bed, completely exposed. That knowing smirk only added to the unfairness of the situation.
Unfortunately, righteous fury aside, Sherlock was very much enjoying this. He had his hand on his cock, not stroking yet, just holding it. He knew that patience was what was expected of him, and he didn’t want to disappoint.
James, the glorious bastard, let the silence stretch on for as long as Sherlock could bear before breaking it, “Stroke yourself. Slowly.”
Slow was hard, but he could manage. Sherlock slid his hand up and down gently, leaning back slightly. He kept his eyes locked on James’ across the room as he did so. His fingers brushed lightly against the warm skin of his cock, and he let the coolness of his fingers heighten the sensation. As the fingers glided up, he closed his fist around the head and twisted gently, gasping softly as he did so.
James’ shift in position was a victory to savor. Even the slightest signs that this affected him would be treasured from the normally carefully controlled man. Although Sherlock thought that he might have been too quick to celebrate as James stood up and crossed the room in only a few quick steps. He seemed to tower over Sherlock when he made it to the foot of the bed.
“Stop. Lay back,” his tone was cold and perfectly calm, which contrasted brilliantly with the want and heat in his eyes as he made deliberate eye contact.
Sherlock breathed deeply as he obeyed the simple commands, scooting backwards with his hands. This wasn’t what he expected, but he sure as hell wasn’t complaining.
James planted a still-clothed knee onto the bed next to Sherlock as he leaned forward. The impeccably tailored trousers weren’t leaving a great deal up to the imagination at the moment, and Sherlock wet his lips as he saw the definite sign of James’ arousal.
Their eye contact held as James fingers traced down Sherlock's chest. They took a meandering path downwards, sometimes doubling back to retrace an area. Sherlock's gasp was audible this time as James closed his fist around Sherlock's cock. He tugged, not hard, but more forcefully than Sherlock had been just a minute earlier.
Sherlock didn’t try to muffle the noises that came out of his mouth as James started jerking him off. He knew if he tried, he’d be told to stop. He also let himself jerk his hips slightly up into James’ hold, knowing that James liked it when he got needy.
The sudden change from far too little to a building pleasurable sensation had him reeling, and just a little desperate. He couldn’t be blamed for the needy and offended whine as James withdrew his hand and shifted over him.
He quickly reined in his disappointment when the reason for his stopping became clear. James' hand was shaking a bit as he undid his trousers and slipped the zipper down, which Sherlock counted as another success in his mind even as it clouded with desire for the man overtop of him.
James slipped his pants down and his wonderful cock sprung out, already red and shiny from arousal. He gave it a quick stroke before moving his hand to Sherlock's body to rearrange their position.
Sherlock certainly didn’t mind being manhandled like this. He was pressed down against the bed after having his legs moved forcefully around James' back. Sherlock hooked his ankles together, enjoying the proximity and promise of the position he was in. He couldn’t help but notice the fabric of James' clothes against his skin, and thought there must be something odd about him to be this excited about James fucking him fully clothed.
Where the lotion had appeared from was beyond him, but Sherlock could admit to himself that his brain wasn’t pumping a lot of blood around at the moment. He didn’t have much time to consider it before James had slicked up his cock and was gently prodding at Sherlock’s entrance. He thanked what deity was out there that they did this regularly when James slipped past the muscle and into him. The stretch was slow, and James didn’t rush. He almost always went the speed that was just on the right side of frustrating for Sherlock’s sanity.
Sherlock moaned loudly to the ceiling as he felt James' cock fully seated in him. He knew how he must look right now, flushed and desperate, enjoying this far more than was decent. But decency could go fuck itself right now. And James could start fucking him already, please and thank you.
Thankfully, James seemed to hear the ridiculous conversation happening in Sherlock's head and followed the command. He took a couple shallow thrusts to test the water before taking Sherlock's moans of appreciation to heart and thrusting much deeper and faster. A change of position had Sherlock repeating James' name and endearments like a mantra as his prostate was regularly hit by the thrusts.
“Fuck- James, please, I…” Sherlock’s words were cut off by James' hand messily jerking his cock. It took only a few seconds after that for Sherlock to see white as his orgasm overtook him.
“Well, that was sure something, eh?” were the first words to pierce Sherlock's foggy mind as he realized he had been pulled onto James' chest and had a hand carding through his hair. They were leaning into a pile of pillows that James' must have thrown together while Sherlock came down.
He felt the uncomfortable feeling of questionable liquids leaving him and cringed to himself, evoking a giggle from his companion and a cleaning rag quickly was handed over.
“As captivating as usual, yes,” was his reply, much to James' amusement.
“I'll take captivating, certainly. You should rest now. I always find you perfectly radiant in your beauty, but you do look a bit shite at the moment.”
Sherlock did curl back up next to him after cleaning himself, but not before sending a necessary glare his way.