A few weeks after, in the clinic, John and Mycroft were talking about John's upcoming birthday. Oh, and Mary was there for the lunch break to discuss what they should do, how they should celebrate it, and all like that. John's eyes widened a bit as he noticed someone sit down in the waiting room. "What's he doin' here?" John asked, nodding toward the man. Mycroft shrugged and John felt a vibration in his pocket. He took out his phone as Mycroft and Mary were still discussing his birthday.
'What colour pants are you wearing?-SH' It said with a number above it. John put his mobile back into his pocket as he gave a glance up to the waiting room. "What is it, the big 3-0?" John chuckled,
"Go fuck yourself, mate," He said with a covering cough.
"4-0!? Woah!" Mycroft and Mary laughed. John got another text.
'Take them off for me,-SH' John read, his grimace growing bigger as he glanced into the waiting room once more. He shifted in his seat nonetheless, feeling unintentionally aroused.
'STOP TEXTING ME.' John replied, then looked up as Mary's hand was placed on John's shoulder in worry. "Oh, uh, sorry." He said, "Harry," He briefly explained, giving a weak chuckle. Mary cooed as she leaned her head on John's shoulder, wrapping her arm around him, snuggling close.
"Is everything okay?" Mycroft asked, sounding concerned himself. Another text. 'Why? Am I making you hard, Dr?-SH' John's eyes widened and he sputtered for a response suitable.
"Y-yeah, I, uh," John began, but then Mary jumped up and with a smile on her face, excused herself to leave, beckoning Mycroft to check his phone soon.
"Bye, baby," She cooed, giving John a kiss. Mycroft said his goodbye to John as well, not kissing him, which was truly for the better as John had already kissed one Holmes boy, a lot, and was eating himself away at it, even still. John checked his watch and saw that it was time for him to head back to his office. He sighed, chuckling.
"They're gonna give me a surprise party," He laughed quietly. It was so obvious.
John was buzzed from the intercom for a new patient. John sighed and accepted. All right, he thought, I've got to end this today. He breathed deeply to calm himself down, then a knock at the door had riled him up all over again. "C-come in," John called. The door opened.
"Hello, doctor," A voice said in a low sing. John stood, making Sherlock whistle from the door. He closed it and changed the lock in the handle before strolling in to let his eyes rove all over John, or whatever he could see. John stepped from his desk and Sherlock hummed his obvious approval. John glanced down on himself. Sherlock's hands were held behind his back in a cool and ambiguous way.
"Sherlock," John said, "this has to stop." John stopped and stood still in front of his desk. Sherlock took to his path, slowly, until he stood a mere foot from John, whose heart took immediately to racing in his chest. Sherlock growled his disapproval, looking John up and down from where he stood. "D'you hear me, Sherlock?" John asked, his voice almost betraying him with a hitch of his breath. John was flushed in the face by now. "W-we can't keep this up," Sherlock opened his mouth but said nothing as he took another step, bringing his hands out to trail over John's belt.
"This is nice," He said, dropping to his knees, somehow knocking the wind from John's diaphragm. John tried to put his hand between Sherlock and the front of his trousers but was too late. Instead, John ended up digging his hand into the man's curls as he kissed and nuzzled against the flies of John's trousers, making John groan. "Where is it from? Mm, no, let me guess," Sherlock reached his hands around to grope at John's arse, pulling him gently further into his face and hummed. John gripped his hands to the edge of the desk.
"I-it's yours, S-Sherlock," John sucked in a breath of air. He let his head tip back as Sherlock gave a heavy lick and slow nip to John's clothed erection.
"Mmm, good," Sherlock said, standing up to give the man a quick kiss before turning him around. John was fazed out until he'd been bent over. He looked back, over his shoulder.
"H-hold on, Sherlock," John began but was silenced by another kiss. Sherlock reached around to undo John's belt and trousers. Sherlock pulled on the top hem and let the fabric fall. John gasped as Sherlock pulled back to examine John's arse, feeling it, giving it rough gropes and a slap or two. Sherlock huffed a chuckle as John la surprised gasp in as Sherlock pulled at John's pants, too. Humming Sherlock spread John's cheeks.
Sherlock collected saliva in his mouth and gave a spit. John jumped. "N-now, just h-hold on..!" John began but was cut off by a lewd moan as Sherlock let his tongue lick an upward stripe of John's skin. from his ballocks, over his perineum, and stopping right over the opening of John's arsehole, giving it an open mouth kiss. John gasped as Sherlock's tongue began working at entering John. Sherlock kissed, licked, spread, and sucked, driving John mad on his desk.
Sherlock was working him as he'd never been worked before. Sherlock jabbed his tongue in and hummed, letting his lips vibrate against John, shaking him down to nothing but a mess of beautiful pleasure. John's back arched in shock as he felt something tug on his cock. It was Sherlock's hand jerking him as he was being eaten out. And, It was the best feeling ever...!
Sherlock stopped again, making John go practically mad. "No, no, no, no!" He whined, screwing his eyes shut, "Mm, no, don't l-leave me like this; hah, not again...!" John heard Sherlock chuckle, then work at his own trousers.
"Don't worry, addict; you'll get your fix," Sherlock said in a low voice. John felt something edging at his hole and Sherlock's right hand pressed against John's back, pinning him to the desk. John's heart began to pound. He could hear it in his ears; feeling it in his legs, his arms, his bloody thumbs...! "Alright," Sherlock sighed, pushing in, making John let out the most undignified, strangled moan of his life. Sherlock eased himself in slowly, and as Sherlock's hips touched John's arse, John felt something inside of him being nudged and he nearly screamed. John was a mess at this point. He was already drooling, for God's sake...!
Sherlock began at a slow pace, letting out little whimpers here and there. He stopped pinning John as he picked the speed up, grabbing at John's hips and ramming in, making John gasp and moan and reach for Sherlock behind him. John gripped at the tall man's hand and pulled it around for him to touch John's cock. Sherlock let out a primal moan and leaned forward to kiss at John's neck as he began stroking the doctor. John was bloody well enjoying this. It felt so good to be filled like that...! John soon begged for more. Sherlock gave a grunt of agreement and began getting rougher, thrusts became faster and with more force, as well as nudging deeper inside of John, pushing a bit more to that spot each time and John loved it, Sherlock's name rolling from his now rawed-out throat like it was second nature.
It didn't take long for their orgasms to send them into a spasm of pleasure and grunts. Sherlock burrowed himself deep inside John as he came, moaning his quiet sweet nothings into John's hair. "F-fuuck, John...!" That's what made John topple over the edge, spilling himself into Sherlock's hand as his head tipped up for Sherlock to kiss and lick and lightly suckle.
John collapsed on his desk, having just had one of the best orgasms in all of his life. John and Sherlock were gasping for air as Sherlock was still slowly riding his orgasm out, giving weak little thrusts into John. John could feel the escaping drool wetting under his shirt collar. He felt Sherlock breathing. He felt the man's heart, which was racing just as fast as John's.
Finally, Sherlock lifted himself off of John, giving a slap to John's arse as he did so, making him gasp. "I love the sounds you make," Sherlock chuckled. For whatever reason, John felt his stomach flip at the strange compliment. He stood and backed up some to bend over again so he could pull his pants up. He'd redone his trousers and belt, turning around for Sherlock to surprise him with a barrage of kisses.
John was placed on his desk and Sherlock was in between his legs again, but not doing much but kissing John, who was chuckling as he accepted it. It felt uncontrollably cute. Sherlock made him feel cute. He let this happen. Sherlock let his hands peacefully rest on John's thighs and John wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck, smiling into the kisses Sherlock selflessly gave up. Sherlock let his mouth work its way back to John's ear.
"Never suggest to end this again," He growled and bit against John's ear as a warning. He pulled back, face flushed and still scowling. John carefully caressed Sherlock's cheekbones before Sherlock backed up quickly as if retreating. John sighed.
"Then, at least tell me you're clean," John let out a huff of frustration, hopping off of the desk. Sherlock looked back, confused.
"Oh, yeah. I've tested recently," Sherlock said. John nodded, clearing his throat.
"Not just that, Sherlock," John said sternly. tipping his head down to intimidate Sherlock, which was not on. Sherlock mockingly copied the action,
"Yes," he mused with his deepest voice, sending shivers up John's spine. John sighed.
"You know we can't keep doing this, though," John said, making Sherlock groan, "You have to, Sherlock,"
"Do you really want this to end?" Sherlock asked harshly, "Do you want what we have to end, John?" He seemed angered, but his voice was breaking and his face began to flush with a deeper emotion than what he wanted to let on. John looked down, then back up with an almost guilty look in his eyes as he shook his head. Sherlock sighed as he backed up some.
"You suggest it again and I'll bend you back over and fuck you 'till you scream my name," Sherlock snapped, snarling agitatedly. He stormed out of the office, clicking his lighter to burn the end of the cigarette in his mouth, making John chuckle as he shook his head.
John continued with his day. He went home to Mary and thought about Sherlock as he wanked one out in the shower. They had takeaway as they watched telly. Then, John texted Sherlock as Mary slept next to him in their bed. The thought didn't worry him as much as it used to, surprising enough.
'Hey,'
'John, -SH' Came the reply, 'How are you? -SH' John didn't know why he laughed but he did,
'Why do you put your initials at the end of each text? -JW' John chuckled, wondering if Sherlock found it amusing, John's mockery,
'Why are you texting me in the middle of the night? -SH' He sent and John didn't really know how to respond to that. He'd been thinking of Sherlock a lot lately, but he can't just say that, can he?
'I dunno, -JW' He sent with a giggle as he bit his bottom lip. Mary shifted in the bed and John froze dropping his mobile to his chest and holding his breath, glancing over to Mary as he felt the mobile vibrate with an incoming message. John quietly pulled the phone back up and had to cover his mouth at what he saw. It was a tease photo of Sherlock, who was sitting in front of the mirror in his bathroom, nothing but a pair of too-tight, black pants. John's cock jumped at the sight and his breath hitched. He glanced over to Mary as he sat up some.
'I believe this is what you were looking for? -SH' He texted. Damn, he looked so good...!
'I think we should meet,' John quickly typed, his heart thrumming with thrill and anticipation.
'Should we?-SH' He asked,
'Yes! Yes, I really think we should,'
And the place was set. There was an almost empty car park where John drove to. He sat and waited. He waited and waited and bloody waited, and finally, Sherlock showed, looking as stunning as ever. Sherlock opened the door and sat in, bringing his hands up to the heater of the car. John gave a quick kiss to Sherlock's cheek in acknowledgement. "You look brilliant," John complimenting.
"Ta, that was what I was going for, you know?" Sherlock thanked with a chuckle. He looked over to John to see him smiling, too, just admiring the view. "What?"
"Nothing," John chuckled. For whatever reason, John felt too giddy to be sitting there in a confined area with Sherlock like this.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Sherlock asked with an awkward laugh.
"Because I really like you," John said breathlessly, "And people smile at people they really like, don't they?"
"Uh-" Sherlock didn't know what to say, really, "Y-yes, I suppose they do," Sherlock felt his face heat up as he let a grin spread on his face, "Well," He cleared his throat, "I, uh, I really like you, too," He said, needing to glance away for a moment. John felt like his heart may have popped out of his chest like a cartoon.
Even though they only snogged, John still cuddled with Sherlock all night. That's still a successful night, in John's opinion. He told Mary the next morning that he had a starting shift and he had some errands to run beforehand. He did have the morning shift, but the errand was having breakfast with Sherlock in that quaint little sandwich shoppe across the street from that tattoo parlour.
"Have you two been to Angelo's near Lauriston Gardens?" Sherlock asked, taking a sip from his drink.
John hummed as he thought, sifting through his food, "Mmm, no, I don't think so,"
And, so they went that Wednesday. John had convinced Mary that he'd had a graveyard shift as a bit of overtime and she'd believed him. Upon stopping somewhere to change from his work-casual shirt into something he'd folded into his bag earlier, John had gotten a text. A text from Sherlock, reading, "I got us the table right next to the door; you'll see me in the window," John muttered, smiling. He was getting an exciting feeling in his stomach and lungs even if the promise of sex wasn't exactly mentioned for tonight, which was weird and strangely alarming. John shrugged it off and did his best to arrive as quickly as possible.
Walking up to the door, John did see Sherlock, who was wearing a purple shirt that was just begging to be set free from the stretch across the man's broad chest. No worries, John will definitely help with that! John grinned at the thought as he sat in the booth.
"Just warning you, now, that Angelo's a bit overbearing," Sherlock hissed across the table. John gave him a look, then opened his mouth to speak, but as if on cue, a man walked up, swooning Sherlock's name as he wrapped his arms around the tall man in a hug. Sherlock groaned and John couldn't help but snark a laugh out.
"Look at you," The man sighed, holding out his arms as if expecting Sherlock to stand and give him a real hug, which didn't happen as Sherlock only cleared his throat, "How many weeks, now?" Sherlock's face was already flushed as he glanced up at John,
"Months, three of them, actually..." Sherlock muttered. Angelo looked like a proud parent, then looked at John.
"This man saved my life," Angelo said as he leaned against Sherlock, his hands heavily relying on the man's shoulders. John's eyebrows popped up and his grin grew, dropping the laminated menu with pleasure, folding his hands as if waiting for the story,
"I have to hear this," Sherlock could hear the smile in John's voice as Angelo told a very botched, dramatised version of the truth that happened. Once John and Sherlock got their orders and Angelo left them alone, Sherlock leaned in,
"It wasn't like that," he said, "I just proved that, during the murder of Mr Simmons, Angelo was performing an ill-mannered breaking and entering," John nodded thoughtfully, "into my flat," Sherlock smirked at John, who couldn't help but laugh. When Angelo returned, he had not only a pair of dishes but also a candle that was lit after being set onto the table. John looked at Sherlock with a mockingly accusatory expression, which Sherlock dismissed from himself and gave to Angelo, setting a quick glance to him.
After dinner, the two walked about, talking and laughing. John found he really liked the way Sherlock's smile seemed to be bright even in the middle of the night.
"Hey, you wanna come back to my place?" Sherlock asked, sounding timid as they arrived once more outside of Angelo's where John unlocked his car. John hummed with a nod as he sat down in the driver's seat. As he was turning the key in the ignition, John felt a hand overlap his own on the gear shift. John looked up as the car purred to life.
For whatever reason, with Sherlock looking at him like that, John felt different. His eyes widened as Sherlock leaned over the partition, lifting his hand to John's neck, to softly lay his lips on John's. It wasn't like the others. Sure, they've shared soft kisses before, but none so sensual, none like this...! John's eyes fluttered shut as he gently kissed back, replying to the feeling that Sherlock portrayed. John lazily opened his eyes and accidentally revved his engine idly, making Sherlock laugh.
The drive to Sherlock's address was short and at first, John was confused. "Th...e tattoo parlour?" He asked, his eyes fixed on the building.
"Close," Sherlock unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out, urging John to do the same, which he did. They walked to the door next to the parlour. Sherlock let them both in and they made up the stairs. Sherlock opened the door and John was kind of surprised. Granted, he had no prior idea as to where Sherlock lived, so he, unfortunately, grouped him in with the other drug addicts he'd known most of his life. John hummed with a nod.
Suddenly, a pair of wonderful lips attacked his own with fervent and need. John was pushed against the wall next to the door as Sherlock was already fumbling with his belt. John moaned as he let his hands tangle into Sherlock's hair, leaning his head back when Sherlock had decided he'd had enough of John's mouth for now. Sherlock kissed and bit at John's jaw and neck as his hands pulled at John's shirt.
"Can I rip yours?" John asked, feeling a bit embarrassed,
"I can get a new one," sherlock's lips went right back to John's neck, only to pull back to watch John's face as he watched his own thumbs hook in between the sides of the front of Sherlock's shirt. John pulled with a satisfied look as he looked back up into Sherlock's eyes before kissing him roughly again. Sherlock moaned as he let the arms of his shirt fall to the floor.
They stumbled out of their trousers and shoes, kissing and grabbing, pulling and pushing. They've ended up with Sherlock sitting in the red plush armchair, John straddling him, grinding his hips. They went rough. John didn't even want to prepare, to remind himself of that first thrill, and it worked, alright. John rode Sherlock thoroughly on that chair. Sherlock's hands gripped John's hips and thighs so hard, he was sure there will be bruises.
Suddenly, John felt Sherlock lean forward, his hands getting a good grip to his arse, lifting him up. John quickly grabbed Sherlock's shoulders, keeping him from an unattractive fall to the floor. He wrapped his legs around Sherlock's waist as the bloody madman walked to the leather armchair opposite to the red one they were on, plopping John in by his back, still inside of him. Sherlock continued to rut his hips powerfully, his right hand keeping John's chest in place, as the left was lifting John's thigh for more leverage, their eyes never breaking contact until Sherlock shuddered a moan, closing his eyes. Sherlock's hand slipped from John's thigh to his calf, leaning in to brush his lips to the smooth persperated skin on the back of the leg. Sherlock opened his eyes to look intensely into John's.
John's arousal unravelled, his whole body shook violently as his orgasm ripped through him, head to toe. At some point, John had gripped over Sherlock's shoulders and scratched. Sherlock climaxed somewhere in there, too. They both shivered with the cold aftershocks as Sherlock's arm buckled, sending him collapsing on top of John, both of their chests heaving, lungs screaming for air.
"That," John said and suddenly didn't even know what he wanted to say next.
"Agreed," Sherlock chuckled, still trying to catch his breath. They stayed there for a little bit. The sound of Sherlock's phone ringing interrupted harshly. Sherlock sat up and scrambled across the floor, looking fervently for his mobile. John had already stood and made his way over to his pants, picking them up to recover himself in the cloth when Sherlock stood as well, huffing a frustrated sigh of air as he answered. "Brother," he introduced coldly, making John body begin to panic.
"Yes, of course, we went out for a pint; where else would we have gone?" Sherlock asked, his attitude growing more and more irritated by the moment. "That's because I asked him not to, idiot! I... I was in a low place, alright? And, I don't want the news of me being an ex-addict getting everywhere," Bitterly, Sherlock sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Would you want him to drive home drunk, Mycroft? I thought you were his friend," He sounded upset, but his face was calm and collected. Damn, he's a good liar! "Yeah, yeah; I will, don't worry. I'll take care of him," At that, Sherlock locked his eyes with John's as if he was the lion stalking the gazelle of a man John had become since he'd met the tall, eccentric man. He hung up, looking at his mobile before once again striking John down with that unbearably sexy stare.
"My bedroom, end of the hall," It wasn't a request but a statement as if to say, that's where you'll be accompanying me all night, And John did, all night long.