Author: Kalira69 PM
Sherlock and John have a conversation that is ostensibly about Mary. That is, until they lose focus. Sherlock/John, Slash. Warning: Light BondageRated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Hurt/Comfort - S. Holmes & J. Watson - Words: 850 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 46 - Follows: 4 - Published: 09-03-10 - Status: Complete - id: 6295845
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
The nineteenth of twenty-five comment!fics I wrote for the Twelfth Round of the IJ Porn Battle. The first thing I have written for this incarnation of the fandom.
Sherlock twisted his hands, tugging them back down towards himself as he pulled his wrists apart, even knowing already that they were quite well secured - with his own scarf, as it so happened, the other end of which was knotted loosely to the middle of his headboard. Sherlock had watched and listened as John tied it, and he knew he could get free with relative ease and speed, but he also knew that John would be displeased by such an action, and the threat of that outweighed the rather minor discomfort of his bonds.
"You just couldn't manage it, could you?" John barked exasperatedly. "Not for five minutes - less - even!"
Sherlock tried - unsuccessfully - to hide his blooming smirk. John scowled at him, but, a moment later, it dissolved into a reluctant, though fond, smile. Sherlock hummed thoughtfully, then tilted his head upward just enough to catch his old friend in a kiss.
John resisted bare seconds before he returned it, sinking his left hand deep into Sherlock's thick hair, pulling his lover's head back and dominating the kiss. Sherlock gave in easily, moaning in pleasure at the almost brutal pull.
John dragged himself away, and Sherlock leant up to bite his bottom lip harshly. John groaned, and Sherlock released him with a smug chuckle. "Never!" he insisted.
John unwillingly echoed his laugh, frustrated by his lover's stubborn - and possessive - nature, but knowing him too well to expect anything different, all the same.
"You knew." Sherlock posited confidently. "You knew all the time, but still you persisted determinedly in your course. You wanted me to sabotage-"
John covered Sherlock's mouth with his own again in mid-sentence, muffling the man's incessant flow of words. It took a few moments for Sherlock to actually stop trying to speak, and when he did, John pulled back, raising a brow and looking guardedly down at his lover. "Of course I knew what you'd do. I still thought-" he broke off, sighing.
"Ah, but I was right, was I not? You did miss the threat of the macabre in your everyday life." Sherlock stated triumphantly, "I daresay you even missed me, occasionally…" he murmured, his voice quieter, more subdued, now.
John smiled, stroking the side of Sherlock's face with a gentle hand. "I missed you more than anything else, Sherlock. Of course I did." John pressed a kiss to his lover's ever-tempting lips - he had a hard time resisting those lips, even when they were twisted around a cruel taunt - or, worse, when they were in full view of Inspector Lestrade and his men.
He pulled away a mere fraction of an inch. "Always." he breathed almost silently against Sherlock's now kiss-reddened lips.
Sherlock caught the slight sound, though, and he grinned - a smile John would wager that few had seen; unguarded and affectionate.
The smile was the only response Sherlock gave - but that was to be expected, and John knew it. Sherlock was far too uncomfortable with emotions in general, and his own particularly, to voice his feelings on the matter.
John kissed the throbbing pulse point half-hiding just beneath the line of Sherlock's jaw, then nipped the spot before laving the sting away with his tongue. John knew his lover far too well to be offended by his silence. Besides, at the moment he had better things to be focused on…
He kissed his way further down Sherlock's well-defined chest, vindictively pressing harder on the bruises from yesterday's death-defying stunt - which had nearly been a deadly stunt, instead - and eliciting small hisses and yelps of pain mixed amongst the moans and rolling pleas for more.
Suddenly, Sherlock's hips bucked up, dragging across John's chest. John's head whipped up to meet those sly hazel eyes, and as soon as he was distracted, Sherlock's thighs bent up and locked around his waist.
John gasped at the sudden restraint, and glared up at his lover. "Cunning bastard!" he snapped, and Sherlock smirked.
John made to rise, and Sherlock released him innocently. John moved back up, pressed a swift, teasing kiss to Sherlock's smirk, then lowered his hips onto his lover's. He rocked down, and Sherlock's eyes closed as he moaned John's name.
As worked up as they both were, and as long as it had been, both were soon groaning their release.
"You know I'll always be yours, don't you?"
Oh, and I do know who says the last sentence, but I thought - and my beta agreed - that it was more effective left to the interpretation of the reader.