A/N – This is for HOS70, who was the first to ask for it. This set after the events in Opening Gambit and Upsetting the Board. Thanks to ScopesMonkey, who also asked for it, for her beta work.
Warnings – Very fun sexual events to follow, once again, read or ignore as you see fit. And for those of you who like tastefully done love scenes, this might or might not be one of them. Beware. Oh, and I used ass instead of arse again. Sorry.
Disclaimer – Duh! Still doing my own laundry so still don't own anything.
…in lovers meeting,
Every wise man's son doth know.
William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night (II, iii, 44-45)
Nine days ago he woke up Sherlock Holmes, a man who didn't have sex.
Nine days ago he went to sleep Sherlock Holmes, a man who'd had sex with John Watson.
Today he is Sherlock Holmes, a man who can't wait to have sex with John Watson again.
In fact, he is starting to believe that he will never think about anything else but having sex with John Watson. He finds this fascinating and perfectly acceptable. He enjoys John a great deal.
He'd spent the majority of today at Scotland Yard talking to the CPS about the evidence in the hacker case. He'd hated it, but it wasn't as if John would have been home to entertain him. The doctor worked at the clinic today, and Sherlock had been at least momentarily distracted by recounting his own brilliance.
John would be home now though and they could have sex again. The detective smiles as he turns onto Baker Street; he and the doctor have done little else in the last nine days.
The entire experience is very new to him, but he is enjoying learning every aspect of it. John awakens every one of the detective's senses and involves them in their sexual encounters. It's enlightening to categorize the tastes and smells of sex and John and how they differ place to place. He loves it. He loves John.
He hasn't told him yet though. He will.
Sex has also caused Sherlock to learn new things about himself and what he enjoys. He has learned to use his penis as a tool. Gauging what appeals to him the same way his tongue tells him what flavors he likes or his ears tell him what sounds he finds appealing. For example, he likes John in pyjama bottoms, a t-shirt, and barefoot leaning against the kitchen counter waiting on the kettle to boil. He also likes John freshly showered, towel around his waist, partially leaning over the sink, shaving. His favorite, so far, is John asleep with his naked body vaguely defined under the thin sheet. Just the thought of that one causes a happy stirring in his groin area.
In general, he has found that his penis likes John a lot.
He enters the building, and is met with Mrs. Hudson directing John to place a rather large box into the closet.
She turns to greet Sherlock just as John squats down to set the box on the floor. The detective manages a distracted hello, fascinated by the tightening quadriceps and glutes. His fingers start to flex with the desire to touch and the happy stirring begins again. This makes him happy. John glances up at him and flashes a knowing smile. Sherlock loves that smile.
The doctor stands and Sherlock follows the movement with his eyes.
"Is that it, Mrs. Hudson?" John asks her. She nods.
"For now, dear, but there might be more tomorrow. If you are available?"
John offers her his helpful smile. "Anytime, you know that." He pulls her into a partial hug. She smiles up at him before heading back into her flat.
Sherlock wonders if she knows, then dismisses it. He doesn't care who knows, but isn't going to waste shag time explaining.
As soon as the door closes, John holds out a hand and Sherlock takes it. He allows the doctor to pull him up the stairs. John turns as soon as they are in the door and faces Sherlock.
"Miss me?" John asks, pressing against Sherlock. The detective's back hits the door just as it closes.
"You have no idea." Sherlock says reaching between them and pushing his coat off. "The crown prosecutor was a particular idiot and I was unable to stop thinking about this morning's activities." They'd given each other hand jobs in the shower this morning. Sherlock was making plans to start every day in the same manner.
John smiles at this, sneaking closer to steal a quick kiss. "I had nothing but runny noses and dry coughs all day. It was so boring."
"How dreadful," Sherlock says dropping his coat to the floor and turning his attention to the buttons on John's shirt.
John leans in close, so that his lips are just brushing Sherlock's as he speaks. "Isn't it? I kept thinking about you and the way you move when you're on top of me."
Sherlock moans. He likes the "talking dirty". He likes the images John can create in his mind, surprising the detective and arousing him.
He also likes the feel of John's lips barely touching his, but he likes actual touching more. He leans forward and John leans back, flashing a mischievous smile. Sherlock frowns and pushes John's shirt to the floor.
John reaches up and pulls Sherlock's shirt out of his trousers. "You're so greedy Sherlock, always wanting more."
This is true, Sherlock thinks as he grabs two of John's belt loops and pulls the doctor against him. John chuckles as he continues to undo Sherlock's buttons. Sherlock likes the sound of John's husky laugh.
He watches John for a second, enjoying the warmth that spreads through his body at just looking at him. The doctor has a smirk on his face that Sherlock can barely see. The doctor's face is turned down as he finishes the last of Sherlock's buttons. His brow is wrinkled slightly, having to put more thought into it that usual. It makes Sherlock smile and move his hands around to the ass that he enjoys so much.
The doctor glances up when done, pushing on Sherlock's shirt. The detective lets his arms drop for a moment as the shirt hits the floor and immediately returns them to John's cheeks. He squeezes too big handfuls. The doctor groans and leans in to kiss Sherlock.
As the kiss deepens, Sherlock's grip tightens.
"Mmmmmm" John says and Sherlock feels it rumble through the doctor's body. It shoots right to his groin and he feels himself growing harder with each breath.
John pushes back from him enough to slip his hands between them and begin working on Sherlock's belt, which quickly clangs on the floor. The detective's hips thrust forward as John works the zip down and he grunts into John's mouth.
The doctor pulls back from their kissing, letting his tongue brush against Sherlock's lower lip as he does so.
"Like I said," the trousers drop and John cups him through his boxers, "greedy." Sherlock's head falls back and hits the door.
"Yes, I am."
Sherlock squeezes the cheeks again and pulls John close. "You still have trousers on, that isn't fair."
"You'll have to let me go if you want me to take them off." John stands on his tiptoes pressing his chest against Sherlock's. It presses John's erection into Sherlock's and the detective thrust forwards again. "Or you can kiss me again."
Sherlock leans forward, mouth open before it meets John's. Two hands hold the detectives head still as John explores with his tongue. Sherlock's grip tightens as he whimpers into John's mouth. The sound just encourages the doctor. He starts to lower himself down and Sherlock leans so that the contact isn't broken. Then suddenly he stands back on his tip toes pushing Sherlock's head back and brushing himself against Sherlock's erection.
Sherlock groans and takes a step forward. It's time to get to the bed. He stumbles though, trousers still around his ankles. He catches himself, but not before John has pulled back and prepared to handle the weight.
The doctor is laughing as Sherlock tries to pull his feet out of the trouser legs. He still has his shoes on and they are slowing him down.
"Hang on." John says and Sherlock stops moving. John sinks to his knees in front of him and Sherlock feels his erection twitch in response to seeing John on his knees. The laughing doesn't stop as John starts to undo Sherlock's shoes so that he can kick his trousers off.
The detective huffs, annoyed by the delay, but John leans forward and places a kiss into the hollow of Sherlock's hip. A hand comes down and rests on John's head. The doctor laughs again and holds the trousers against the floor.
"All right," he says. Sherlock pulls his legs out. As John moves to stand, Sherlock puts gentle pressure onto his head.
It's the Sherlock version of please, and John understands it perfectly. He pulls the boxers down and watches as the erection pops back up. Sherlock's head falls back again, in anticipation, and John takes him in his mouth.
"Oh god," the detective mumbles. Sherlock has no one to compare it against, but it appears that John is very gifted in this area. It has quickly become Sherlock's favorite part of sex. And John, at least up to this point, has been willing to accommodate him.
John is a very generous lover; Sherlock does have another point of reference in this area. He won't think about that a now though, not with John making him feel so good.
He is greedy. He can never have enough of John.
John always gives him what he wants, sexually anyway.
The detective's eyes shoot open and he makes a sudden decision. It's time.
He pulls back and pushes on John's head. The doctor looks up, surprised. Sherlock has never stopped him before.
"John?" Sherlock begins, surprised that he isn't nervous. It's going to hurt, he knows that. But this is John. He wants to do this for John. "I want to try."
John still looks confused for a moment, before a feral smile crosses his features. It sends shivers up Sherlock's spine, but the doctor pushes it away quickly.
The doctor stands and settles his hands on Sherlock's waist. "We talked about this, you don't…"
Sherlock smiles, typical John. The doctor wants to. It is obvious, more than obvious, but he won't push. Sherlock brings a hand up and cups John's check. He leans down and places their lips together, John accepts him eagerly.
It is hard and deep and John gets lost in it. Sherlock starts working on the doctor's belt, and reaches his hand inside the trousers easily. John is in briefs today, Sherlock likes that too. At the pressure John pulls back, lets out a gasps and thrusts forward. It is Sherlock's turn to smirk as he places a quick kiss on the tip of the doctor's nose.
"I make no promises, but I want to try. I want you." And Sherlock is actually surprised that he means it. John seems to enjoy it so there must be some aspect of it that is pleasurable. And if it is possible for him to enjoy it John will make sure that it happens.
John examines him for a moment, and Sherlock wonders what he is looking for. Odd that the world's only consulting detective doesn't know, but whatever it is, John finds it apparently. He nods his head accepting and is unable to prevent the wide, happy smile from crossing his face.
It makes Sherlock's heart tingle. He likes making John happy, almost more than sex.
John quickly steps out of his own shoes and trousers and allows Sherlock to push his briefs down. He leads the detective into the bedroom and lays him down on the bed.
"Are you sure about this?" John asks and Sherlock rolls his eyes. He hates repetition.
John will wait for an answer though, he's thorough like that.
"Of course, just tell me what to do." John reaches over and gets the lube out of the drawer. They'd used the entire bottle that John owned previous to their first encounter so Sherlock had to purchase more. Milk was a boring reason to go the store, lubricant not so much.
John's had been boring, well not boring, but plain and simple. Sherlock had been delighted to discover the multipack with 12 different flavors. That night he put a sample of each onto different places on John and sampled them and then allowed John to do the same. The flavor that best complimented John was Sensual Cinnamon, although Sherlock felt that none of them tasted badly. John had shown a preference for Pounding Passion Fruit.
Sherlock notes that this is the one that comes out of the drawer.
"It'll be easier if you are on your front, ass in the air," John states easily. Sherlock is tempted to argue, he's been in that position before. He didn't like it. But he will bow to John's superior knowledge in this and turns over, positioning himself as John directed.
He anticipates that he will feel vulnerable in this position, but he does not. He feels secure because John is here.
He hears the snap of the bottle and can picture John spreading the liquid over his fingers. "Last chance," the doctor says. For a split second Sherlock is tempted to stop, tempted to put an end to this, but takes a deep breath instead.
"Hang on just a moment." He says, reaching over and grabbing what has become John's pillow. The smell of the doctor is strong here and Sherlock brings it to his face and takes another deep breath. "Go ahead."
Sherlock bunches the pillow and turns his head awkwardly so that he can see some of John's movements around his hip. John smiles at him and Sherlock can see the excitement there, the arousal. He wonders momentarily if it should scare him; passion can be an overwhelming force. He dismisses the idea quickly. This is John and Sherlock has no doubt that the doctor will stop if asked, without hesitation.
"Here we go." John says and places a finger into the middle of Sherlock's spine. He traces the finger down slowly and Sherlock feels heat from inside his body, reacting to the touch, and the cool sensation of the lubricant. He likes the contrast.
The finger traces down his back and between his cheeks. Sherlock is relieved that his body doesn't betray him again at John's touch and instead seems to react favorably towards it. The finger circles his entrance for moment before continuing to trace along his balls Sherlock groans as John pulls on them lightly and buries his face in the pillow.
John opens the lube again and repeats the process, this time adding a few tugs on Sherlock's erection.
He does it one more time, and instead of tugging traces his fingers along a vein and around the sensitive head. Sherlock moans and thrust forward.
"John." It is a part warning, part command, and part pleasure. The doctor understands it all.
"All right," Sherlock hears. He opens his eyes, not realizing that he'd closed them. "I'm going to start with my index finger. I need you to relax though." Sherlock forces his muscles not to tense.
John stays in his line of sight using his right hand to grip onto Sherlock's thigh reassuringly as his left index finger starts circling.
John penetrates him slowly. It doesn't hurt exactly, but it is awkward. Sherlock likes it though. Sherlock watches the doctor's face as he begins moving the finger inside and out, it is full of concentration and arousal. John's tongue is sticking out of the corner of his mouth. The image makes Sherlock smile.
The more John moves the easier it gets and after a couple of moments John meets his eyes again. "Another finger," he states and waits for Sherlock's nod of understanding.
The lube is out again and Sherlock almost criticizes the liberal use, it's almost wasteful. He realizes though that too much is probably better than not enough in this situation.
"Relax," John says again and pushes in. Once again it's awkward, almost uncomfortable this time. But he seems to adjust quickly.
John meets his eyes again and Sherlock is expecting the announcement of a third finger, instead the mischievous grin returns. John stills his fingers and Sherlock feels him curl the tip.
He understands just a fraction of a second before the sensation courses through his body. He pushes back against John's hand then thrusts away from it. He manages to raise a hand and prevent his head from hitting the headboard.
He hears the exclamation of "Holy shit" but doesn't really recognize it as his own voice. He does recognize John's soft chuckle.
"Like that?" The doctor asks, unable to contain the smile.
Sherlock can only manage, "Oh my god, John." His heart is pounding and his breath is quick.
"Third finger," John announces. Sherlock gives his approving nod facing the wall, burying his face into John's pillow, and his fingers curling around the metal headboard.
"Relax," the doctor says for the third time. It's harder this time, but because of the anticipation of pleasure, not pain.
He adjusts even faster to three, this is probably because of the previous, not-to-be-thought-of experience. He pushes that idea away. He is ready move on. "Please John," he whimpers and the three fingers are removed. John adjusts behind him and he hears the container being opened again. He feels the motion of the bed as John coats himself thoroughly.
Sherlock's body is aching for release. He wants it as much as he's ever wanted anything.
"Are you sure?" John asks one last time. "This will be different."
Sherlock's fingers curl again and he nods. He whimpers out another, "please" and spreads his legs farther.
John positions himself and grabs a hold of Sherlock's hips.
For a moment it is excruciating, and then it passes.
"You feel so good," he hears the lower than usual voice say from behind and it makes him happy. It is worth it if John is happy. The doctor's breath is uneven and sharp. He is enjoying it. Sherlock feels full of John and it is wonderful. He feels the doctor's hand slid down and grab a hold of him. With one swift motion up and down Sherlock explodes and as John pushes past his prostate, the world goes black.
He hears his name as if it is being called to him from inside a well. It's black though, maybe he is in the well and they are calling down to him.
Fingers brush through his hair. "Sherlock, wake up. You need to take these." It's John, beautiful, sweet, happy John.
Sherlock opens his eyes and is greeted with a hesitant smile from the doctor. It is one of his least favorite smiles.
"Do you hurt?" John asks and Sherlock is confused. Why would he hurt? He does a quick mental inventory and is almost surprised to find that part of him does indeed hurt, very much. Then he remembers why. He smiles, that explains why the rest of him feels, wonderfully, gloriously satiated.
"A little," he responds. He notices a glass of water in one of John's hands and pills in the other. Those must be for him.
He props himself up on an elbow and almost loses his balance. His muscles are shaky and weak. He chuckles at the image of falling over while lying mostly face down on the bed. John looks puzzled. Sherlock chuckles at that too.
He takes the pills and tosses them into his mouth and then takes the water. He drinks down the whole thing, in need of hydration. He hands the glass back and watches John set it on the bedside table.
Sherlock then stretches his head up and puckers his lips. John gives him a quick peck and Sherlock settles his head back into the pillow, closing his eyes.
He realizes suddenly that there is something warm between his legs. He doesn't move but concentrates on the sensation. It's a compress. He also realizes the he can no longer feel the sensation of the lubricant spread over him.
John has cleaned him up and given him a warm cloth to help with the pain. Sherlock smiles, typical, wonderful, beautiful John.
He opens his eyes and John is lying next to him, looking reserved and concerned. Sherlock understands he doesn't like that there will be pain. Sherlock wants to laugh at how insignificant that seems now. He'd feared it for years, unnecessarily. Sometimes the pain was necessary.
"I love you." Sherlock says the words before he realized he'd thought them. He feels his eyes widen in surprise, shocked that they'd just came out.
John looks shocked for a minute as well, leaning back slightly to examine Sherlock more thoroughly. He is looking for that thing again, the thing that Sherlock can't identify.
Sherlock just meets his gaze.
After moment Sherlock's favorite smile crosses John's face. It is a goofy grin that reaches from ear to ear and it is reserved for the moments when John is completely happy.
Sherlock feels himself smile in response as John leans down and kisses him again.
"I love you, too," he whispers, his breath bouncing between Sherlock's face and the pillow. Sherlock takes a breath, inhaling John and his words. He holds them in his chest for a long moment before exhaling.
These have been the best nine days of his life, so far. He has a suspicion that they will only get better.