John sighed contentedly and drew his legs up to his chest on the sofa. Sherlock sat on the opposite end, fixated on the television. The doctor yawned, stretching his arms and letting one rest nonchalantly on the back of the sofa behind Sherlock's head. The detective did nothing. John reached out and stroked a lock of the other man's dark hair, twisting it gently between his fingers and dragging his nails lightly over Sherlock's scalp. Sherlock shivered involuntarily and frowned, casting his gaze to John, who was smiling slightly and jiggling his foot against his leg. The doctor withdrew his hand and patted the spot next to him on the sofa. Sherlock's frown deepened; clearly he wasn't used to being hit on. John rolled his eyes and scooted up the sofa to press gently against the detective. "Oh" Sherlock said as John snuggled into his thin body. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you wanted to..."
"It's fine" John replied, "It's all fine."
Sherlock nodded, lifting his arm and slipping it around John's waist cautiously. The doctor rested his head on the taller man's shoulder and closed his eyes; this was exactly where he always wanted to be.
The detective watched the credits roll on the show they had been watching, or rather, not watching in his case. Sherlock had been too preoccupied revelling in the warmth and heat radiated by the small doctor curled against his hip. He bent his head down and pressed a quick, soft kiss to his new lover's cheek. John smiled, stretching up to kiss him back full on the mouth. "I think I'd like to take you to bed now John" Sherlock rumbled, unaware of just how unbearably sexy he was being.
"I think I'd like that" John replied, grinning as the taller man stood and offered a hand to John. The doctor accepted, and Sherlock pulled him up, all the way off his feet to kiss him in mid air as he wrapped his long arms around the little man. "Great, now I feel small" John muttered good-naturedly when Sherlock put him down.
"Sorry" Sherlock said, bending down, his elegant legs folding beneath him until he was on his knees. "Better?" He asked, resting his forehead against John's stomach and closing his eyes.
John laughed, and Sherlock felt the vibration of his low chuckle resonating within him. "Thank you" The doctor murmured, stroking a hand through the other man's hair like he used to dream of doing. "Well," John said, helping Sherlock up from his knees to stand his full height above him, "shall we?"
The detective nodded, taking John's hand and following him into his bedroom. They reached the bed and Sherlock hesitated fractionally. "Wait, I have to, I want to-" He stuttered to John. The doctor nodded.
"OK, take as long as you need." He replied with a shy smile. This was only their second time, and they were nearly as nervous as the first, each man cautious of the pressure on them to get this right. When two of the best friends in the world become lovers, it can lead to many complications, and John was afraid he would push the other man too far and hurt him or drive him away. Sherlock, for his part, was just afraid of losing John. If he lost John, what was the point? John was The One, if Sherlock lost him, he could never live with himself.
The detective went into the adjoining bathroom and shut the door behind him. Once alone, he began to fret and pace the room in his indecision. What was John expecting from him? Would it be the same as the first time? Sherlock groaned and sat down heavily on the toilet seat, turning the thoughts over in his head and working himself up until he was certain John could never love him and would never want to stay with him as soon as he found out how Sherlock was still rubbish at sex the second time round.
John sat on Sherlock's bed, his ankles crossed, and waited patiently for the detective to return so that they could be together. He ran his fingers through his sandy hair and worried the nape of his neck thoughtfully. He didn't know how they should go about it again. The first time had been great, more than great, pretty bloody spectacular, but John didn't want to ruin what they had by rushing into new things he wasn't even sure of himself. John had been with men before, but they were short flings or poorly considered relationships which barely lasted a week. However, that was sufficient time for him to gather some firsthand knowledge of the basics.
Before long, it had got to the point where both men had sickened themselves with fear and could hardly bare to face the other, let alone be intimate with them. Sherlock was shaking with worry, and he had begun tugging painfully at his hair in his confusion. John lay on the bed and stared blankly at the ceiling, hands laced over his stomach. He stood abruptly and stomped over to the bathroom, wrenching the door open and barging into the little room. "John?" Sherlock said in alarm, raising his head where it had been cradled in his hands. The doctor marched up to the other man and took his face in his hands; he allowed himself a quick glance at Sherlock's face before he brought the detective's lips to meet his and kissed him deeply.
"Do you trust me?" John asked tentatively, caressing Sherlock's cheek with his thumb. The detective nodded. John took him by the hand and led him into the bedroom. Sherlock sat on the bed and fiddled with the sleeve of his shirt uncomfortably. John wasted no time, crawling onto the bed and over to the detective. Sherlock scrambled backwards a bit to accommodate the doctor, who approached him and pushed him lightly onto his back. The detective felt vulnerable, an unfamiliar emotion to him, as John slowly crawled atop him and straddled his hips. John smiled gently at the other man, settling comfortably with Sherlock's hips between his thighs. He bent down and ran his fingers through Sherlock's hair, kissing him lazily and stroking the pale skin of the detective's chest. "I want to try something, you have to relax OK?" Sherlock merely kissed him harder, slipping his arms around John's waist and drawing his body closer.
"I want you John" He whispered "I want you"
John shivered with desire, running his hands over Sherlock's bare back arched before him. The detective's spine protruded sharply and John could feel the ridges of the other man's exposed ribs beneath his fingertips. He reached underneath Sherlock's body and stroked his chest soothingly, rubbing slow circles and mapping the slight muscles of his abdomen tightening and flexing beneath him with the tension of his imminent release. "Relax" John whispered to him, trailing his hands over Sherlock's thighs and between his legs teasingly. The detective stifled a moan and pushed back against John. "You have to help me Sherlock, I don't want to hurt you" The detective groaned deeper as John rubbed the sensitive spot just before his opening.
"Yes, John, anything" He gasped helplessly, fingers digging into the mattress. John took a breath and placed his hands on the detective's hips for support.
"Are you comfortable?"
"Yes" Sherlock hissed desperately. John sighed and bent his head to press a kiss to the base of Sherlock's spine lovingly. He teased Sherlock's opening experimentally, pressing the tip of his aching member against the muscle and penetrating him with a short, sharp thrust. John gasped and his body trembled with the pleasure. Sherlock let out a little whimper of pain and wriggled against him uncomfortably.
"Sherlock?" John breathed, trying hard to be concerned about his friend while attempting to control his overwhelming desire to thrust deeper into him.
"I'm fine, it's OK, go on" Sherlock stuttered, his eyes squeezed shut.
John wrapped his arms around the detective and closed his eyes, pressing their bodies closer together. Sherlock huffed beneath him as the angle increased the intensity of the pain where they were connected. "God Sherlock I'm so sorry, I never wanted to hurt you" John mumbled against his back.
"I can do this; just let me try, please!" Sherlock moaned. John let out a satisfied purr of contentment and arched his back to the detective. He pulled out fractionally and shivered with pleasure at the sensation of being inside Sherlock. "Oh...John" The detective rumbled as the other man began to thrust slowly into him. His whispers became a low groan, then a shout of ecstasy as John bucked his hips into him faster and their breathing became ragged, and John began grunting adorably. Sherlock closed his eyes, this was even better than the last time; all he could focus on was the rhythm of John pushing inside him and the constricting of his abdomen as he came close to his release. Then with one deep thrust, John his prostate and Sherlock screamed.
Sherlock lay flat on his back next to his friend in his double bed, his chest rising and falling erratically as the thrum of his heartbeat pounded in his ears. He managed to calm himself, stretching his full length over the cool sheets and relaxing his tensed muscles.
John closed his eyes, feeling exposed beneath the thin bed sheet they had pulled up to cover themselves, having to discard the duvet earlier as things grew decidedly...hotter. Sherlock moved his hand slowly over to the other side of the bed and found John's hand, covering it with his own and lacing their fingers together. The doctor turned his head to look at his new lover, and Sherlock met his gaze with a wide ecstatic grin which was mirrored on the face of his new lover.
John rolled onto his side and released Sherlock's hand, cuddling into his side like last time. The detective happily wrapped his arms around the smaller man, drawing his body close to his own. John tucked his legs between Sherlock's and the detective closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against John's. They fell asleep with smiles on their faces.
"John" Sherlock whispered loudly, nudging the sleeping form of the doctor with his nose and kissing his cheek. John mumbled something in his sleep and squeezed the detective tightly round his middle. A few more little pokes and a cheeky pinch of his arse later and the doctor finally stirred.
"Mmmmmooorning" He drawled, butting his head against Sherlock's neck lovingly.
"Good morning John" Sherlock said, smiling as the doctor rubbed his eyes and blinked up at him blearily.
"God you're gorgeous" John muttered almost resentfully, snuggling into him. Sherlock chuckled and smoothed his hands over the smaller man's back and over his buttocks thoughtfully. John shivered and grinned. "How are you feeling?"
Sherlock hesitated before answering. "...sore" He said after a while.
"I'm sorry, I got a bit carried away" John apologised, pulling away from him nervously. Sherlock shook his head and pulled him close again.
"No, I liked it very much. It hurt at first, but it was a good kind of hurt, I wanted it" He mused.
"I'm glad; it was never my intention to hurt you Sherlock"
"I'm fine" The detective lied, feeling the tenderness aching between his buttocks uncomfortably.
They lay quietly for a moment before Sherlock shifted and slid apart from John. "I'll be back in a moment" He said, getting out from under the covers and padding lightly to the bathroom. Before he was halfway across the room John flinched.
"Sherlock, you're bleeding!" he said suddenly, noticing the smear of crimson streaked over the detective's pale skin. Sherlock turned and swiped a hand at his buttocks in embarrassment. John peeled back the covers and peered at the sheets where the bright pigment of the other man's blood blotched the white cotton shockingly. "Oh Sherlock" He murmured, glancing at the detective stood naked and hurt before him.
"I wasn't going to say anything" Sherlock replied, staring fixedly at the floor.
"Please, you have to tell me if you're hurt" John said, getting out of bed and joining the detective, taking his hand and standing close to him so their bodies touched.
"It hurts John" Sherlock whispered, closing his eyes.
"I'll fix it" The doctor said, stroking a thumb over Sherlock's hip and leaning into him.
"Good God" The familiar pompous voice blurted from the doorway. John jumped away from his new lover, but Sherlock held his hand and turned the doctor's body towards his to shield him and cover his dignity.
"Mycroft" Sherlock greeted his brother icily. The elder Holmes stood frozen with his hand on the doorknob and the famed umbrella dangling from his forearm. Mycroft nodded his acknowledgement and eyed his little brother's naked form wrapped around the doctor with feint embarrassment.
"Hello, Doctor Watson" He said pleasantly. John looked up from where he had shoved his head against Sherlock's chest and screwed his eyes shut; hoping desperately that this unbearable situation was just a dream.
"Hello Mycroft" John replied, squeezing Sherlock around the waist and turning his head to offer a strained smile in the imposing man's general direction. The detective moved his hands up and stroked the back of John's neck, dipping his head and resting his chin on the smaller man's shoulder.
"Go away!" Sherlock mumbled, pressing a kiss to the soft bare skin of his doctor's shoulder and closing his eyes.
Mycroft nodded awkwardly, turning away from his brother and his flatmate turned lover out of courtesy. This was certainly intriguing. For all he knew, his little brother was a virgin, having never had a single person to care for in his life. Mycroft should know, he had installed the security cameras in every corner of 221B, including Sherlock's bedroom, and that place saw less action than the mortuary.
How, then, had he missed this? Him, the man pretty much in charge of the British government, had been unable to notice when his brother lost his virginity? He sighed to himself, settling into the armchair and waiting for the pair to finish whatever it was they had been doing.
John turned to Sherlock, who released himself from his grasp and turned away from him. "Sherlock-"
"I'm fine John!" He snapped irritably, striding to the wardrobe and grabbing a tee shirt, pants and jeans. John stared at him awkwardly, a hand hovering in front of his genitals, suddenly feeling very exposed. The detective dressed, pulling on the shirt. He was about to pull up his boxers when he felt a warm hand on his bare skin. John smoothed a hand over the detective's bum and removed the feint trace of blood on his pale flesh. Sherlock looked at him and smiled his thanks, beckoning the doctor over to the wardrobe and fetching him some clothes. John looked at the pair of boxers, jeans and plain white shirt before pulling them on. Had someone told him a few weeks ago that he would be dressing in his flatmates clothes after sex he would have never believed them. Sherlock turned to the other man and bent his head to kiss him sweetly one more time before they faced his brother.
Sherlock and John entered the room holding hands and smiling slightly. Mycroft offered a tight lipped smile in return and watched in amusement as his brother tried in vain to take a seat in his favourite chair. The detective lowered his behind into the soft leather but flinched and stood up again abruptly. Mycroft stifled a chuckle. John flashed a pitying look at his friend and took the seat instead as Sherlock stood behind him.
The detective groaned inwardly as his rear end failed to comply with his intentions of sitting down. That particular area had been subjected to some rather new activity recently, and the pain was too much to put pressure on.
"What do you want Mycroft?" Sherlock growled, resting his hand on John's shoulder protectively and kneading his muscle in a weird nervous massage. The doctor reached up and placed his hand over Sherlock's reassuringly. Mycroft stood and swung his umbrella thoughtfully.
"Nothing, dear brother, nothing of importance. Besides, I wouldn't want to interrupt."
"Is that supposed to be funny, Mycroft?" John said suddenly, hating the smug expression on the other man's face. Startled by the outburst, Mycroft took some time to reply.
"Not in the slightest, John. I wish you both the very best of luck." Sherlock scoffed at this, raising an eyebrow. "Really." The elder Holmes reaffirmed. Sherlock nodded.
"John, may I speak to you for a moment alone?" Mycroft asked. John closed his eyes in frustration. He followed Sherlock's brother into the hall, conscious of the weary glance from his lover.
"Mycroft this is ridiculous, I am not having the big brother talk with you! I care about Sherlock deeply, you know that."John hissed when they were out of earshot.
Mycroft nodded "Very well. But know that if you ever hurt him, I have people who can make you regret you were ever born John Watson." he said with a pleasant smile.
"MYCROFT!" Sherlock roared, storming into the hall and taking John by the waist possessively. "How dare you threaten him?" He said.
Mycroft Holmes simply rolled his eyes and started down the stairs. "Take good care of each other" He gave as a parting call. Behind him, Sherlock and John embraced in the doorway of 221B Baker Street. His brother was finally happy, and that was enough.
The two friends retreated into the flat, their arms wrapped around the other's waist comfortably. This was it now, the first step to the rest of their lives.
John Watson was Sherlock's first love, his first night being intimate with another person, and his first true friend. He was the one, the only one, whom the great Sherlock Holmes would ever love.
His best friend and his lover.
His carer and his protector.
His work, his love, his life.
His first, and his last.