Disclaimer: I do not own. Or make any money from this fic, that goes to Moffat and Gatiss, whose feet I bow down at XD
A.N. Ok a big fan of the Sherlock series, so here is a one shot for Sherlock/John. Rated M for a reason, seriously! So not a fan don't read!
The soft cries and moans, the mewls and groans that fell from kiss swollen red lips did nothing but cause John's hips to speed up, thrusting harder, trying to get deeper, the sound of flesh slapping off of flesh sounding obscenely loud in their small living room. His grip was already bruisingly tight and would leave a mark for a couple of weeks on pale skin that he knew bruised easily but at a particularly loud gasp and then cry he found his grip tightening even further, one hand gripping a pale, sharp hipbone, the other pressing into pale skin on a bony back keeping him bent over the back of the armchair.
Sweat was slicking both their bodies, dripping from his body to the one beneath his, his grip sliding slightly. Shifting he removed the hand keeping the pale body down, he wasn't going anywhere now if the pleas and sobs falling from his lips were anything to go by, instead without slowing down his thrusts he reached down and hooked a thin thigh and lifted it, hooking it over the back of the armchair and holding it there by gripping the back of the chair. The change of angle allowed John deeper and more speed, his body slamming into the heat surrounding him, his mind lost in a haze of pleasure, lust and need.
His fingernails were biting into the flesh of his hip and thigh, he was pretty sure a little blood was mixing in with the sweat now but it just made him pump harder, faster, deeper, more. He knew he should feel guilty about this, it had started out in anger, in fury it was more like, and even if Sherlock was more than willing now, begging John for more, his cries were of pleasure, his groans of pure delight as John's hard cock banged incessantly against his prostate with every thrust, his body was shivering and trembling with lust and pleasure, he had cum twice already and was nearly delirious with pleasure. By pure will John held his own orgasm back, the fury that had been pumping through his veins from when he stepped into the flat helping with that.
He didn't really know what had led him to this though, he had been furious with Sherlock, furious, disappointed and scared…no terrified. And it had manifested itself in his anger, cold bloody anger. He had been attracted to Sherlock, he had known that for a long time, he loved him. He got on his last nerve sometimes, frustrated him, confused him with his lack of feeling and understanding for the simplest human thing sometimes. But he loved him, he loved his brilliant mind, he loved his blunt abrupt manner, he loved his way of speaking, his thought process, he loved when he sulked like a five year old, he loved the slight childishness in his manner, he loved his damn violin playing at all hours and he loved the jealousy that Sherlock showed whenever John dated without realising why he was acting the way he was. It gave John hope, hope of a future together with him, but he had taken it slowly, stopped dating a couple of months ago and had been flirting with Sherlock gradually. Sherlock was a self diagnosed sociopath he struggled with emotions and relationships and John wasn't going to mess this up.
And then he had come home to find Sherlock holding a syringe over his arm looking up at him shocked and guiltily as he stared at John as he froze in the doorway staring at him in horror. He had clearly expected John to shout, tell him off, anything but what he did. Cold fury had washed over him, a roaring filling his ears as he stormed across the room, snatching the needle from Sherlock and throwing it into the roaring fireplace. Sherlock had shouted and got up to stop him only to have John's fist slammed into his face. Stunned he had staggered back allowing John time to grab him and throw him over the back of John's armchair. Without second thought he grabbed Sherlock's shirt and ripped it open and off his body before grabbing his arm and twisting it up his back in a way he knew wouldn't allow the other man to get free, though he was slightly smaller than Sherlock he was stronger.
Next he had unbuckled Sherlock's belt and tugged open his trousers before shoving them and his boxers to the floor. By this point Sherlock had frozen in shock of what was happening, John hadn't said a word to him so far. Shucking off his own shirt and unbuckling his pants he wetted his fingers with saliva before pushing one into Sherlock. He knew for a fact despite Sherlock's attraction to him that he had never done anything like this before and that his arse was still virgin, and no matter how angry he was he would never hurt Sherlock like this. He pumped his finger inside of Sherlock's tight heat slowly enough not to cause Sherlock too much pain but quickly enough that it would burn before pushing in another finger. Sherlock was shockingly quiet, squirming on John's fingers and making little grunting, pained noises as John thrust and scissored his fingers. His third was added probably a little quicker than he should have but the heat, encompassing heat around his fingers was mixing with the anger he was feeling and didn't lead to him taking things slowly.
Sherlock was barely stretched enough when John pulled out his fingers and tugged out his hard, aching cock before spitting in his palm and slicking his cock up. He lined himself up with Sherlock entrance, listening to the soft gasp that fell from Sherlock's lips before he slammed himself forward. Sherlock cried out, this time in pain as he was stretched wider than John's fingers had. John wasn't vain but he knew his cock was bigger than average and thicker too, curving slightly to the right when he was hard. He paused to allow Sherlock time to adjust as he wriggled on his cock, making small noises of pain while John fought the urge not to cum on the spot at the tight, hot, clasping heat of Sherlock's body. After a few moments he had released Sherlock's arm and moved to press his hand against Sherlock's back to keep him bent over the chair before he started thrusting.
Now Sherlock was starting to sob with the unfamiliar pleasure shooting through his body, the two orgasms making his body oversensitive, his cock rubbing against the rough fabric of the armchair with every thrust a hundred times more potent. His body trembled violently as the constant pounding against his prostrate dragged another orgasm from his body, crying earnestly now as his body told him that he couldn't take any more pleasure, it was turning to pain it as so strong. John's hands gripped on and to Sherlock's disbelief picked up even more speed, pounding into Sherlock's pleasure loosened and exhausted body, the rough panting, gasping breaths the only evidence of the strain on John. He was only mildly aware of the pleas and curses falling from his lips between his gasping breaths for John to finish.
John listened to the mixture of sobbing, pleading, words mixing in the air with the sound of their sweaty bodies slapping off each other and his panting. Among the mixture of single words Sherlock had long started choking out John's name like a mantra. Giving into the burning demands of his body, unable to hold back any longer John thrust three more times before yelling out his orgasm in the form of Sherlock's name as he slammed as deep as he could into Sherlock's body and came deep within Sherlock, coming harder and longer than he ever had before.
With a groan he collapsed against Sherlock's back trying to get his breath back, their skin sticking together with their sweat. Sherlock was trembling beneath him, his breath coming out in light sobs as his body twitched and shook with the after effects of his orgasms. Finally John managed to get himself together enough to pull himself from Sherlock's body getting a whimper of disagreement out of Sherlock, releasing the death grip he had on Sherlock's hip and thigh he stepped back on slightly trembling legs. Slowly he wrapped his arm around Sherlock's waist where he was still lying prone over the armchair, he guided him to the fireplace and lay him down on top of their rug before making his was shakily to their bathroom. Quickly rinsing himself down he soaked and rung out a cloth and made his way back to Sherlock.
What he found was Sherlock curled up on his side crying. Guilt slammed into John, Sherlock mustn't have been as willing as he had tricked himself into thinking he was!
"S…S…Sherlock I am…I am so…so sorry!" John groaned feeling sick to his stomach at the thought that he had just raped the person he cared most about in the world. However at his words Sherlock tiredly lifted his head and looked at him stunned.
"You haven't left! I'm sorry, I'm sorry I promise I won't do it again, just don't leave me please!" Sherlock sobbed harder flopping back onto his side and covering his face. John felt his heart stop at the sight, the fear in Sherlock's voice that he had left. He realised with relief that Sherlock wasn't crying because he had been unwilling, it was because he had thought John had left. Making his way over to Sherlock he knelt by Sherlock's body and tenderly washed the semen off of Sherlock's stomach and chest before moving to wipe his own semen from where it was trickling out of Sherlock's arse and down his milky white thighs. With a slight sting of regret he wiped away the blood that he had indeed drawn with his nails. Once he was done he threw the cloth to the side and lay down in front of Sherlock and tugged him against his chest.
"I'm not leaving you Sherlock," he sighed speaking for the first time since he had come home.
"I'm sorry!" Sherlock burst out wrapping his arms tightly around John and pressing against him.
"Sherlock…I never…ever want you to do that again. Do you know how easy it would be for you to overdose? How easy it could be for me to loose you! I…I don't know if I could survive if I lost you, but to your own hand. Please Sherlock, promise me you won't do drugs!" John pleaded holding onto Sherlock tightly, delighting in the feeling of having Sherlock in his arms and pressed naked against him despite their discussion topic.
"I do not w…want to disappoint you John, I…I do not want to promise something and then let you down," Sherlock sniffed, burrowing into John's chest. Sherlock's chest was still heaving irregularly and John could feel the wetness of his tears on his chest, which was the only reason he pushed back the anger that rose in him at the lack of promise, at the possibility of this happening in the future.
"How often have you been using again Sherlock?" John sighed, but he burrowed his hand into Sherlock's hair when he felt him tensing.
"I…I haven't, this was the first time since…" Sherlock cut himself off and John could feel him starting to curl up on himself as much as he could in the position they were in.
"Since when Sherlock?" John urged, kissing Sherlock's temple in an attempt to encourage him.
"Two months before we met. I was mostly clean but still used and then…well…" Sherlock refused to look up at John, even when he tried to lift his chin.
"You stopped using because of me?" John guessed.
"I knew you wouldn't like it, and I did not want to make you leave any quicker than you already would have, and the urge wasn't there as much, it made it easier to ignore and while I wanted it sometimes I would come and sit with you or wake you up to go on a case or something," Sherlock rambled, his hands tightening and loosening slightly painfully in the hair on John's chest.
"So why now?" John asked, his mind spinning at what he was being told.
"Because you're leaving," Sherlock muttered, and once again John could feel tears dropping onto his chest.
"Sherlock I'm not leaving! Why would you think that?" John asked shocked, wrapping his arms around Sherlock tighter when he weakly tried to pull away.
"Whoever you are with it must be serious, you have not brought her to the flat so clearly you do not want me to scare her off, meaning it must be very serious, and you must have been with her today so…."
"Wait! Wait Sherlock, I'm not seeing anyone, why do you think I am?" John, as normal, was completely lost with the leaps and bounds that Sherlock's mind had made, in this situation though the genius had made leaps and bounds in the wrong direction.
"You have not been seeing anyone publically lately or brought any women back to the flat so clearly you are seeing someone, and have apparently been for a while and just haven't wanted me to scare them off. You have been out and bought new jumpers and shirts that highlight your eyes and make you look slimmer and more toned, you have been saving electrically more and more often, you have been keeping your hair cut to the length that you keep when you are feeling good about yourself and want to try and make an impression, it is the soldier in you you revert back to the closer cut hairstyle, you bought yourself new shoes and a new aftershave, you bought dress trousers two weeks ago - the type that you would wear on a special date and…."
"Sherlock, Sherlock! Stop. I. Have. Not. Been. Dating. Anyone!" John said between littering kisses over Sherlock's face. The great idiot!
"But…then how do you explain your behaviour?" Sherlock scowled at him, clearly thinking he was lying.
"Sherlock, it was all for you," John sighed.
"I…what?" Sherlock partially sat up, hovering over John as his eyes furiously searched John's face for any trace of a lie. In response John lay back, placing one behind his head and looked back as he spoke.
"It was all for you. Sherlock I've been trying to impress you and flirt with you for months. I stopped seeing people because I realised that I was in love with you, but I know how unsure you are with things like emotions and relationships, and I didn't want to scare you off so I was taking it gradually," John smiled weakly at him aware they were liking naked in front of the fire after he had just fucked Sherlock over the back of their armchair.
"I…oh…oh!" Sherlock blinked as his mind quickly connected all the dots correctly this time before he dropped onto John's chest and buried his face, not before John had seen the explosion of red spreading rapidly across his cheeks. "I thought you were seeing someone and Mycroft…he…he told me that I should probably expect you to be leaving soon, that you must be fed up of me by now and…and I couldn't…it was…I…"
"Sherlock, love, I'm not going anywhere, and I'm going to hit Mycroft next time I see him! Sherlock Holmes I love you! More than a full nights sleep and sanity I love you," John smiled when Sherlock raised his icy eyes to meet his own before he cautiously leant forwards and brushed their lips together. John cupped the back of Sherlock's head and guided him in a deep, languid kiss that said more than either of them would be able say.
"Imgnfhd," Sherlock muttered into John's neck after several moments of them just enjoying kissing each other.
"What was that?" John blinked.
"I said, I think, I'm fairly sure, but I've never before and I don't know but…"
"I'm glad you love me too," John grinned pecking Sherlock's lips. "Sherlock…I'm sorry about, what I did, I shouldn't have…"
"You regret it?" Sherlock asked wide eyed looking slightly worried.
"Not having sex with you but the way I did it. Our first time shouldn't have been out of anger, and I hurt you," John frowned running his hand over the cuts on Sherlock's hip.
"You didn't hurt me…I…I quite enjoyed it. Perhaps not quite as vigorous or drawn out next time though," Sherlock went back to tugging at John's chest hair, clearly out of nerves.
"Next time?" John grinned covering Sherlock's hand.
"That is if you would like…I do not mean to…"
"Then we had better get a nap in, because when we wake I'll show you how good it is nice and slow," John was leering now but he couldn't help himself as he watched the flush rising up Sherlock's pale skin.
"John…you aren't going to leave me?" Sherlock asked quietly after a few moments of lying.
"Never, I will never leave you Sherlock, I promise. You're my soul mate, life would be too boring without you there," John smiled leaning down to kiss Sherlock's tempting cupid bow lips.
"I won't leave you either, I promise," Sherlock smiled honestly at John before settling back down resting his head on John's chest.