Holmes had been a virgin that day he had 'died'. Sebastian had silently laughed at that idea. Jim had always called him 'the virgin', but Sebastian had always thought Holmes and Watson had fucked at least once. He couldn't imagine how two men, who had lived together for two years had never even tried to fuck each other. But Holmes, nor Watson, were nothing like Jim and Sebastian.

He wanted to fuck Holmes just because he could; and because he hated him. Jim was dead and Holmes lived. The man should have died and Sebastian wanted nothing else but to kill him. But Jim had always been right about one thing: he and Holmes were alike. He had always hated the comparison, always believing that Jim was the better man. But now that he was dead, who was left? Only Holmes. It was now that Jim was dead that he saw it too; how much Holmes was like him. How intelligent and utterly impossiblehe was as well. He wondered how Watson survived without giving Holmes a proper fuck to shut him up when needed.

He had never expected Holmes would allow him to fuck him. Little did he know that Holmes too had a sentimental meaning behind it all. Sebastian, like John, was a soldier, who had recently lost someone he loved. Both men had been the companion of a genius, forced to deal with their complicated personalities every day. Sebastian, in many ways, was Watson.

The first time they kissed lead straight to the bedroom. Holmes had sat in his armchair, Sebastian on the table in front of him. The consulting detective's fingertips were touching and he looked at Sebastian from over the tops. Both men didn't move. Holmes had taken him in shortly after he had been capture, and he had been imprisoned ever since. He had regained enough strength to escape, but hadn't done so ever since he made the link between Moriarty and Holmes. It was too fascinating andtoo promisingto leave that behind.
Sebastian had suddenly shifted forwards, pushed Holmes' hands away and slammed his lips against the other's, ready to fight the man if a struggle broke out. He was going to have Holmes, right here and right now, even if the man didn't want him too. He had never liked to rape someone but if Basher Moran wanted to fuck, he would.

Holmes was taken by surprise but didn't struggle. His hands grabbed Sebastian's shirt, pulling him closer until the man shifted off the table, grabbing Holmes by his shirt as well. But he wasn't going to sit on the man's lap. There wouldn't be any foreplay. Sebastian stood up, lifting Holmes up by his shirt and tore it open. His hands then close around the man's neck and he swung him around, the man holding himself ridiculously limp as he allowed himself to be thrown down onto the settee. Sebastian approached the sofa, unbuckling his belt, Holmes looking up at him, his eyes wide with curiously, pupils as big as saucers.

'I hope for your sake,' Sebastian said, opening his trousers and unzipping. 'That you've got some sort of lubricant.'

'Petroleum jelly,' Holmes panted and nodded at the kitchen. 'I use it to stop battery terminal corrosion.'

'Whatever,' Sebastian scoffed and entered the kitchen, following Holmes' instructions and retrieved the jar.

When he came back Holmes was still where he was, as if he was afraid to move. This was when Sebastian figured he was indeed a virgin and a pleased grin spread on his face. He licked his lips, considering himself lucky that he had stumbled upon a virgin; he hadn't had one in quite a while. There was nothing special about virgins, but it was always rather fun to be the one to take that away from someone. Oh, if Jim could see them now… the man would be proud of his Basher.

He forced himself on top of Holmes, turning him onto his stomach. Holmes gasped but didn't struggle as Sebastian tore his trousers and pants down. He scooped up from jelly from the jar and forced his fingers into Holmes' arse. Sherlock gasped, arching his back, moving forwards as if trying to get away from Sebastian's fingers. But the sniper grabbed Holmes' head and forced him to stay on all fours, digging a second finger in and soon a third. This was what he hated about virgin men though; they needed more time to get ready. But fuck, he didn't care if Holmes would get hurt after this.

So he withdrew his fingers, pushed his own trousers and pants down and guided himself into the other man, who gasped loudly, biting the seat of the sofa, his nails scraping over the fabric as he braced himself. Sebastian pushed in as deep as he could before starting to pull out again. And in. And out. Until he was sure Holmes' tight arse could handle it. That was when he started to thrust, hard and fast.

He pushed Holmes' shirt up to his shoulders and over his head, exposing the man's lean but muscular back. He was differently built then Jim was, but God did he like the look of that clean, cutless, scarless, smooth back. He put his mouth down on Holmes' right shoulder blade, digging his teeth into his flesh, deep enough to leave two half circles, red and raw, printed on his pale skin. It was only a matter of time before that back had lost its' smoothness.

Every thrust, every hard pump, Holmes gasped, rocking forwards every time Sebastian rammed into him. Sebastian closed his hand around Holmes' cock and not entirely to his utter surprise, the man came after a few strokes. But Sebastian wasn't done yet. He had lost a lot of strength and vitality the past few months, but he could still last longer than Holmes could. His fingers covered with Holmes' cum, he forced his fingers into the man's mouth, making him taste his own fluids. His hand then moved down to Holmes' throat, dangerously closing his hand around the column, moving it to the man's neck and pushing him down rather violently. He grabbed his hair again, forcing his head down as Sebastian closed his eyes and pumped. Ten times before he came, throwing his head back and gasping for air, tears in his eyes as he realised; it didn't matter how often he would fuck Holmes the next few times. He would never be James.