Chapter Text
"Is he alright?" John asked, as Greg came back into the flat.
“Yeah I think so. Holidays can just be hard for some people,” Greg noted. “He’s not used to this kind of gathering it seems.”
"Are you doing okay, Greg? I hope coming here helped a bit with the Christmas blues after the separation and so on," John asked.
“I’m okay. This has been really great.” Greg smiled and nodded. “Thanks for having me over.”
“Thanks for having us all over,” Molly added enthusiastically.
“Yes thank you John… and Sherlock,” Sally said with a rare smile. Anderson mumbled and nodded in agreement, his mouth full of trifle.
“You’ve both done very well,” Mrs. Hudson added proudly. “Why don’t I start clearing up? The hour is getting late and we should all leave you in peace,” she said, not too subtly.
“You relax. I’ll clean up,” Sherlock said, already starting to pick up the empty cups and plates. “Don’t want your hip going out before Christmas.”
“Yes we should be off too,” Anderson agreed, standing with a groan and moving to collect up their gifts and belongings. “We had a wonderful time, John. Thank you for having us along.” He shook John’s hand and Sally gave him a little kiss on the cheek. They both left Sherlock who was conveniently busy with the plates. “Bye Sherlock,” they called out as they headed to the door.
“Happy Christmas,” Sherlock called out, lifting his soapy hands as he waved in their direction.
Mrs. Hudson came to the kitchen specifically to give Sherlock a little squeeze and a kiss. “You did a lovely job. Come down tomorrow and I’ll make some tea in that gorgeous new set you gave me, and bake some cookies for you both.”
“Of course.” Sherlock kissed her cheek. She headed back out to give John a hug also and Molly before taking herself downstairs.
“Molly? Want a ride home?” Greg offered, knowing she didn’t drive.
“Oh. I… I was going to stay and help Sherlock with the dishes…” she said awkwardly.
“Oh no need, Mol. We have that under control. You’re a guest. Go with Greg. You don’t want to be waiting in this weather for a cab,” John said kindly.
“We’ve got it under control, Molly. Thank you for coming.” Sherlock smiled. “Let us know you both get home, okay?”
“Oh… sure… Yes of course,” she fumbled awkwardly. She walked around awkwardly in a circle a few times, trying to get her head sorted as she grabbed her things, suddenly feeling rushed.
“Thanks Greg, for coming and for taking Molly,” John said, reaching out a hand to shake but then ending up hugging his mate.
“No problem. Thanks again for tonight.” Greg gave John’s back a few pats. “It was great to take my mind off things.”
After Molly managed to get all her gifts, smiling and giggling once more about her cat jumpers as she packed them away, she gave Greg a nod that she was ready and then hugged John, as she gushed over the party.
Sherlock came out of the kitchen, to shake Greg’s hand and then helped Molly into her coat. “Be careful out there. It’s going to be icy.”
She turned and got up on her tiptoes and gave Sherlock a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you,” she said with a blush. “Don’t worry about the trifle bowl. We can sort that later,” she offered.
John made himself scarce back in the kitchen, taking over the washing up. He couldn’t watch Molly fawning over Sherlock any longer.
Sherlock decided to play host one last time, as he walked them downstairs and waited with Molly as Greg went to get his car. They stood in the cold, watching their breath create little condensation clouds in front of them, jiggling up and down to get warm. Neither of them had anything to say but Sherlock felt Molly’s eyes on him a number of times, as he glanced down the street waiting for Greg’s familiar car to appear. Finally, he pulled up and opened the passenger door for Molly. “Bye,” she said wistfully before finally jumping in. Sherlock waved goodbye and watched as they drove away. He locked the downstairs door and called goodnight to Mrs. Hudson before finally returning to the flat. He was exhausted. And relieved they were gone. There was a lot of cleaning up still to do, but he didn’t care about any of that. It had been hours. Hours of pretending, aside from a couple of little sneaky moments. He pulled his coat off and threw it on the back of John’s chair.
Then he walked past all of the mess and went straight to John in the kitchen. Without even waiting for a response, he grabbed John by the shoulders and spun him around. He pressed John back against the counter and kissed him deeply. “Finally,” he growled, the sound coming from deep within.
John moaned into the kiss and grabbed onto Sherlock’s suit jacket, pulling him tighter against him. God he had needed that. “I’m definitely going to enjoy unwrapping you tonight,” John sighed into Sherlock’s lips.
Sherlock smirked. “You’ll have to open the box under the tree first… so I can put it on.”
John’s eyebrows raised high. “Oh really?”
“Really.” Sherlock smirked and led John back to the tree.
He stood nervously waiting as Sherlock found the right box, slowly unwrapping it, looking back up at his partner twice as he did it. Sherlock waited patiently for John to open in. Inside were several black lacy undergarments.
John’s mouth went dry and he just looked up at Sherlock, mouth wide for a good long moment before he could speak. “Christ Sherlock, I’m glad I didn’t want to open this in front of everyone!”
Sherlock laughed. “I would have just said the store mixed up the boxes,” he teased. “Relax, John. I would never have let you open this in front of them.”
John put one hand on his chest. “I got such a surprise I think I might be having a heart attack,” he groaned. “Jesus. I… am speechless.” He stared back at the contents and back up at Sherlock.
“Want me to… try it on?” Sherlock smirked.
John just nodded, without a word. Sherlock had never done anything quite like this before. John hadn’t even considered it as a possibility. Sherlock seemed far too conservative for that.
“Lock the doors, will you? We don’t want anyone walking in on this,” Sherlock said, as he took the box and winked, going back to their bedroom to change.
“Uh-huh. I think that’s wise,” John said. His voice was husky now, the anticipation of what was to come suddenly overwhelming him. He just stood there in the middle of the lounge looking completely shell-shocked.
Sherlock stripped quickly, putting on the different pieces. The delicate thigh high stockings that clipped onto the lace garter belt. The underpants with delicate strings accentuating his arse which was completely out and a pouch to cup his cock and balls. Finally the corset. Everything was made in the finest of black lace. He pulled on a black silk robe but left it open to make sure John could see everything still, before walking back out.
John watched Sherlock walk slowly down the hallway towards him. He swallowed loud enough that Sherlock must have heard. He looked… “Breathtaking,” he sighed aloud. He couldn’t blink. His entire focus was on the black lace pieces and how they framed Sherlock’s body like no other clothing he owned ever had. The contrast of the dark fabric complemented his pale skin and made him look even more beautiful. John couldn’t have believed that was possible until this moment.
Sherlock slowly lifted the robe and let it slide down his body as he made his way to John. He stopped a few steps away, standing in front of John, and letting him take it in. “Like it?”
“Jesus,” John whispered reverently. He took a few heavy breaths in and out, shook his head in disbelief and without a word just bridged the distance between them in two large strides and grabbed Sherlock’s face, pulling him down into a passionate, heated kiss.
Sherlock groaned and kissed John back. He was glad John seemed to like his present and John had only opened one of the boxes so far.
Sherlock’s groan spurred him on and John moved his hands down Sherlock’s beautiful neck and along his collarbone to his shoulders. He grabbed Sherlock’s shoulders and pushed him back to the wall beside the kitchen door, pressing him into it, carefully but firmly and sliding him down the wall just enough to have leverage to kiss him more intensely. He couldn’t stop his heart hammering in his chest, the blood in his veins thrumming in his temples. His entire body was alive with desire and Sherlock was bearing the full brunt of it now. He only pulled back briefly to look at Sherlock, his face flushed already from the attention. “God, I didn’t think you could look any more beautiful.” He shook his head just taking in the sight for a short moment before kissing him again wildly. He wanted to devour his partner right here and now.
Sherlock pulled at John’s clothes, wanting to feel more of him. “Are you sure you like it? It’s not too… feminine?” He was worried that John would be disappointed that he didn’t have breasts to fill out the corset or the fact there was a cock in the underpants and not a vagina.
John pulled back from him. “Sherlock…” He shook his head again. “My god. You are…. so stunning,” he sighed. “I… I don’t think anyone has ever worn something like this for me – male or female. My brain is overwhelmed with all of it. The lingerie. You in the lingerie. The fact you are giving this to me as a most fucking sexy gift. I… God, my gift is going to be so…” John swallowed and reset his shoulders. He held Sherlock’s face with his hands. “I love everything about your body. And I always have. It confused the fuck out of me when we were just flatmates. I love everything about you. And then… you wrap it up in this sexy bloody package for me….” He grabbed one of Sherlock’s hands and moved it to cup his crotch. He was already hard with the excitement of it all. “I like,” he said with a smile.
Sherlock moaned happily, squeezing John’s bulge. “So hard for me. You always get so hard for me,” he said, nearly giddy from the sentiment.
John’s head dropped forward and he growled at Sherlock’s words. He pushed back then, and ripped off his jersey, then he pulled his shirt out of his tight tuck in his jeans and started on the buttons. He maintained eye contact with Sherlock not looking away. When the buttons wouldn’t give fast enough he pulled his shirt open, the rest of the buttons flying off the shirt as he gave another growl in frustration. He needed contact. He needed his skin to connect to that lace. Now. He came forward, kissing Sherlock again, more aggressively, joining their chests together, their skin finally in contact, as he pressed his growing bulge against Sherlock’s thigh, to give it some relief from the pressure in his jeans. “God, Sherlock.”
“I want you, John. Need you. Please,” Sherlock whined desperately.
John grabbed Sherlock, spinning him around to press his chest to the wall, lifting his arms up high above his head. He leaned in, pressing his chest to Sherlock’s back and running his hands up and down Sherlock’s ribs while kissing his shoulder blades and back. John’s hands then wandered down further. Finally cupping Sherlock’s exposed butt cheeks before running one hand around to Sherlock’s front to cup his cock as he kept the other on Sherlock’s chest, maintaining a tight pressure between them as he peppered Sherlock with kisses everywhere his lips could reach.
Sherlock moaned, rocking against John’s hands. “I love when you touch me. Makes my skin feel like it’s on fire,” he panted.
“I know. I know,” John agreed, his voice gravelly. “It’s the same for me. All that time… wanting you, and not being able to touch you… and now, getting to finally have my hands on you. It’s never going to be enough.” He breathed more heavily as the excitement built in them both.
“Take me to bed, John.” Sherlock pressed his arse back against John’s tented trousers in a deliberate act.
“Aaarrggghhh,” John moaned at the brazen contact. “You are an evil temptress aren’t you?” he sighed. He pulled Sherlock off the wall and lifted him clear off the ground, carrying him down the rest of the corridor and through to the bedroom.
“John!” Sherlock giggled with glee, clinging to John, his face nuzzling into John’s neck.
John practically ran the length of the corridor, then tossed Sherlock down onto the bed and stood there for a moment, just admiring the full length of him in the outfit. His curls were messier, his skin pink in all the places John had been kissing and nipping and pressing. Then, he kicked off his shoes and undid his trousers before crawling onto the bed to lie on top of Sherlock and join their lips again.
Sherlock wrapped his arms and legs around John, kissing him back desperately.
The extra contact made John lose his breath. “I don’t ever want to stop getting to do this,” he gasped. “Going so long without touching you tonight has just made me even more desperate to touch every part of you.” He kissed Sherlock’s neck and nibbled at his shoulder as he pushed his erection against Sherlock just needing some friction. “God, but you smell amazing.”
Sherlock rocked his hips up, rubbing his erection against John’s too. “You were ready to jump me ,seeing Molly touch me and kiss my cheek. I could see it in your eyes. So jealous, John. Don’t you know I only have eyes for you?”
“She wants you Sherlock,” he sighed into his neck, groaning at the extra contact Sherlock had added. “Can’t you see how much everyone always wants you? It drives me insane! I don’t want her touching you and fawning over you,” he growled. “You’re mine.”
“I’ve always been yours and I’ll always be yours, John.” Sherlock paused and held John’s face in his hands to make sure he was really listening. “I’m yours. Only yours,” he promised.
John breathed heavily and closed his eyes, trying to believe it. He slowed his breathing and then opened his eyes again to look at his Sherlock, his gorgeous detective laying under him, curls splayed out around his head like a halo. He nodded in a move of self reassurance. “I will tell everyone. Soon. I promise. Then it will feel better. Not for Molly, obviously. But then at least people might stop hitting on you when I’m standing right there.”
“She’ll be alright. She’ll find someone who’s actually attracted to women. That will be a good start. She’ll be much happier than she ever would be with me.” Sherlock smirked back at John.
“God why are we talking about Molly bloody Hooper when I already have you right here… under me,” he said, running a hand down Sherlock’s torso, enjoying the feel of the lace before grabbing at Sherlock’s cock through the fabric pointedly.
“John!” Sherlock gasped in shock at the unexpected move, his hips bucking up into John’s hands.
“Yes, my love? Problem?” John asked sweetly, teasing him.
“N-no. Keep going.” Sherlock bit his lip.
John smiled with a slow, satisfied grin, then continued kissing down Sherlock’s chest, running his hands over the lace corset, fascinated. “Is this thing… comfortable?” he asked, a little curious.
“Surprisingly, yes.” Sherlock chuckled. “I learned how to lace it in a way that’s for aesthetics but also not uncomfortable.” Sherlock hummed. “Do you like it?”
“Oh I do… I just was trying to decide how quickly to take it off you,” he chuckled. “But if you’re so comfortable…” he teased.
“You can leave everything on if you want. Or take it all off. I don’t mind.” Sherlock kissed John’s neck, grazing his teeth over it teasingly.
John sucked in a breath of excitement and then grabbed Sherlock, flipping them both, so Sherlock was on top of him for a bit. He grabbed Sherlock’s face to kiss him, enjoying having his partner looking down at him from above for a moment. But it was short-lived. “Wait. Hop up. I need to see you,” he finally growled. “I just want to look at you.” He held Sherlock’s face for a moment, then ran his hands through Sherlocks curls and then over his shoulders, helping to push Sherlock up, getting him to kneel on the bed instead. John shuffled himself backwards and rested on his elbows for a moment just looking at Sherlock kneeling on the mattress. “By god you’re a fine specimen,” he sighed, his voice conveying the awe he felt at his partner’s appearance.
“Going to study me, Doctor? ” Sherlock purred.
“Oh, I plan to give you a thorough once over, Detective,” he replied, just enjoying lying there, observing the beautiful man in front of him. “God, you always were so bloody sexy, taunting me in your suits and those shirts that looked like they might burst open at any moment. But this… This is something else entirely. I’m still getting used to the fact that I get to look at you like this.”
Sherlock grinned. “You know you only opened one of your presents.” He smirked.
"My...?" John looked confused. "What do you mean only one of…? Sherlock Holmes, what have you got up to? I thought we weren't making a fuss for Christmas. You promised!" John sat up, the sexy moment forgotten.
“It’s not that much. Relax.” Sherlock chuckled putting a hand out to reassure John and settle him back onto the bed..
“Are we enjoying this one first then? What on earth is your mad plan?” he asked.
“Mm-hmm.” Sherlock nodded seductively.
John took a minute to just look at him. This man he loved. “You’re always surprising me. Every time I think I have you figured out, you do something I never expected.”
“Gotta keep you guessing.” Sherlock said with a smile and leaned over to kiss John deeply.
John savoured the taste and feel of Sherlock’s lips, his tongue. John had always known Sherlock’s plump lips would be kissable. And god, were they! “Now I want you on all fours,” he growled softly, as he ended the kiss. “I want to see all of you… want to touch all of you.”
Sherlock shivered at John’s growl. “Then do it,” he whispered loudly in challenge.
John pushed Sherlock into position kneeling beside him to run his hands roughly up and down Sherlock’s back and then down his arms as Sherlock preened like a cat. “So beautiful,” he sighed. He leaned down and kissed between Sherlock’s shoulder blades and lay his head there as he looked back towards the lingerie and stroked at it reverently.
Sherlock blushed down his neck and chest, goose bumps spreading over his skin like wildfire. “ John… ”
John reached one hand under Sherlock, to stroke down his chest and stomach while the other hand continued on his back, as his cheek remained resting against his back, Sherlock supporting his weight as he balanced there. John wanted to keep as much contact against Sherlock as possible and give his partner all the contact at the same time and somehow it was working. He could feel the goosebumps as they came across Sherlock’s skin and he chuckled softly at the response. "You like that, huh?"
“Yes. God yes,” Sherlock panted. Just feeling John’s hands on his skin was enough to make his head swim.
John kissed his back again. "Easy, love, easy ," he said gently, like he was calming a stallion. He lifted himself back up and pressed Sherlock's shoulder blades, to make his partner relax his face down against the mattress. John leaned closer then and placed a kiss, gently, amongst Sherlock's thick curls. Sherlock had stretched his arms out on the mattress like a cat, stretching, arching, enjoying the contact. John ran his hands down Sherlock's outstretched arms, but before Sherlock could turn his head to get more attention, John had already returned to Sherlock's curls and then slowly kissed down the back of his neck and all the way down his spine, all the while still keeping his hands roaming, just touching Sherlock everywhere his fingertips could reach. He knew it would overload Sherlock's senses but he wanted to ravage him. He needed Sherlock to know just how much he appreciated the gift, this incredible, sexy gift.
Sherlock groaned into the bed. All of his senses were focused on John. John. John. John. JOHN.
"Shhhh, I've got you," John whispered as he travelled along Sherlock's body, pausing to just trace the lace patterns on the corset gently with his fingers. He stopped all his other onslaught of touch to do it, focussing on this one thing. He knew that would be just as maddening but this is what Sherlock had got him. This outfit. He knew Sherlock didn't want it to be over quickly. This was deliberate provocation to make John torture him delightfully and he was going to enjoy every second and make Sherlock suffer beautifully for it.
Sherlock was practically trembling under John, muscles twitching and nerve endings singing. His cock was leaking into his tiny underwear, a large wet spot soaking through the front already.
"You're the most irresistible... insatiable... intelligent... sexy genius." He leaned closer to whisper it against Sherlock's skin, kissing him between each word.
“John, if you don’t fuck me I swear to god I’ll have to fuck myself,” Sherlock groaned.
John chuckled. "Patience," he replied firmly, as he shuffled even further down the bed. He kneeled behind Sherlock, nudging his legs a little further apart to fit between them. The sight of his partner splayed out – pale skin, black lace and dark curls with little blushes showing where John had touched and nibbled slightly – was indescribably breathtaking.
"Jesus, Sherlock, you look... Fuck, " he sighed, unable to think of the words. John was overwhelmed by his own arousal and he put one hand on it for a moment, just gasping at how desperate he also felt. How was he supposed to last through this torture? He traced the fingers of his other hand, from the lace of the corset down to Sherlock's arse cheeks, finally leaning in to kiss them and lie his face against them as he reached under Sherlock and cupped his erection.
He could feel the moist fabric. “You want me," he said, sounding a little in awe of it.
“There’s never a time when I don’t want you, John.” Sherlock moaned. “I always want you. I want you to touch me and kiss me and hold me and fuck me. Always, always, always, always,” he babbled.
John closed his eyes at that, soaking in the words. His Sherlock, babbling away with desire for him. “This… this is beautiful. Leaving this open and ready for me. It’s perfect,” he said, peppering Sherlock’s bare buttocks with kisses, before separating those cheeks and licking all the way from his balls back up to his hole, while still holding that throbbing cock in one hand and massaging it.
Sherlock groaned loudly and his cock throbbed in John’s hand. “Oh John! ”
“More?” John teased. He pushed the cheeks apart further and started running his tongue around the entrance and poking it gently inside, teasing him, setting an unrelenting pace of hands and tongues, inside and outside.
He blocked out Sherlock’s mumbling and moaning, making him wait as he paused and put both hands affectionately on Sherlock’s back. He leaned over to kiss it. “Hang on, love,” he said gently as he moved completely away from Sherlock to get the lube from the bedside table, admittedly taking a little bit of joy at how Sherlock squirmed and whined at his absence. Moving quickly to get back in position, he wasted no time as he slicked his fingers up and returned to his routine of hands and tongues. He put one hand on Sherlock’s lower back to steady them both while the other hand stroked between his cheeks and massaged his hole, slipping inside. John was less gentle now, his own arousal starting to urge him forward too. “You want me, huh? You want this? More of this?” he teased.
“More, more. I can take it. Please, John,” Sherlock gasped with an excited nod, as he rocked back against John’s finger.
And John didn’t waste much time before he added his second, and even then a third finger as he massaged Sherlock, prepared him, fucking him with his fingers. His other hand slid around from Sherlock’s lower back, around his hip to hold onto his aching cock. John leaned down, laying kisses all over Sherlock’s lower back as he pushed Sherlock to the very brink. When he thought Sherlock might be too far gone, he pulled back, removing his hand and his lips and sat back on his heels to just look at Sherlock, to just watch him in the throes of it all.
Sherlock was panting into the bed. His head was a mess, his skin flushed, and his muscles twitching. He was so happy and frustrated at the same time. He was happy to be there. With John, being teased and kissed and touched. But it was frustrating as hell because John was teasing him and kissing him and touching him. He wanted more. Needed more.
Sherlock twisted slightly, turning his head to look back at John. “You’re so handsome.” He smiled lovingly.
“Relax, hot stuff. You’re going to get lucky,” John teased back. He removed his underpants and slicked his cock with the lubricant, sucking in his own breath at the wet contact with his excited appendage, which was struggling to control itself as well. He paused there, giving himself a little bit of attention for a moment. Fuck, but his life was amazing. He and Sherlock had definitely been well matched and it had been beyond his wildest dreams that it would be like this.
“God, Sherlock, you make me crazy,” he sighed, moaning as he stopped his hand, lest he finished himself off too quickly. He got up on his knees again and moved forward, pushing Sherlock’s legs a little wider apart still, gently settling himself in position.
Sherlock helped to spread his legs and arched his back, giving John prime access. “Of course I’m lucky. I’m with you.”
John pushed into Sherlock slowly and gently, fighting all of his instincts to rush. It was excruciating for them both, he could feel the build up of energy. “In my wildest dreams,” John groaned as he started to move ever so slightly. “In my wildest dreams, Sherlock… I never… thought this… would be us… that we would have this… that you would be so… fucking… stunning… and willing… ” He couldn’t speak anymore as his pace started to build. Sherlock pushed back against him, pressing John in so much deeper and they both let out a moan at the sensation. “Fuck, Sherlock!” John called out as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to come too quickly, but even just looking at the black lace was making him wild. “You… are… the… greatest… hottest… fucking… Aahhhhh ,” he let out as he stopped talking and just focussed on his pace, which quickened relentlessly, as he held onto Sherlock’s hips for leverage. He didn’t need to guide his beautiful detective. His lover was controlling everything despite his position of submission. He was silently torturing John as he gave John full access, full control, only letting out the sexiest, hottest little pleasure noises. “Fuck… fuck… I can’t… I’m not going to last…. Fuck Sherlock, fuck, fuck, fuck!” John started crying out as he felt things getting closer. He was holding on by a thread.
Sherlock loved when John got like this. Absolutely feral and desperate with need. He loved knowing that he could make John respond like this. John needed him like this. He fucked himself on John’s cock, meeting him thrust for thrust.
John leaned forward and grabbed Sherlock around the abdomen, pulling him closer, pulling him upright still on his knees so he was pressed against John now, the two of them upright, Sherlock’s neck bent backwards to rest on John’s shoulder. John adjusted his angle so he could continue to do what he needed to in this new position. It was rough now, desperate, and John reached down aggressively and grabbed Sherlock’s cock in his hand again. It wasn’t enough over the fabric so he fumbled his hand down inside it and grabbed Sherlock’s delicate skin firmly in his palm, pumping Sherlock’s erection as he jerked into Sherlock at the same time, matching pace for pace.
“John John. My John. Mine,” Sherlock babbled, as John stroked him.
“God damnit, fuck Sherlock fffffffuck!” John cried out, the sound of Sherlock’s voice saying his name so possessively, finally throwing him over the edge as he slammed his orgasm into Sherlock finally, continuing to pump Sherlock in his hand, though, all the while. His head dropped to Sherlock’s upper arm and he bit gently into the skin, his body processing the incredibly strong orgasm.
When he felt John come, he couldn’t hold back anymore, coming over John’s hand and the bed below them. He groaned happily as he felt John’s teeth in his skin. “Bite me. Mark me.” He slurred a bit, giddy with the excitement of it, desperate for people to see the marks to know he was owned.
John groaned at Sherlock’s words which just made the orgasm seem to continue with aftershock followed by aftershock as they froze there together. The two of them remained upright, just breathing heavily and sighing and swearing and just giving themselves a moment to deal with the intensity of it all. John finally pulled out of Sherlock gently and the two of them collapsed onto the bed, John pulling Sherlock onto his chest. His detective felt pliable, jelly-like. They stayed there in contented silence while they sucked air in and out of their lungs.
“Jesus Christ,” John finally groaned. “Well I think it’s safe to say I didn’t mind the Christmas present,” he said, finally breaking into giggles.
Sherlock giggled back breathlessly in response. “So the lingerie experiment was a success.”
John kissed his head. “Yes. So it seems.” He sighed happily and relaxed back just enjoying the moment. “Hey… what was with your brother tonight? He was acting very strange. Stranger than usual, I thought.”
Sherlock smirked a bit. “I think he may have a crush on Lestrade.”
John twisted slightly to look down at Sherlock, assuming he was kidding. “Lestrade?! Surely not! I was trying to set Lestrade up with Molly. Is Greg… Did I assume incorrectly? Is he even interested in men?”
“He thinks he’s Bi – like you.” Sherlock snorted. “He’s trying much too hard to get back with his wife, though. Probably to prove he’s completely heterosexual to his family. He had an overly religious upbringing, rulers to knuckles and the whole bit. So he hasn’t really been with a man since his early twenties and then he married his wife right out of uni. Honestly, trying to get back with her keeps him from having to confront his sexual feelings towards men.”
“Sounds familiar,” John muttered, cuddling Sherlock back to him. “I didn’t realise your brother had interests like that. Then again, that’s what I thought about you and I’m gathering after what we just did there, I have nothing to worry about,” he teased, giving Sherlock another kiss.
Sherlock turned and cupped John’s face in his hands to kiss him back tenderly. “Mmm, he’s tried to be an island unto himself. I don’t know if he’s ever even attempted to kiss anyone, let alone date someone. I think they could be good for each other, though.”
“Well…” John sighed, “I suppose I can shift focus. They did seem to be getting along nicely at dinner. Maybe a little nudge? I imagine your brother would spook easily, though. But it might be fun to try and push them together. Did I hear that Greg is going to work with him to help organise your family Christmas stuff?”
“Yes they are. They’ll be having dinner to discuss the plans.” Sherlock smirked.
“Right. Well then, this will be interesting. And he’s agreed to come to your family Christmas… voluntarily?” John asked, not convinced.
“Mm-hmm.” Sherlock nodded. “His ex is out travelling with her new man, so Greg wouldn’t be able to see her anyway over the holiday. And probably best that he doesn’t anyway. I was thinking of having him come either way so he stays out of trouble.”
“I could be wrong. But I think generally it’s Lestrade that keeps you out of trouble, my love,” John prodded with a playful nudge.
“Potato potato,” Sherlock commented with a shrug.
“Well, you are a potato, so that does make sense,” he said giggling. “Come on you… let’s get you out of this fetching outfit and have a shower. I want to leave the rest of the clean up until the morning though and snuggle you to sleep for now.”
“Mmm, if you say so.” Sherlock smiled and followed John to the bathroom, letting John strip him of his lacey outfit.
“It was lovely, Sherlock. Not at all what I expected. Thank you for my gift,” he said gently, kissing Sherlock’s shoulder and finding the bite mark there. “God. Was this okay?” he asked, running a finger over it gently. “I… don’t know what came over me. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologise. I’m quite pleased about it.” Sherlock hummed happily.
“You are, huh?” John asked, a little bit proud of himself. “I… it never occurred to me that lingerie would do that to me. It never has before. On women. And I’ve never been that… crazed before. Apparently you tapped into something I didn’t expect.” He laughed and turned the water on, moving over then to kiss Sherlock more tenderly. “I know we’re not saying… those words yet… but I want you to know you’re… this… us … it’s really important to me.”
Sherlock pressed his forehead to John’s. “It’s important to me too.”
“I know. I know it is. Thank you.” John stayed there just looking into Sherlock’s eyes. So much had changed in only a few short weeks with them and it still caught him by surprise. He was… happy . A feeling he wasn’t sure he’d felt in a long time. Not this sort of happy, anyway. He stepped under the water, holding out his hand for Sherlock to join him, groaning loudly as the warmth hit his muscles. “Well that was clearly a workout. My muscles have something to say about this old man being so athletic,” he said as he laughed freely.
“You’re still very fit, John.” Sherlock ran his hands over John’s muscles.
John leaned into Sherlock’s touch. Those beautiful fingers on his skin. “Well it’s a good thing too, if you’re going to keep being so bloody cheeky and luring me into situations like that.” He reached down and gave Sherlock’s butt cheek a little swat.
“Very, very good.” Sherlock grinned, holding John close to him.
“Right then, you bad influence, you. Let’s make this just a quick clean off and into bed. It’s late,” John said, grabbing at the soap and then lathering it up to rub over Sherlock’s torso and down into his nest of curls below to clean him. Then he soaped himself up quickly before soaping his hands again.
Sherlock purred softly, letting John take care of him.
“How are you feeling? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked, gently bringing his hands down to soap him around his buttocks and gently between, going slowly.
“I feel great. A little sore, but overall, good.” Sherlock sighed happily. “You?”
“Never better, my dear detective. Never better.” He smiled back and rinsed them both off, turning off the water, before stepping out and handing Sherlock a towel to wrap himself in. He quickly dried off, wrapped the towel around his waist firmly. Before Sherlock had finished drying, John grabbed him up in his arms and carried him to the bedroom.
“John!” Sherlock giggled and held on. “Mmm, my strong soldier.” He hummed happily to himself and then kissed his soldier.
John laughed back. “You’re far from a damsel in distress, mind you,” he teased. “I’m just impatient to get all snuggled and warm under the covers and if I let you preen and carry on in the bathroom like you normally do, I’ll freeze to death!” He put Sherlock back on his feet and grabbed the towel to dry Sherlock’s body for him, being gentle despite his impatience. Then he kissed Sherlock on the nose and poked him with a finger to push him backwards onto the mattress. “Hang on, I’ll get a cloth to clean the duvet. Do you want your pyjamas while I’m up or do I get to snuggle your bare skin?” he asked, already walking to the bathroom to get the flannel. The remnants of their wild sexual encounter was still soaking into the fabric of the duvet.
“Bare skin,” Sherlock agreed happily. “Why not just throw a towel down and we’ll change the sheets tomorrow?”
“Sherlock Holmes, it’s your nice set! The sheets will be fine, but I don’t want your duvet cover to stain. You get in and warm up and I’ll just spot clean it quickly, love. You’ll thank me tomorrow.”
“Fine,” Sherlock sulked, as he crawled under the covers. “I can always get a new set.”
“No, no,” John said, returning to the room and leaning over Sherlock to quickly scrub the cover. “Don’t start being all sweet now that you’ve been thoroughly debauched,” John scolded. “You had a fit last week when I tried to bring you breakfast in bed in these fancy-pants sheets. I’m just following your lead!” He paused and looked at his handy work. “That will do,” he said, tossing the wet rag over to the little stool at the side of the room and lunged forward. “You do look so gorgeous after I’ve fucked you,” he said, kissing Sherlock thoroughly before snuggling under the covers with him.
Sherlock giggled and cuddled against John’s chest. “I feel gorgeous after you fuck me.”
John smiled as he put his arm around his detective. They lay there quietly, just enjoying the comfort and then John sighed. “Listen, Sherlock, I really wanted to say sorry… thank you… no, sorry .” He let out a groan and put a hand to his face. “I wanted to apologise for… well, for making you wait a bit to let people know about us. I know you said it was fine, but it also would have been a nice opportunity to do it tonight, amongst our friends, and I just got too much up in my own head. So much has changed in the last few weeks and I just… I just wanted a normal night that wasn’t about that.”
Sherlock snorted. “It’s fine, John. Just promise we’ll tell people eventually. I… I don’t want to feel like I’m a secret or something that you’re ashamed of.”
John moved out from under Sherlock and grabbed his partner’s face. “No. Not ashamed,” he said with a very serious look, ensuring Sherlock could see and trust his face. “Not at all ashamed. I just want you to myself for a little bit longer, before we become a sideshow attraction of some kind. I want some of this, together, without anyone making a fuss. Do you think anyone suspected? Tonight?” he asked.
“My brother gave me a strange look at one point and I thought… but he was so busy trying not to fall all over Greg, so I think we’re safe.” Sherlock nuzzled into John again.
“Right. I’ll remember to keep an eye on him. I want to see what he gets up to anyway. This week is going to be interesting.” John settled back down and pulled Sherlock closer to him again.
After the party and the sex it didn’t take long for him to drift off to sleep.