Chapter Text
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Sherlock was irritated at the fact that John had made him wait at the club while he finished getting dressed (What was the point…Sherlock had made it very clear in Dans office what exactly it was that they would be doing once they got home). Then in the cab, John had sat as far away from Sherlock as possible, keeping his hands in his lap, face turned towards the window and silent.
Several times Sherlock had gone to reach out to John, just to feel him, to touch him, but had then reigned in the impulsion. If he had started touching John, he doubted he would have been able to stop and he didn’t fancy getting kicked out of the cab and ending up in having to walk home.
Now they were finally in their living room and John was still just standing there, fully clothed, while Sherlock had removed his coat, shoes and socks.
“Loud, raucous, vigorous, mind blowing sex?” John stated and Sherlock wasn't sure why it was posed as a question.
“That is the plan. Why aren’t you divesting yourself of clothing?” Sherlock asked shortly, starting on the buttons of his shirt.
“Sex, Sherlock. You do know what that entails, yes?”
Sherlock shot a frown of exasperation at John before answering what should be very well known to a doctor who had the moniker ‘Three Continents Watson’. “Naked bodies, penises, more than likely one penetrating either orifice of the receiving partner. I’m not fussy which way.”
“Sherlock, how long have we known each other?”
"Six years, plenty of time to get to know each other, if that is your problem, now, strip” he ordered as he dropped his shirt to the floor.
“No, my problem is that during that time have you ever shown an interest in having any sort of relationship with anyone or ever known me to date other men?”
Sherlock was undoing his trousers and trying valiantly not to role his eyes. Of course John was going to fall back on those excuses. Again. Apparently it was time to clear the air of such nonsensical notions, so as he dropped his trousers to the ground, and prepared to remove his pants he apprised, “Just because you never noticed, doesn’t mean that it never happened John. If that was how life worked, it would be very dull indeed, and as for you dating other men, no, but you have certainly looked, plus there was that one time at uni and those few brief dalliances in the army. Now that we have established that I am not as virginal as you believe and you are not as straight as you would like everyone else to believe do you think we could get to the part where we have loud raucous, vigorous, mind blowing sex. Please.”
Sherlock finished unhooking his pants from around his ankles and stood up straight, as naked as John was clothed. Why was John still clothed?
“So, now, just because you finally feel like it, we are just going to jump into bed together?” John was sounding very titchy. He would be a lot less titchy if he removed his clothes.
“Problem?” Sherlock asked, placing one hand on his hip and using the other to indicate that John should get to work removing his own clothes.
“Yes, Sherlock. A big problem” John almost yelled and with an over exaggerated sigh, Sherlock flopped down into his chair and prepared to listen to Johns tirade about some form of social nicety that Sherlock had deleted. He went to cross his leg, but decided that with an erection as prominent as the one he was currently sporting, it was probably better to sit with both feet flat on the floor.
“Fine, lets just say we both strip off and have a quick roll in the sheets. Then what? We go back to normal? Me, pretending I’m through with relationships and you being more than happy with The Work, now that you’ve got your fix?” By now John had worked himself up into a right state and the way he was running his fingers through his hair was not really distracting Sherlock from his previous thoughts of lust and pure infatuation.
“Of course not. You’d move your belongings into my room and we would continue to have quite vigorous sex in a multitude of places in a rather vast variety of different ways until either you grew tired of me or we grew too old to have any further sex in which case we could just regale the more memorable moments to help get us through the final tedious years of our life.”
John opened his mouth to offer some dull thought on the matter and then seemed to stop as some realisation seemed to settle over him.
“Did you just ask me to grow old and retire with you?” He asked, looking curiously at Sherlock and Sherlock looked curiously back at him.
“I thought that was a given, John. After all, you did move back after Mary left and you haven’t dated since then. I just assumed I was presenting a different dimension to the relationship we already had.” True, it was a dimension he didn’t think he could have, but the rest was true. He had honestly thought John was here to stay.
All of Johns agitation and doubt seemed to drop and he tipped his head to the side, looking at Sherlock as if he were trying to comprehend something tricky.
“So, what you’re saying is - ”
“-hmmm -”
“ - we would be in a relationship - “
“-hmmm-“
“-as in a romantic relationship - “
“ - well, I wouldn’t go far as to call it romantic as such, but - “
“- and it’s not just a one night thing to quench some urge - “
“ - it will most definitely be quenching an urge - “
“ - and is more than likely to have a repeat performance in both the near and distant future?”
“Many repeat performances.”
John straightened up and the look of thoughtfulness that was on his face was replaced by something darker and more primal. “Then why the fuck are we still talking?” And with that, he started stripping off his jacket and toeing off his shoes.
“My argument precisely” Sherlock agreed and for the second time that night relished in the sight of John Watson stripping down. It was as John was down to his vest and jeans that Sherlock had a sudden urge for something different.
“Stop” he barked, Just as John was unbuttoning his jeans and the other man looked up, disappointment in his eyes.
“No, not definitely, just, slower. I want you to strip for me.”
Johns brow dipped. “ I was strip…”
“No, John. I mean, strip for me.”
Realisation dawned on Johns face and a smug grin tipped just one corner of his mouth. His hands moved from the button on his jeans and slowly, very slowly, traveled up his abdomen, fingers curving around ribs and as they travelled up over his shoulders, he turned so his back was to Sherlock and they moved back down, crossed over his body, to grip the hem of his vest and then slowly, he pulled the top up and over his head, flinging it back so it landed in Sherlock’s lap, tented by the very interested penis between Sherlock now slightly parted thighs.
Johns hands moved out of sight as his hips gently, yet seductively swayed from left to right and Sherlock could hear the sound of a zipper be lowered and then Johns hands reappeared on his hips, gently shimmying the trousers off of his hips and down his thighs and a deep intake of breath could be heard from Sherlock as he saw that John was indeed still wearing the tight, shiny, snug fitting pants he had worn on stage. With a provocative roll of his hips John turned back around to face Sherlock and Sherlock was well pleased to see that John really was as interested in the proceedings as what he himself was. With just a few short steps, John was in front of him and before Sherlock knew it the other man had straddled his lap and was slowly gyrating his hips and grinding his arse in small circular motions on Sherlocks thighs, rubbing up against his cock with every forwards roll and Sherlock couldn’t help but tip his head back and grab onto Johns hips to pull him in tighter. God, it felt better than he had dared hope.
He startled when he felt something wet and warm on his neck but once he realised it was Johns tongue, he arched his neck back further, tipping his head to the side.
“I do believe you said something about loud and raucous” John murmured against his skin and Sherlock let out a deep, loud moan at the vibrations it sent through his body. His hands on Johns hips tightened and he started thrusting up, just lightly, every time John pushed forwards.
“God, John” he moaned as Johns tongue worked over his neck and across his clavicle, his hips not once stopping. Sherlock bucked hard as Johns hand dipped down and circled around his cock. “John” he cried out, his own hand moving to cup Johns arse, his fingers sliding over the silk that encased it and he felt the muscles bunch under his hand as Johns hand slowly stroked him, thumb circling at the slit of his cock, smearing pre come in a trail down the underside of his erection before forming a ring and sliding back up again.
With clumsy fingers Sherlock scrabbled with the waist band of Johns pants and tugged at them until they were pulled down mid thigh, which unfortunately meant that John had to raise himself from Sherlocks lap but it was all fine for when he seated himself again, Sherlock could feel Johns scrotum at the base of his own cock and then there was Johns penis, pushed up against his own. “God, Sherlock” John panted as he wrapped a hand around both of them and Sherlock could only moan in agreeance as his hips started to thrust in earnest, pushing himself up into the ring of Johns fingers.
Sherlocks other hand returned to Johns arse and cupped a cheek, the tips of his fingers running along the crack and when he felt John push against the sensation he removed his hand and offered two fingers to John. Without further instruction, John sucked the fingers into his mouth making lurid, obscene sounds as he lathered them with saliva, leaving Sherlock with thoughts of what else John could be lathering with saliva.
When he felt his fingers were adequately lubricated he pulled them from Johns mouth and returned his hand to Johns bum and as John resumed the stroking, that he had temporarily stopped as he had fellated Sherlocks fingers, Sherlock traced Johns gluteal cleft down until he found what he was looking for. John grunted as Sherlock teased the opening with his slick finger, pushing back as hard as he was pushing into his own hand and when Sherlock slipped one finger into John a long, low groan slipped past Johns lips and his head tipped forward to lean on Sherlocks Shoulder. “Yes” he gasped and started thrusting harder. The tight grip around Sherlocks finger was just as satisfying as the grip around his cock and after a few thrusts he pushed the second finger in alongside the first. The noise John made, low and guttural, sent sparks down Sherlocks spine and drawn out “Johhhnnnn” was pulled from his lips as his fingers moved in time with his hips. Together they both pushed and pulled at the other, building them up, pulling sounds, low and deep from the man before them, sounds neither of them knew the other could make. Lips found skin, pulling bruises to the surface, sometimes with the aid of teeth, tasting the sweat on skin and before long the rhythm they had set up started to become erratic and uncoordinated.
It was Sherlock who came first, and almighty “JOHN” leaving his mouth as he spilled, warm and thick, over Johns hand, hips stuttering as he added to the mess. Once the daze brought on from orgasm had cleared it was to find John, stroking his own cock and riding Sherlocks fingers, panting and pleading for “moremoremore.” Sherlock, not being one to be outdone in the bedroom (or anywhere, really) pulled Johns hand away and replaced it with his own, finding a rhythm that seemed to satisfy John as he continued to push down on Sherlocks fingers, still buried in his arse. As Johns pleas turned from “moremoremore” to “yesyesyes” Sherlock crooked his fingers one way, and then the another until he felt the little nodule he was looking for. As his fingers swiped over Johns prostate, Johns back arched, pulling his head away from where it had been resting on Sherlocks shoulder, to tip back, exposing his throat and Sherlock took that as an opportunity to latch on, sucking another mark into Johns flesh as John came, hard, semen covering Sherlocks hand and splattering on his stomach.
“Fuuuuuck…Sherlock” John groaned as he came and came, eventually finishing by letting his head thud back onto Sherlocks shoulder as small shivers wracked his body while he came down from his own orgasm.
For a few moments neither of them moved or made a sound, except for the heavy breathing which slowly turned into smoother, gentler breaths.
“You have glitter on your cock” John said, somewhat flatly and then he started giggling. “Oh, my god, this is ridiculous” he chuckled and Sherlock smiled against his neck as he pulled him in closer. Yes, it was ridiculous, but it was ridiculous with John, so it was all fine.
When John finished giggling at Sherlocks apparently glitter coated cock he sat up and looked to Sherlock. Sherlock watched as Johns eyes darted over his face, finally settling on his lips. At the same time, the two of them moved towards each other and for the first time, their lips met. It was soft and slow, and didn’t have nearly as much tongue as Sherlock thought their first kiss would have but he found he didn’t mind so much. There would be time for filthy kisses later.
“We should get cleaned up and go to bed” John suggested, pulling away all too soon for Sherlocks liking. “And these pants are digging into my thighs.” He backed the statement up by giving a little shuffle on Sherlocks lap, trying to bring his legs closer together.
Reluctantly, Sherlock let go of John and the other man slid, somehow gracefully, off of Sherlocks lap, pulling the black silk up over the mess they had made. Silently, the two of them made their way to the bathroom.
“I don’t suppose Dan would have footage of the performance” Sherlock asked as John carefully wiped congealing semen off of Sherlocks stomach and hands.
“I will personally provide you with a fun and interesting murder if he has” John replied, a hint of a smile creeping across his mouth.
“Well, in that case” Sherlock said, taking the cloth from John and using it to wipe any mess off of Johns stomach. “I demand a repeat performance.”
“Do you now?” John said, one eyebrow cocking as he looked up at Sherlock.
“Hmmm. And maybe, with the shirt that you had on tonight…Definitely with the shirt you had on tonight. I could get my tailor to make a replica if the club isn’t willing to give it up, oh, John, I could get my tailor to make more, with different colours. I’m thinking gunmetal grey, with a slight sheen, or maybe a royal red. That would look quite fetching. Speaking of red, maybe red pants, just like these ones, or…John, how do you feel about g-strings?…I know someone who makes customised lingerie for men, nothing lacy or frilly, but…revealing and very tight….have you ever used a pole to dance…we could have one put in the room….”
“Sherlock!” John placed one hand on his chest and used the other to grip his chin, directing Sherlocks gaze onto him. “Stop” he laughed. “Just, slow down, Jesus. No, we are not having a pole put in the room.”
Sherlock felt the pout take over his mouth and another huff of laughter left Johns lips. “Lets just, go to bed, yeah and we will see what happens tomorrow, okay?”
Sherlock exhaled a small sigh out through his nose and gave a short nod, which wasn’t easy as his face was still in Johns grasp. “Fine” he huffed and John pulled his face down to place a small kiss on his lips.
“I don’t know about you, but I am knackered” he said and stepped around Sherlock towards the bedroom. Sherlock grabbed onto Johns hand and let himself be led into the bedroom where John gave him a soft shove towards the bed and then, stripping out of the black pants, climbed under the covers as naturally as if he had always been sleeping in Sherlocks bed. Sherlock slid in next to him and made quick work of positioning John so he was in a position for Sherlock to essentially use him as a very comfortable pillow.
“I should warn you, I run hot in my sleep” John said as Sherlock made himself comfortable, half draped over John.
“'t’s fine” Sherlock murmured, finding the darkness of the room and the warmth of John under the duvet with him quite the soporific.
“You won’t think so when you wake with your face on a sweaty chest” John yawned, and settled an arm loosely around Sherlocks waist.
Sherlock's mouth curved into a small grin. “Oh, I don’t think that will be too much of a hardship.”