MYCROFT: Most people blunder around this city and all they see is streets and shops and cars. When you walk with Sherlock Holmes you see the battlefield. You’ve seen it already haven’t you?
JOHN: What’s wrong with my hand?
MYCROFT: You have an intermittent tremor in your left hand. Your therapist thinks it’s post-traumatic stress disorder. She thinks you’re haunted by memories of your military service.
JOHN: Who the hell are you? And how do you know that?
MYCROFT: Fire her. She’s got it the wrong way around. You’re under stress right now and your hand is perfectly steady. You’re not haunted by the war, Dr. Watson. You miss it. Welcome back.
John?
GHL
-mumbles- mmwhat? sleepy…zzz
-pets his adorable John kitten- I just want to cuddle you.
-purrs and nuzzles against his hand before curling up in his arms- I’d say the feeling’s mutual. -smiles, wrapping his arms around him, holding him close-
An evening with my Jawn~ (John)
Sherlock felt that he would go mad before they finished, John’s finger causing him to bite his lip and inch his hips toward him, head turning to whine against the pillow. He can feel his muscles tensing and pulling taught, his body not able to take much more of John Watson’s expertise. He wants to say so many things to him, tell him how good this feels, that he wants him, needs him, loves him. Holmes has never felt this emotion before and it’s quite clear that it could never be reciprocated for anyone other than his John. His hips cannot help but buck as John continues the onslaught with his mouth upon Sherlock’s cock. He can’t think straight, can hardly think at all. He simply knows that his body is experiencing intense pleasure that numbs the slight pain from the penetration John provides. Though he doesn’t care how much it would hurt, he just wants John inside him, rutting against him, loving him, and becoming one with him in every sense of the phrase.
It isn’t long before he’s mewling with need, his toes curling as he tries to fight off the heat that burns within him, his orgasm inevitable. John withdraws his finger, stroking Sherlock, pumping his shaft only to allow his lips to come over him once more. “Dear..God!” he sounds in a chocked cry. “J-John!” he tries again, but still nothing. “Can’t…I can’t-!” And he feels that’s good enough because he can’t say anymore. His hands squeeze the headboard above him, back arching as he sobs in pleasure, spilling quick and heavily.
John is evil. He’s convinced, because he keep going, moving lower to tease his entrance and fuck if tears aren’t rolling down his cheeks from the intensity of the pleasure. He cries out when John pushes inside, tongue warm and, hell, he’s going to release again soon if John doesn’t cut it out and give him a breather. “It’s so damn good, John.” he answers as if reading his mind. “One down, how many to go until we’re through?” he chuckles, his laughter cut short by a moan falling from his lips. He feels the first finger again, hitting his prostate, eliciting a whimper before a second is added, receiving a squirm until he’s moaning again. “Mmm, John, yes…want you though. Please…” he looks down at him and again, “please!”
John could still taste Sherlock’s cum in his mouth, the detective’s first orgasm having nearly pushed the ex soldier over the edge, an intense wave of pleasure consuming him as he moaned, wantonly, around his partner’s length. Swallowing every last drop as he felt Sherlock’s cock, throb and pulse against his lips and tongue, he lovingly licked him clean, resisting strongly, the urge to drop his hand to his own cock, rolling his hips against the mattress instead as he continued on, fully intent on carrying him through to many more climaxes to come.
He smirked as he was asked that question now, his fingers applying a touch more pressure to his partner’s g-spot, swirling and stroking against it as his eyes made contact with his, the detective’s pleas and whimpers, leaving him unable to hold back for much longer, as all he wants now is to be inside him, to finally be one with his lover. “Many, many more” he breathes in response, getting to his knees now before pulling Sherlock closer, resting the backs of his thighs against the front of his own as he reaches for some lube, pouring a small amount onto the palm of his hand, letting it warm for a few seconds before stroking it smoothly up and down the full length of his cock.
He’s never felt anything quite like this before~ the love he feels for Sherlock mixing with the need, the desire, the long wait for this moment and all the promise of their future together, causing this to mean everything to him. His best friend, his love, his Sherlock~ everything that’s good and beautiful, right and true about his life.
Positioning the head of his cock, gently against his entrance, he comes down over him now, kissing him softly as he rolls his hips, stroking the head of his cock back and forth before letting his hips push slowly forwards, easing himself inside. And all the while, he stays forever aware of his partner’s reactions, his breathing, the sounds he makes, every contraction and flexion of his muscles, ready to stop if needed, though he knows that’s not going to happen, both of them needing this far too much as he moans, gasping softly at how tight Sherlock feels. Easing his hips back, just a touch, he trembles against him, moaning again as he sinks further inside, his tongue invading the other’s mouth now, kissing him deeply, tasting him as the intensity and erotisism of the moment takes him over completely, fingers sinking into Sherlock’s hair as he allows him to grow accustomed to the feeling before beginning to gently rock his hips, grinding against his prostrate.
-Text- Hope you enjoyed our little game, Johnny boy. We always have such fun, don't we? Give my regards to Sherlock. Tell him I'll be seeing him again soon -JM
An evening with my Jawn~ (John)
Sherlock could tell that calling John by his military rank was something that aroused him, at least that’s what he inferred from the delicious shiver he produced. It could also have something to do with the fact that it had been Sherlock who said it. Thoughts were consumed by John and although he was completely focused on only them, he was still taking careful note of everything John did. He knew his needs were great, but so was his self control, it would only make sense that he was taking this slow for Holmes, and that only made him more attractive, that he could be so sensitive to his feelings.
The detective looked up an made eye contact with his lover, a warm tingle shooting through his body, his muscles tensing and quivering from just a look. He was already much more deeply invested in this relationship than he could comprehend. And for once, Sherlock Holmes was not afraid of the unknown, he could deal because he knew whatever road this led him down, John would be at his side. As he felt John’s smooth skin glide along his own, his eye fluttered shut and this was easily the greatest high he could ever achieve. He felt his eyes rolling back and his body arching, giving into pure need. As he felt John’s experienced mouth working against his neck, using teeth and tongue, he felt his temperature rising, surely he had begun to perspire from the heated love bites and sucking on his skin. He could feel the nerves beneath the skin throbbing, and it left him wanting to beg for more, but he didn’t need to because he knew John and John knew him better than he knew himself. The only man to ever read Sherlock like an open book.
Sherlock moaned when he felt John’s fingers at his lips, pushing past into his mouth. His tongue lapped around them, stroking expertly and he hollowed his mouth, cheekbones becoming even more accentuated. He looked at him now through dazed sapphire pools sucking and properly lubricating his fingers because he knew what was to come next and he wanted that. He wanted to share this with John, for John to be his only. Sherlock had never wanted anyone else and he never would, John was all he needed ever.
His back arched as he felt John’s fingers stroke over his entrance, muscles tensing and providing a visible outline to where each ended and began. Then, before his mind could comprehend it, John was stroking his cock and then his tongue was present and Sherlock could have swore if he hadn’t put so much effort just there, then he surely would have released. He was so incredibly turned on, groaning as John took him in his mouth, that he didn’t feel displeasure from the penetration. Still because of the immense amount of ecstasy, his fingers grasped the sheets of John’s bed tugging while he squirmed.
John couldn’t have felt a greater pleasure than knowing that he was giving such ecstasy to his lover~ to Sherlock, his finger sinking gently inside him, sliding deep, curling slightly in a beckoning motion as he allowed a light pressure to build against his partner’s prostrate, his mouth continuing to work around the head of his cock, warm and wet and luxurious. He moaned, eyes closing as an intense burst of pleasure washed it’s way through his body, every muscle tightening, lips included, his tongue pressing firmly against the underside of Sherlock’s shaft as he pulled his head back, almost releasing him before sinking down again, taking him all the way to the back of his throat. He was so incredibly turned on, his body trembling, breathing ragged and coming in short hitching gasps each and every time he released his lover from his mouth, though his tongue never ceased movement~ licking, tasting, teasing~ lips following again soon after, sucking and kissing as his finger continued to stroke sensually against that sensitised spot deep within.
Opening his eyes again, he directed his gaze upward to watch the other, his brow creasing, pleasure so intense, pulse after pulse of ecstasy taking his breath away, causing his stomach muscles to tense and quiver as he noticed how Sherlock grasped at the sheets of his bed. His body writhed so deliciously beneath him, muscles outlined and taut, making him look so much more beautiful than John had ever seen him before. Pulling his head back, he released him with a soft, wet sounding pop, withdrawing his finger as he wrapped his hand around his partner’s shaft, the lubrication left over from his mouth, allowing him to stroke easily up and down, squeezing and pumping as he sank his head down again, this time moving lower, licking over Sherlock’s entrance, tracing it’s outline, teasing him with the warmth of his tongue before sinking it gently inside him as his thumb grazed over his slit. He wanted to ask him how that felt as he pushed his mouth closer, though obviously he couldn’t, a moan falling from his lips instead as his free hand stroked and curled around Sherlock’s thigh, tugging him a little closer still before lifting his leg that bit higher, opening him up a little more.
He’d never felt such bliss, such tranquillity in the midst of such a heated passion, such perfection and a knowing that they had as much time together now as they needed, as much time as they wanted, no interruptions, no breaks, no hesitations~ no need to rush and an entire universe of heated bliss to discover, explore and share together. Belonging. Love. Friendship. Trust. Those things were the very breath of life itself. Of a happy life.
He could feel his lover contracting around his tongue~ contracting and relaxing, though gradually opening up more as he continued with his efforts, his head pulling back again eventually, tongue moving it’s attentions back to the head of his cock, licking in wet circles around it as he watched him, one digit slipping back inside, pistoning gently in and out before he added a second, curling and stroking against his prostrate, tasting precum as a smirk tugged lightly at his lips. “Good?” he whispered, giving him a gentle suck.
