Let's have dinner.

John had no idea how many bruises he had sucked on Sherlock's neck that night, he couldn't stop, he couldn't have enough of the taste of his skin, his lips were possessive, taking in all they could.

At the same time his hips never stopped, he savored each moan he could draw from Sherlock and he was soon lost in his own pleasure.
It became impossible to concentrate on his skin any more then, his head tilting up to gather oxygen as the thrusts became more violent, the sound of their skin slapping together reverberating in the room.

"Sherlock," he moaned, one hand reaching around his friend, grabbing his arousal and pumping on it desperately.

Sherlock shivered involuntarily as John plastered his neck with rough kisses and bites, wondering if they'd leave marks or bruises and not caring if they did. He was starting to think he'd quite like it, then everyone would know exactly what they'd been up to. He smirked to himself at the idea.

John's thrusts were powerful and deep, Sherlock had never really considered it before but he reasoned his friend was still fit from his army days, physically strong, toned, and his movement's were sending Sherlock's mind into meltdown.

His face was still pressed into the pillow so he shifted his position slightly, letting go of the bed sheets and hoisting himself up onto his elbows, breathing heavily, arching his back up towards John.

"It's good John," he gasped, trying to twist his head round to look at him. "Really...good...I...ohhh God..."

Fingers grasped his erection and Sherlock was suddenly lost for words, whatever he was planning to say now replaced by a loud inarticulate groan as he madly tried to buck his hips into John's hand, eager for an increase in pleasure.

He had meant to chuckle, but only a groan went past his lips as he heard Sherlock lose his well trained coherency. He liked that, he wanted that, he wanted Sherlock to moan and call his name.

"Yes, Sherlock yes," he moaned in time with his thrusts, pushing his cock deep into him while his hand pumped fast on Sherlock's erection.

At some point he started to lose track of himself, his hips going crazy and his orgasm only a breath away.
"Sherlock, come on, I need you to come," he breathed out, his eyes rolling back as another wave of pleasure threatened to push him over the edge.

Sherlock could feel John pushing deeper and deeper, every single thrust rubbing his prostate delightfully, his hand pumping him urgently, the pleasure was intense, too much to bare.

When John asked him to come he didn't need any further invitation, he already felt like his whole body might explode into a thousand pieces any second.

No longer able to say or do anything except utter inexplicable groans and inhuman sounding noises, Sherlock's mind had completely shut down as the climax rushed over him like a tidal wave.

With one final thrust of his hips to try and push himself into John's hand he finally released himself with a loud cry of ecstacy, his lips just managing to form John's name as he filled his friend's hand.

Thick hot seed in his hand and the warm feeling of muscles clenching around his cock were too much to bear for John, and there was only a loud moan guiding him to his own mindblowing orgasm.

He stretched one last time, thrusting deep into Sherlock as he came, a groan on his lips when he emptied himself completely.

"Jesus," he whimpered, panting as he pulled out of Sherlock, taking off the condom and throwing it carelessly into the bin.

Sherlock could only gaze up at John through half closed heavy eyelids as his flatmate rode out his own orgasm, the thrusts becoming slightly less urgent and desperate.

He could feel his own muscles still twitching around John's spent arousal as he wrappped his arms round the doctor, gasping for breath in the aftermath of their climax.

Sherlock moaned again as John pulled out, almost wishing he could stay inside him forever it felt so good. He felt complete when John was inside them, their bodies joined, connected, it was so natural and wonderful he wondered why it had taken them this long to realise their feelings for each other, or at least to admit to them.

"That was rather incredible John," Sherlock grinned, rolling over onto his side to face his new lover. "I hope...um...I hope you don't mind doing it again sometime."

John wrapped one arm loosely around Sherlock's body as he turned towards him, fingers running down his spine and stopping at his buttocks. "I would like that, yes," he replied with a grin, as he started massaging the tender flesh.

"Was it alright? I haven't hurt you too much, have I?" he asked, looking at him worriedly, his eyes filled with bliss, but also concern, he always seemed to put Sherlock's feelings before anything else, how had he managed to hide his feelings till now, he was not sure.

Sherlock sighed happily as John's fingers gently carressed him, his eyes fluttered closed slightly.

"No, I'm not hurt," he smiled, gingerly running his hand down his spine towards his bum, feeling around down there. It was a little tender he had to admit, but he didn't care. "I liked it."

He wondered then, how much experience John had had in the area. He did seem to be rather bloody good at it. "Have you ever...done it with a man before?" Sherlock asked with a small frown, genuinely interested.

John grinned when Sherlock confirmed he had enjoyed it, he was glad, he had tried his best to make it as pleasurable as possible for his flatmate. "You felt so good, Sherlock," he whispered against his skin. "I can't wait to be able to do it again..."

"Eh, mm, well," he stammered once he was asked about his experience, "I was quite, er, active when I was in uni," he admitted, pulling a bit away from him. "It was a long time ago though, I really... didn't think I was ever going to be attracted to another man again..."


(I reckon we can finish this soonish? What do you think? Or you had other ideas for it?)

((Yeah, no big plans or plotlines for this one so happy to finish it off. Let's just have them go to sleep or something...))


"That makes sense," Sherlock smirked when he heard about John's previous experience. "You'll um...you'll have to err...teach me...how to do it right." He bit his bottom lip, hoping he hadn't been a disappointment.

He rolled over onto his side and studied John's face, taking in every feature with his keen eye.

"I think, as first time's go, that was quite a success," Sherlock contemplated with a grin.

John looked at Sherlock, surprised by the words, he couldn't believe the man doubted what they had just shared.
"You were perfect already, Sherlock," he whispered, moving closer so he could slide against his side, resting his head on his arm, his hand on Sherlock's chest.

"It was amazing, wonderful," he exclaimed with a chuckle, then kissing his skin and looking at him a bit sheepishly. "I liked every second of it..."

[okie]

"Thank you," Sherlock smiled, feeling genuinely happy, although one part of him still wondered whether John was just saying that to be nice to him.

"I'm still learning though John," he mumbled, pulling the doctor into his arms with a sigh. "I can get a lot better."

Sherlock kissed the top of John's head and suddenly a yawn overtook him, and he realised he was quite exhausted.

John laughed a bit at Sherlock's words, he wasn't sure he could imagine anything more pleasurable.
"What can I say, I am curious to see what can be better than this," he commented, yawning as well when he realized Sherlock had done so.

"Mm, do you want to go back to your room? It's quite past our usual bedtime," he asked, realizing it was quite late. He looked at the bed, Sherlock pale and naked on the blue covers, and he couldn't help but think that he wished him to stay. "Unless... mm... you would like to stay and sleep here?" he suggested, blushing slightly.

Sherlock was so happy and relaxed in John's bed he didn't particulaly want to move, and he felt a strange burning in his chest when John suggested he should go to his own room. The idea of sleeping in his cold lonely bed wasn't appealing right now, not after what they'd just shared together.

He sighed, and didn"t make a move right away. Sherlock was secretly delighted when John asked him to stay. He couldn't think of anything he'd like better in that moment then to snuggle up next to his friend all night long, feeling the warmth of his body protecting him, comforting him.

"That would be um...good," he muttered, trying to sound as casual as possible. So instead of getting up he grabbed the covers and dived underneath them with a childish grin, quite excited at the prospect of a night in John's room.

John couldn't help but smile happily when Sherlock decided to stay, especially when the detective seemed to be especially pleased by the idea of staying in his bed. It was romantic in a way, and he couldn't help but think that maybe Sherlock really did care.

"Okay, then," he muttered, sliding into the covers as well and snuggling very close to his flatmate's naked body. "Would you... mm... sleep... like... cuddled up?" he found himself asking, stammering a bit in embarrassment, he couldn't believe he was asking this to Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock let out a small moan as he felt John's naked body cuddling up next to him. He instinctively wrapped his arm over his friend and dangled one of his legs over one of John's, dragging him in closer.

"I'd um...like to sleep like this..." he mumbled quietly. "Feels...nice..."

He smiled happily and kissed John's cheek.

John let his body relax against Sherlock, enjoying a bliss he hadn't tasted in years, if ever. "Good," he commented, nuzzling his shoulder and then kissing it tenderly. "I could get used to this," he whispered, wishing they really could repeat this.

He yawned not much later, feeling the arms of sleep getting closer. His muscles were sore from the physical extension and he had to admit that emotionally as well, it had been a very long day. Rest was quite welcome.

Sherlock felt John's warm body up against his, and his heartbeat quickened.

He kissed the top of his friend's head, smelling his hair slightly. "Maybe we could do this again tomorrow," he whispered as his eyes fluttered closed.

Sherlock was tired, more so than he'd imagined, and he yawned sleepily as he heard John yawning, felt his body relax. Pretty soon he was fast asleep, snoring lightly.



((The End?))