Come back to me (Sherlock Holmess/John Watson MD)

"Of course I freak out over it, you leave our apartment as if there was a gang fight!" he protested, even though it was the opposite of what he had said before, he was too annoyed to really make sense.

His rationality didn't really gain anything when Sherlock stepped closer, his words and tone of voice were a promise of things John's body was craving for and for a moment he couldn't help but imagine himself bending Sherlock on his desk and fucking him blind, punishing him for the pain he had caused him.
He knew though that if he gave in to that now, he would be left with even more longing, he would be even more hurt.

"This is very unfair of you, Sherlock," he whispered, swallowing hard, his eyes were calling him close and it was hard to resist.

Sherlock kept his eyes focussed on John's. He didn't let go of them for just a second. His fingers moved to grip around John's wrist. "What's unfair?" He whispered deep. He could hear John swallow at his actions and he couldn't help but smile slightly.

"I need something to keep my mind sane, John. please." He pleaded. He didn't exactly knew what John was thinking when he spoke those words though. But he didn't care how this situation would turn out, as long as he was able to take his mind of this boredom.

His eyes fluttered and his lips pouted a little bit in an attempt to convince John to do anything. Standing so close to John did make his heart beat faster though. Something he hadn't experienced with anyone ever before.

John's eyes moved on the other's face, and a long shiver wrapped along his spine as he felt the other's long pale fingers around his wrist.
God, it was unfair, it was torture, the worst but most delicious torture.

"You. Doing this," he whispered, even though his body wasn't responding to his thoughts, it was stepping closer instead, until he was a few centimeters from the other's lips as he looked up.

"You are just using me..." he breathed out, oh so close he thought he could melt right there, melt or lose control completely.

Sherlock's grip became more tight as John stepped closer. He could feel the the other's breath floating over the lower part of his face and it wasn't helping the situation much either. The certain tension between both of them was overwhelming Sherlock and for a moment he felt the same as when he saw John again after all those years.

"I'm not doing anything." He said. "I'm just asking you for a cure to my boredom." His eyebrow raised in the air. Then he lowered his face to John's ear. "You're a doctor, right?" He purred into it. "Then heal me."

What started as John's words of protest became a low growl when Sherlock spoke, and the doctor knew he couldn't possibly say no. Sherlock was all he wanted, all he cared for, and it this moment he was too aroused to think up any reason why this was not supposed to happen.

"Damn you," he snapped, his free hand moving up to tangle with the other's hair, forcibly pulling him down and crashing their lips together.
He was angry at first, biting on his lower lip, sucking on it, but then it was all just passion, all those feelings he had inside, all those things he could not control, they radiated from him and enveloped Sherlock as he pushed him back until they hit his desk.

Sherlock managed to grin just before their lips became attached. He moaned at the roughness John was handling, loving it. Though as the passing came setting in his own arms wrapped around John to keep him close.

Sherlock moved along with John until he hit the desk. He yelped slightly before moving his kisses to John neck. "I know I've been bad." He whispered close to his ear. "Make me beg for forgiveness, John."

John shivered at the kisses on his neck, his body pressing instinctively into the touch and into the other's warmth. It felt like he had been without water for long and finally he was given all he needed. Sherlock was what he needed.
And he couldn't wait.
He couldn't stop.
Terrified it would just end up in a mirage.

He growled again at the words, his fingers quickly undoing the other trousers, if punishment was what Sherlock was looking for, John was going to give it to him.

He pushed him away roughly once he had undone his zip and then put his hands on him again, turning him around and bending him on the desk.

He pressed his hand on the other's back, keeping him down as his free one pushed down the other's trousers and pants.
He ran his hand over the other's butt cheek, so pale and tight, and then squeezed one fondly.

"Is this what you want?" he hissed, leaning on the other's body, his arousal bulging his trousers and pressing against the other's butt. "I will fuck you here where anyone can come in and see me giving it to you," he added, his voice low with lust.

Sherlock was more then willing to let John take control in this. He started breathing heavily as John undid his trousers. Sherlock had hoped for a bit more friction then just getting turned around and pinned down to the desk.

John's hand on his back keeping him down like that however, was something Sherlock could only dream of. He whimpered helplessly as John's hand touched his butt.

Sherlock bit down his lower lip as John's body came lying over him. He could feel the other's erection poke through his trousers and Sherlock couldn't help but moan in anticipation.

"Yes. John. I want this. Please." He said pleading. "I don't care if anyone walks in." His rational thinking had been shut down moments ago and all Sherlock wanted and needed now was to feel John inside him.

He had never been more aroused then that very moment right there.

John's fingers buried themselves in Sherlock's hair, pulling back his head as he nibbled at his ear. "Try to keep it down," he ordered, before running his teeth over the skin and letting go of him.

He stood a bit straighter and reached out his hand, taking a bottle of lotion someone had left there and squeezing a bit on his fingers. The thought that this belonged to Hanna crossed his mind for a second, but he decided not to care as his fingers pushed in between Sherlock's butt-cheeks and probed at his entrance.

In a few minutes he was preparing the other man with one, two and then three fingers, spreading him as wide as he could.

"Yes, sir." Sherlock replied to John's order to keep quiet. It would probably take a lot of effort though knowing how aroused he was. But he had to try, he didn't really want anyone to walk in because of weird noises after all.

He breathed more heavy when John's fingers entered him. He pushed his own hips back against his friend's hand. Considering the state of mind John had got him in, this was hardly enough to satisfy his needs.

"John, ready." He groaned, basically begging for more.

John couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his throat when Sherlock urged him on, "Spoiled brat," he commented and pushed his fingers farther into the other's body.

"You think I'd just follow any of your orders blindly?" he added, and continued just with his fingers, pushing against his prostate repeatedly.
He wanted to torture him, he wanted to punish him for the hurt he had caused him, for not being with him and still asking him this.

"Ask nicely, and maybe I will fuck you..." he said finally, massaging the other's butt-cheek teasingly.

Sherlock could barely take all this teasing. His own cock was pulsing, throbbing painfully against the desk. It wouldn't surprise him as it had already started to leak from all that John was doing to him.

"John." Sherlock moaned, deeper and with more lust then he'd ever said the other's name before. His own hips desperately rocking back against those fingers. Sparks of pleasure running up his spine as John once more stroked his prostate. "John please." He whimpered.

"Please, would you fuck me again? Please?" He groaned. His own hand automatically shot down to his own erection. He couldn't stop himself, it was aching and he needed to feel something more.

"Please." He whimpered once more.

John loved the way Sherlock was moaning his name, how he was pleading, it made him want to go on and on forever, just wanting to feel the detective need him.
It was a small satisfaction for his broken heart.

"Don't!" he warned him when he saw the other's hand move towards his erection. "Don't defy me, Sherlock," he said with a smirk and he took his fingers out. He moved to slap the detective hand away and looked at him, his ass sticking out a bit, waiting for him, and his hands moved to his trousers, opening then and pushing the fabric of his pants down a bit just enough to take himself out.

He grabbed Sherlock's hips, and ran his erection along the crack of his butt, teasingly, and he waited for Sherlock to plead again before he inserted the tip inside, closing his eyes.
He took in a shaky breath and started thrusting slowly, taking in more and more, penetrating him more and more, until he was buried deep into Sherlock's ass.

Sherlock growled desperately when he heard John forbidding him to touch his own erection. He growled even more when his hand actually got slapped away. Instead his hands gripped around the edged of John's desk, holding on to them trying to ignore the needs of his own body.

As he felt John teasing him even more by running his cock along his ass he just wanted to scream out in need. Scream John's name, begging to enter him. But he couldn't, John said he had to be quiet, so he bit his lip hard to just keep it a moan.

"please John fuck me." he whimpered once more, just hoping John would give in to his pleading this time. As Sherlock felt a thick warmth filling him up, he sighed happily. His hips were already meeting John's thrusts halfway.

"oh god yes, John, so good." he moaned silently.

John looked up, pleasure shaking him when he felt the other's body give in to him, he was buried into the other's ass and it was all he wanted at the moment. To claim and own Sherlock, even if just for a few minutes.

Frustration mixed with pleasure then and he couldn't stop himself, he leaned over the other's back, pushing in as much as possible and biting the back of his neck to relieve a bit of the tension.
Then he started thrusting, his hips moving fast, steady, deep.

Sherlock had to bit down his own lip once more as he felt John's teeth burying in his neck. He could feel a string of pleasure shooting down his spine and for some reason it was enough to trigger his orgasm.

John was going hard and deep, and Sherlock started to tense up. "John I.." He groaned, sweat forming on his head and back. He couldn't believe his was able to have an orgasm without anyone even touching him there. He tried to fight it off, not willing to end this just yet, but there was little he could do.

Sherlock groaned loud, louder then he should have. It was a groan filled with sexual frustration, lust and every other thing he had just felt. His hips twitched and shook, slapping himself more against John's desk. Then he couldn't hold it anymore and released himself, all over the floor and front part of the desk.

Sherlock's muscles clenching around him came as a surprise, he didn't expect it to happen this soon and his eyes widened for a second.
"Jesus," he exclaimed, picking up his pace even more, trying to take advantage of how tight the other's ass felt in that second.

Sherlock was coming and John felt himself come apart, he kept going, pounding into him for his own pleasure, needy of release. "Just a bit more, Sherlock," he whispered, grabbing his hips, thrusting deep into him until his orgasm washed over him, filling his chest with pleasure.

Sherlock's knees had gone weak and he had a hard time keeping himself up against John's desk. He could feel the other pounding in and out, almost animalistic. Those thrust were still striking him with pleasure and everything was becoming over-sensitive.

"John." He moaned again, starting to feel the other's thrusts had became more unsteady then before. Sherlock could tell John was about to climax. He needed his friend to come, now, so he tensed up his muscled, tightening up around John, hoping it would add up to the pleasure John was feeling.

Sparks of pleasure danced in his vision when he felt Sherlock's muscles tighten around him again, his breathing becoming even more ragged and he came hard, slowly coming to a stop.

He held himself on the desk at Sherlock's sides, breathing in and out, regaining a bit of his energy, trying to level his head with what had just happened.

He pulled away and groaned, dread filling his chest so quickly it hurt.
He should have never done this.
He knew it was going to haunt him even more.

"Just clean yourself up and go, Sherlock, I trust you aren't bored any more and I am working," he said, tucking himself in, he had no idea just how cold he sounded, too busy thinking about his heart, about his job, about everything that he had put on the line by doing this.

Sherlock couldn't help but smile slightly as he felt John having his orgasm. He could have never thought he was able to experience things like this the way he had experienced them a moment ago. He wanted to kiss John, to hug him, to tell him how amazing he was but he was perplex as he heard the other's ice cold words.

"W-what?" He asked confused, not believing his friend could distant his feelings from something like this while he couldn't. He had definitely felt some strong feelings towards John. His hand moved to grab a few tissues and he started to clean up and pulling his pants and trousers back up.

His eyes met John's in a confused look. Sherlock cleared his throat. "I eh" .. "I guess I'll be going then." He said, rather disappointed.

Sherlock's confused gaze when he looked up at him made John frown, had he said something wrong? He had been sure he had just spoken what Sherlock wanted as well. They were not a couple and this was just sex.

"Isn't that what you wanted?" He muttered, trying to keep his voice steady. He needed to be alone, he could feel himself becoming emotional already.

What had he done?
Fucking the man he loved on his work desk! He was never going to be able to think about anything else while working.

"This was a mistake," he whispered, looking at the mess on the table.

"A mistake?" Sherlock exclaimed, his hand already on the doorknob. "John, this was the best kind of sex I ever had." He couldn't help but smiling satisfying as he saw the mess still left on John's desk. Then he looked at John, reading him completely.

"John, what is your problem?" He asked. This odd behaviour has played long enough now, Sherlock decided. He needed to know what John was expecting from him, whether he felt the same Sherlock felt when they had sex.

John scoffed when Sherlock said it had been the best sex he had ever had, it felt so silly at the moment, especially compared to when they did it the first time. Sherlock liked to be dominated apparently, quite an unexpected thing. The possibility that it was because of feelings didn't even cross his mind, Sherlock had already shared what he really thought about the matter.

"What my problem is?" he snapped, he couldn't believe Sherlock's guts saying this. "What is your problem? Using your best friend for sex?" he muttered accusingly. "I am not your bloody toy, I have feelings! You know I can't resist you and you just used it against me!"

Sherlock started laughing out loud. He always thought it was rather cute when John got all worked up over these kind of things. But then his laughter slowly faded. John had feelings? Feelings he had as well? However it seemed like Sherlock only managed to actually feel those things when his mind got shut down by sex.

"I don't use you, John." He frowned. "I feel things for you." He nodded slightly, his eyes for some reason fixed on his own mess. "I didn't think I did, I thought I was caught up in the moment when we first had sex. But now I just felt it all over again." He explained, his eyes now looking up to meet John's.

John's hands balled into fists when Sherlock laughed, he was ready to punch him, anger and hurt pulsing in his veins. How dare he laughed at him?
His thoughts got distracted by Sherlock's words though, he felt something?
No, it was impossible, it didn't make any sense, this had been just sex, John had hardly been gentle!

"What kind of things?" he asked before he could keep himself. "Things, Sherlock, could be anything," he protested, and rubbed his frown.