Back from the Dead (Sherlock)

Sherlock moved his hand down John's back and underneath his thigh to between his own legs, feeling around blindly, his fingers managing to find John's erection. He wanted to actually physically feel the moment when he was completely buried inside him.

The pain was still considerable but Sherlock had read all about this when he'd been doing his research on the internet. He knew it would subside eventually and turn into something more delightful.

For now he closed his eyes and held tightly onto John with his other hand, gasping as he felt his boyfriend finally disappear inside him.

"Amazing," he whispered, then brought both hands back up to cup John's face, smiling at him warmly, dragging him down for a tender kiss as he began to push slowly in and out. "Hmm, keep going..."

John couldn't help but admire Sherlock in that moment, he looked so beautiful, and his voice was lulling him into a sense of security, relaxing him.
"You feel wonderful, Sherlock," he whispered against his lips, the kiss making new chills run up his spine.

"Yes," he agreed, grabbing his hips with one hand before he started to pull back more and push back in, a rhythm of thrusts that quickly went to his head.
"Jesus," he exclaimed, needy for more, changing the sequence, the direction, experimenting and arching his back in the feeling of it.

Sherlock held onto John tightly, each thrust from the soldier's powerful hips slowly turning the pain into pleasure. He felt himself relaxing, opening up to receive John deep inside him, and then moaned in pure ecstacy when the tip of the other man's length brushed teasingly against his prostate.

Sherlock arched his back up off the bed, lifting his hips to meet each thrust, a smile beginning to creep across his lips as his eyelids grew heavy, glazed over in heaven at the increasingly intense sensations.

"John," he whispered, lifting up his legs to give him even better access. "This is...incredible..."

John reacted to Sherlock's movements instinctively, when his legs moved up, he took one up over his shoulder and pushed back in, loving the way he seemed to go even deeper and he seemed to slot against him.

"Jesus Christ, Sherlock, you feel so good," he repeated, unable to find anything else to say, his thoughts short-circuiting. "I need to- uh," he exclaimed, his hips going faster, his thrusts hard and violent, making the bed creak under them.

Sherlock made a small gasp of delight as John seemed to slip even deeper inside him. He didn't think it was possible to feel any better but suddenly he did.

"You feel amazing too," he moaned, arching his back up off the bed slightly.

Suddenly John appeared to lose control of his senses and began to pound him relentlessly. Sherlock's whole body shook with the power and drive of John's muscular thrusting hips. His vision became blurred and hazy, he felt like his brain was rattling round his skull in a fog of pleasure.

He was unable to speak or move, just tuck his hands underneath John's shoulders and grip them tightly, an incoherent groan escaping his lips as he was ruthlessly fucked into the bed.

John half collapsed on Sherlock at some point, his arms giving in and forcing him to change position. He took advantage of it though, his thrusts slowing down, but going deeper in regular circular motions.
He was drawing it out, enjoying the chills of pleasure that ran up his spine and made him moan shamelessly.

He finally took the time to let his hand find Sherlock's erection, before he started massaging it sensually.

The change of pace gave Sherlock some time to recover, his breath knocked right out of him, he managed to open his eyes a little wider and refocus his attention on John.

It was a joy to see his lover's face twisting and twitching in pleasure. He smiled happily and reached his arms round John's neck, dragging him down for a deep kiss as they slowed the pace.

"This is incredible," he whispered, then let out a yelp of delight as John's hand found its way around his arousal, rubbing it gently up and down.

"God," he muttered and arched his back frantically, suddenly eager for another intense pounding.

John kissed him passionately, his feelings and lust pouring from his lips and movements, swirling in his head and making him drunk.
"It is, amazing, Sherlock," he whispered against his lips, his blue eyes filled with love.

When his lover arched his back, he knew he couldn't keep this in check any more, his muscles aching to move faster, his body craving for release.
"Come on, baby," he groaned, holding himself up again and starting to pound faster into him, the bed soon creaking again under the force of his thrusts. One hand still on Sherlock's arousal, he pumped it fast as he got closer to release.

The bed began to creak noisily with John's increased movements and for a brief moment Sherlock wondered whether Mrs Hudson would hear them and what she'd think before his mind was lost again in a haze of pleasure, John thrusting deep into him.

The friction of his lover's hadn on his arousal was beginning to take him right to the edge. He felt the tingling sensations building in his abdomen, his whole body screaming for release and then suddenly it hit him and he arched his back up off the bed towards John, calling out his name in an inarticulate muffled cry.

It happened so quickly, Sherlock arching off the bed, the feeling of muscles clenching around his arousal and his orgasm hitting him suddenly, leaving him groaning and moaning loudly.
It was a haze, he didn't even notice he had stopped pumping on his boyfriend's arousal, and that his hand was now filled with come.

"Jesus Christ," he exclaimed, his voice hoarse and low, and he was panting loudly. He leaned towards the side of the bed, slipping out of Sherlock with another groan.
"This was good, yes, we definitely need to do it often..." He commented, clearly amazed, turning around to see whether his boyfriend felt the same.

Somewhere in the middle of all the ecstacy Sherlock became aware of John's thrusts growing ragged and disjointed, his face contorted in orgasm as he mumbled something inaudable and he held onto his lover silently, still riding out the shockwaves of his own climax.

Breathless and giddy, Sherlock opened his arms to pull John into him for a warm embrace, gasping as he felt him slide out from inside him, the muscles of his entrance still holding on tightly.

He was barely able to speak as John snuggled by his side, turning to look at him with a
delirious lopsided grin.

"How does three times a day sound?" He mumbled, picking up John's hand in his and looking at the mess he had made with a fascinated frown. His eyes sparkled devilishly as he brought out his tongue and licked off the ejaculate, smirking.

"You're incredible John," he whispered, kissing the back of his boyfriend's hand tenderly. "And I do believe that I love you."

John couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up his chest when Sherlock suggested a set number of shags every day. "That might be a bit ambitious," he commented, kissing Sherlock's shoulder and neck as he snuggled close. "Not saying I won't try," he muttered with a small bite along Sherlock's ear.

Pupils widened considerably as he saw Sherlock lick his hand, but he tried not to let it get to him, he knew he was never going to be able to start again now, he was not a teenager any more, by a long shot.
"You just had an orgasm Sherlock, of course you love me, you would love anyone in this moment," he teased him, clearly in a good mood.
Oh yeah, sex was good.

Sherlock leant back a bit so he could get a better look at John, observing every detail with a smile before snuggling back towards him.

"I'm going to become an expert in this field John," he announced, beginning to get some new ideas. "I'm going to study every single sexual position and you're going to help me test them. Then I'll write a report and categorise them for a thesis. I may even have to put it on my website."

Sherlock frowned thoughtfully then kissed John once, gently on the lips. "I wouldn't love just anyone John," he whispered. "Because I wouldn't ever do this with anyone else."

John listened to Sherlock's words with an arched eyebrow, not at all impressed by the idea of his boyfriend studying their sexual intercourses.
"You want to tell the world how much sex we have, are you sure about that? If you publicize it too much you might get people coming here demanding I have sex with them," he joked, kissing Sherlock behind his ear.

"Can t this just be something for the two of us?" he whispered, his tongue coming out to lick along the shell of Sherlock's ear. "'Cause I love you too, and I loved being inside you, you felt so bloody good..."

Sherlock frowned. He was pretty sure John was joking but even so, he really didn't like the idea of anyone else having sex with John.

"I won't share you with anyone," he whispered, placing a loving kiss on his cheek. "You are mine."

"I suppose I don't have to put it on the website," he continued, beginning to ramble. "But I'd still really like to try out all the positions and write the details down purely for my own enjoyment and maybe - "

Sherlock suddenly stopped as he realised what John had said. John loved him. He smiled and brushed his boyfriend's lips gently with his fingers. "You're so special John," he mumbled.

"Then you shouldn't advertise how good I am in bed," he teased back, even though what he was really worried about was people coming after Sherlock, claiming they can show him new things, or claiming to be better, the detective would surely be curious, or maybe not? He looked at him curiously.

"When people are serious about each other, when they are in a steady relationship, there is an exclusivity clause, it means they don't sleep with anyone else..." he bit on his lower lip, silently praying he hadn't misjudged their relationship. "Is that what we are?" He asked, laying back on the bed.

"Well, Sherlock, I am willing to try whatever you want as long as it's because you want to have sex with me and not because it's an experiment..." he muttered, leaning into the touch on his face. He liked it. It felt intimate.
"Special...? As in... you must have so many issues for loving someone like me special?" he joked, nuzzling his fingers.

Sherlock chuckled lightly. He loved John's sense of humour. He was one of the only people who could make him laugh, genuinely. His laughter was always real around John. It was easy, not forced or fake like with everyone else.

He moved his hand from John's cheek to the top of his head, running his hands through his hair absent mindedly, loving the feel of it between his fingers.

"I never want anyone else John," Sherlock muttered quietly, but looking into his boyfriend's eyes as much as he could, to show he was serious. "And I never want you to have anyone else either. I...I want us to belong to each other, and each other only. Is that...is that right..is that normal?" He asked cautiously. He knew about the general idea of relationships of course, but was relatively unsure of the specifics, of how people were /supposed/ to feel in these situations.

"You're more to me than an experiment," he muttered, casting his eyes down to study the small scar on John's shoulder, one of his favourite parts of his boyfriend's body. "I will be writing things down in a scientific manner but...well...that doesn't mean I don't...um...care...about it." He smiled briefly, then coyly kissed John on the lips. "Love you."

John groaned as he felt the other's hand in his hair, he liked that quite a bit as well, hell, he probably liked everything coming from Sherlock now that they were together. The way they were together, it felt just... natural.
He also enjoyed seeing him laugh, but he reckoned that was rather normal considering he was head over heels for him, especially when he talked possessively about him and their relationship.

"Sounds about right," he said, leaning closer. "I reckon it's quite normal, I don't want you to be with any one else either, that's... why we are together I guess..." he muttered, smiling softly.

"I sure hope I am more than an experiment to you," he commented, noticing Sherlock's eyes moving down and frowning. "You can write what you want, Sherlock, it's your call I guess... I doubt it'll be useful, but I'll surely enjoy the different positions... as long as you don't get me injured, I am old you know," he muttered, his smile completely besotted after the soft kiss on his lips.

Sherlock loved the way John looked at him. He always had a special look reserved just for him, and Sherlock idly entertained the possibility that John had always loved him, from the day they met.

"Was it love at first sight John?" he asked, slightly teasingly, relishing the way John was looking at him right in that moment. It was beautiful, intense, glowing, genuine. No one had ever loved him. But John did. John made him feel special, wanted, amazing.

"You're not that old," Sherlock laughed and rolled his eyes, prodding John gently in the rib. "I'll keep you young. Plenty of sex and chasing criminals, that's what you need." He frowned, then added as an after thought, "Have you ever been in love before John?"

John looked at Sherlock weirdly as he asked him about love, it didn't seem like something he would be interested in, but there were things about his flatmate that were coming out only now that they were truly together.

He thought about it for a moment, thinking about that first day.
"Maybe," he replied, grinning a bit sheepishly. "I haven't really thought about it, there was surely a connection from that very first day, you impressed me, and I was hooked," he admitted, drawing patterns on his shoulder.

"I truly realized I was in love with you only when you were gone, and when you came back, well, I knew perfectly well I was attracted to you, I couldn't deny it any more," he confessed, looking away for a moment as he thought about the last question.

"I think I have been... I thought I was... I was engaged with someone when you were gone, Sherlock, she was quite amazing," he muttered, thinking back to Mary, how he hadn't been able to go through with it even though Sherlock was supposed to be dead.

"I always knew you were special John," Sherlock mumbled thoughtfully, remembering back to when they first met. In someways it felt like only yesterday. In other ways it felt like a lifetime. "You were different. Not like anyone I'd ever met. You're...you're the only one who can put up with me..."

He grinned and leaned in to kiss the John on the cheek chastely. "It wasn't till I went away I started to think that maybe you meant more to me...I mean...more than just a friend. I had these um...dreams...about you." He blushed, suddenly self conscious about talking so openly and decided not to continue.

Sherlock felt a flash of jealousy unlike anything he'd ever experienced when John told him about his engagement to a woman. "You did what?!" He exclaimed, his eyes widening. "You were going to get married? John! So, what, best friend kills himself 'oh well never mind I'll just go and get married', was that it?" He felt his heart clenching painfully. "Bloody hell John, I thought I meant something to you!"

"Dreams... about me?" he asked, wanting Sherlock to elaborate, he had to admit that he thought Sherlock had never entertained the thought of them together, he had always been so cool in regards to the needs of the flesh after all, not to mention his disdain for everything that was related to love. Was it possible that it was all a mask? That deep down Sherlock had always felt the need for companionship?

His eyes widened as Sherlock's voice rose, his tone confusing at first, but then John found himself fighting off irritation. "Jesus Christ Sherlock, you were away for three bloody years, what was I supposed to do, kill myself? Because I did consider it," he snapped, he really didn't like the accusation in Sherlock's voice.

"I am not married, am I? So what do you think stopped me? Mary is an amazing girl, but I couldn't go through with it because of the feelings I had for you, because I couldn't move on, so don't you dare giving me that attitude," he exclaimed, and then shook his head, leaning back on the bad, regretting his own tone as he took in a few deep breaths.

"I did tell you I had been engaged right when you came back, and you laughed at me for my series of failed relationships," he added, his voice softer.

Sherlock was surprised at John's sudden change of tone. He'd almost forgot his friend could have quite the temper when he wanted to, and didn't have any trouble standing up for himself.

He turned his head away and smirked, looking up at the ceiling, but really he was already regretting reacting the way he did. He knew he'd been over the top and dramatic, and he still felt guilty about his time away.

Finally he turned back over onto his side to look at his angry boyfriend.

"I...I am...sorry," he mumbled awkwardly. "I can't imagine how hard it was after...after I left and I...um...well had I actually been dead, I would have wanted you to move on with your life."

Sherlock frowned, hoping that would be good enough. He meant it though. The idea of John being upset, of considering suicide...it was devastating and he didn't even want to imagine it.

"You probably did tell me," he added. "But I really can't remember. Might not have been listening properly." He smiled slightly.

John took in a deep breath, trying to calm his angered heart, it was always difficult to come down one of those temper strikes, but he really didn't want to ruin the moment more than it had already been done.

Sherlock's tone was already different, so much that John couldn't help looking at him, surprised by the apology.
"You are jealous, that's it, isn't it?" he asked then, his lips curling in a smile. "You know perfectly well I had all rights to move on, but now that we have... well... a relationship, you can't stand the idea that I have loved other people before you," he muttered, complimenting himself mentally for how good he was at deducing, some of Sherlock's talent must have rubbed off to him.

Sherlock's eyes widened slightly with surprise. John had got him spot on.

"That's um...that sounds about right...actually," he admitted, clearing his throat. "Well...well done."

Sherlock rolled over onto his back again and stared at the ceiling, now suddenly understanding what it felt like to get deduced. No wonder people hated him.

It was a strange feeling though. He'd never really experienced jealousy before. At least, he didn't think he had. Not like this. To the point where he felt like he might kill anyone who even looked at John in anything other than a friendly manner. He would need to learn how to control himself all over again.