Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

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((I don't know him, obviously))

When they landed on the couch, Sherlock landed on top of John, which he rather liked. Now he was in control, though he had to admit that John was damn sexy when he was topping.

Sherlock skipped John's proud tall cock deliberately to tease. When he heard the moan, he had to pull his former statement together, because it was so tempting to give in and hear John moan again. When John complemented him, he smirked up, made sure John saw him and bit down.

Oh, John made the most cruellest of noises, cruel to Sherlock's pressing bulge at least.

But then his phone went off.

Sherlock sighed, glanced up as if he wanted to say: I'm not done with you and said: "I probably should. I haven't had a case for ages."

He rested his elbow on John's hip, his cheek sometimes touching John's cock as he got his phone out of his pockets. He switched the screen on and read the message

Second Murder, no sign of violence, suspect serial. Woman found on a roof in Camden.

"Hmmm" Sherlock hummed excited. He turned his head to face John, his nose rubbing John slightly. Sherlock's eyes began to shine, but it was different from lust.

Sherlock got up to his feet and smiled happily like a child who got a new toy. "Hmmm, probably a serial killer, John! That's always exciting!"

He then realised that he was an aroused John was still sitting on the couch, looking disappointedly up at him. Sherlock's excitement cooled a bit. He didn't want to torture John in this state.

He bowed down and put a demanding kiss on John's lips, making sure John knew they were going to continue this later.

"Do you mind if I-"

"Yeah, sure. Go ahead. I should probably get ready for work soon so..." John said with a wry smile. Sherlock was him very grateful, he really wanted to do this case.

Sherlock got up again and looked for the last time down to a very naked, very beautiful John. He held his hand out, which John grabbed and helped him up. John was barely standing when Sherlock tossed and arm around his waist and kissed him again, his hand wandering down to John's bum. John had a nice butt, a very, very nice butt.

"Now, come on, we need to go to Camden." Sherlock said when he released John. He watched him, grinning widely, until he was up the stairs and out of sight. Sherlock quickly put on his normal clothes and straightened them as good as he was able. He would wear the coat over it anyway.

Text me the details -SH he texted back. His mind was furiously trying to calm down and temper his bulge, but it wandered off to John. John in the shower. John in a towel. John without a towel.

"Hnngg, not helping!" Sherlock growled as he clenched his teeth. Since when was he so incapable of controlling his own mind? Rhetorical question.

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((Hahahahaha, brilliant :) ))

John sighed as Sherlock walked off. It was no more than he had expected, Sherlock would always be Sherlock- he might now be dating John, but he would always be married to The Work.

Still though, Lestrade really did have damnable timing with that text.

John popped in the bathroom and stood under a jet of freezing water in the shower, which quickly took care of his persistent erection. He then walked up to his room, smiling at the sight of the bed that was never used last night, and got dressed. He picked out the oatmeal jumper that he believed Sherlock was rather fond of- he had noticed that Sherlock would get impatient with him less frequently on days he wore this jumper. He put on an old pair of jeans- good for running, should the need arise at the case- and used his fingers to comb his hair (might as well leave it a bit messy, just to tease Sherlock a little).

Waiting at the door with his coat and gloves on, John smiled when Sherlock pulled on his coat and John noticed that he didn't look quite as calm and collected as he normally did when leaving for a case. He almost teased him about, but decided he would try to be nice and just opened the door.

They walked out to the curb, got a cab, and clambered inside. After the cab started, John slid his hand over next to Sherlock's, placing it palm up, trying to make it clear that if Sherlock wanted to, John was happy to hold hands, but they didn't have to.

"So, anything I should know before we arrive at the case?" John asked.

((So is the whole Yard going to catch John and Sherlock acting all lovey-dovey? I do totally plan on John getting completely distracted from the corpse by the sight of Sherlock's ass, because it is an extremely distracting sight))

((Oh, that sounds lovely! The bum thing then, not the lovey-dovey acting. I think it would be fun if there was a thick sexual tension building among them, even sensible by the Yard, but them without doing anything definite. Just to tease the Yard more, I thought that was kind of Sherlock-ish. And just fun. You know, standing very close to each other, having no sense of personal space. Things that (by the Yard) can be defined as Sherlock’s normal behaviour, but they doubt. So yeah, big yes to ass watching!))
It was so handy that John was left handed, so now that Sherlock entwined his fingers with John’s, Sherlock had his good hand left for texting. Without any comment or smile, he went on typing on his phone and explaining:

“Woman, found dead on a rooftop of a skyscraper. Whether the woman was an employer or not, Lestrade doesn’t know, tssk imbeciles .” Sherlock scoffed. Whether she was an employer is just using your eyes, easy as hell. But well, Sherlock didn’t expect much of Lestrade on a such mysterious case as this one. “She was shot in the back by two bullets. Just like the other woman who was found dead in a printing room of an office two weeks ago. Lestrade suspects a serial killer.” Sherlock couldn’t help a smile. Serial killers were fun, but no one was going to top the wasted cabbie from John’s ‘a study in pink’. That one had just been genius. Sherlock still couldn’t stand the fact that he didn’t know if he had been right.

When the car stopped, Sherlock nuzzled his nose in the hair behind John's ear and whispered in it: “Let’s play this game: let’s out us not yet, but see how long it takes for those morons to get it, without obvious sexual contact, ok?”

Sherlock retreated and paid the cabbie. He let go of John’s hand and got out, greeted by a tired looking Lestrade.

Having a crime scene up on the roof of a skyscraper, isn’t one of the Yard’s favourite things. The lift is handy, ok, but the personnel of the building has to be held into the building, which Sherlock found incredibly ridiculous, because on beforehand you can tell the suspect is not in the building. The security guarded the entrance, but Lestrade, who was already waiting for them, let them in.

The three of them stepped into the lift, which had to climb 14 stores until it reached the top. John stood close to him, John’s foot between Sherlock’s, though John stood a little behind him. Lestrade was busy talking to Sherlock and Sherlock was busy trying to get the essential data of his stream of useless words when he felt a warm hand cupping his ass under the coat. Sherlock’s remark that he was making had a second of slur, before he perfectly continued. Sherlock gave John a quick glance, who acted like nothing was happening, though he met his eyes in a flash. Sherlock smirked.

Lestrade finally shut up when the door opened. Lestrade went first on the crime scene, followed by Sherlock and John. Sherlock was taking his coat off, not because it was hot, but to give John something to look at while he was working.

((Let the games begin))

Subtle flirting game? John could totally do that, he even makes the first move by groping Sherlock a bit under his coat while meeting Lestrade at the door. Sherlock then removes the coat, impeding any further groping, but also giving John a bit more body to admire.

As usual, John does his basic medical review of the corpse (since Anderson obviously cannot be trusted to even correctly determine the time of death. While doing this, he feels Sherlock come up behind him, and then lean over John so closely they're touching, and Sherlock is softly making deductions right into John's ear. John shivers at the low voice being so close.

"From the look of the exit wounds, those bullets were fired from a fairly distance, no more than 20 meters away, possibly as close as 7. Very messy. If you look here," John points to the woman's head, "hairs have been ripped out. I can't tell if it was done before or after she was shot."

Sherlock's hand brushes along John's as he reaches over to examine the spot.

"After death, based off the marks on the scalp."

John turns and looks Sherlock right in the face, only inches apart and grins, "Fantastic, as usual."

He then backs off and stands near Lestrade, who looks at john with a raised eyebrow, "He's getting even worse with the personal space, isn't he?"

John just smiles.

Sally brings John a cup of coffee and chats idly about the case. John smiles politely, but doesn't really pay much attention.

"So, what did you do over the weekend?" she asks.

"Oh, I actually had a fantastic weekend. Had a nice night in with Sherlock the other evening, and also met this really great person. I may have finally found someone to date, long term. I will say, the sex is fantastic so far."

Lestrade congratulates John, Sally walks away looking disappointed. John looks over at Sherlock and thinks he can see a small grin on his face. Sherlock then moves over to the other side of the corpse, and John is given a perfect view of his ass as Sherlock leans over to collect something off the body.

John suddenly realizes that Sherlock is now looking back at him over his shoulder, and everyone else on the scene is staring at him.

"Sorry, what did you say? I got a bit...distracted."

((The game is afoot. Follow your spirits and upon this charge: Cry ‘God for Harry, England and Saint George!))
((I’m a Shakespeare geek :’) ))


“Yes, yes it was.” Sherlock agreed with John, clearly audible for the others in the room. Lestrade huffed and pouted, Sally stopped in her pace and turned back at them. Sherlock bowed over the body, not really examining it, he had already done that, but this was just to distract John.

“What did you just say?” Sally said flabbergasted. She stopped in her tracks and was looking from Sherlock to John who was clearly admiring Sherlock’s ass. Before she got rude, Sherlock replied impatiently.

“Yes, the sex was magnificent, as I deduced .” It was hardly a lie. He looked over his shoulder to John, who was staring. With a deliberate vibe in his low voice he added: “Wasn’t it, John?”

John blinked and shook his head slightly as he ‘awoke’ from his stunned state. He stammered and looked confused, a familiar sight, but it was cute.

“The sex was good, as I deduced this morning, don’t you agree?” No response. “You know the symptoms, I named them this morning. “ He recalled John’s state of this morning before his eyes. “Messy hair, flushed skin, aching muscles, lack of awareness of clothi-“

It was not John who cut him off, but it was Sally. She broke him off by coughing. She gave him her ever pouting and annoying glance.

Sherlock got up and put his coat on again. He gave her his normal expression back. Serious, piercing and a slightly bit bored. “As if you don’t know about that Sally. I can read your experience clearly by-“

Now he was cut off by John. He gave him a stern look, but winked to soften the edge.

“All right. Lestrade, you are looking for a middle sized man, around John’s height with a tremor in his right hand. As you see-“ He walked around the corpse, pointing at the breast shot. “This shot was not intended. He is not an employer of his office, but he is in frequent contact with it. A garbage collector would be most likely.” He had finished his round around the corpse and positioned himself slightly behind John, his shoulder was behind John’s.

“Fantastic, as usual?” Sherlock asked quietly in John’s ear. His lips an inch away from his ear. Sherlock slipped his hand down John’s back and rounded it around John’s butt.

“Do you need more or can John and I go back to our previous preoccupations?” He asked Lestrade, who was standing straight opposite them, next to Sally. He squeezed John at the last word with a nothing-revealing expression. He was dubious about what Lestrade would answer. He liked this game very much, but really wanted to get on with it and pin John against a wall somewhere.

((We can lengthen his moment if you want, I left it open to you))

((Shakespeare <3 ))

John could not decide if he was completely humiliated by this new level of Sherlock's display or not. He was finding that he was leaning a bit more towards turned-on.

John subtly slipped his own hand under Sherlock's coat and squeezed his ass.

"Yes, brilliant," he said quietly, "but can you please try to control yourself a little bit? I think you're traumatizing poor Lestrade."

To John's surprise, Lestrade snorted at the comment.

"As long as you both stay clothed, I could care less. You're the one who has to deal with him now, and I wish you the best of luck. Actually, I should thank you. I'm pretty sure I had a bet on this month for whether you would finally get together, you boys may have won me quite a nice pool of cash."

"However, Sherlock please keep aware that when you're working with the team in public I expect you to act decently or I will bring you up on sexual harassment charges, regardless of whether John is enjoying the attention. I don't need you to stick around any more, that should be enough for us to find the guy. Now get away before I have to bring you in for public indecency."

John walks away from Sherlock and heads to the door. As he passes by, Lestrade claps him on the shoulder, "I really hope you know what you've gotten yourself into."

"I don't, but I know whatever it is, I want it and I will work to make it work."

Lestrade smiles, "Good man, I think you two are lucky to have each other. You're certainly the only one who'll put up with him. You're certainly good for him, and I do believe that in some crazy way he's what you need."

"I don't know what I'd do without him. Thanks for saying that though mate, it means a lot to me to hear it."

John walks out, looking back at Sherlock to see if he's following. He gives a slow smile, and lets just a bit of controlled fire leak into his eyes.


((Just so you know, I just got back to university and am doing RA training, so my schedule is super crazy!!!!! I'm so sorry if I end up being horrible at replying on a regular basis over the next few days, I should have spare time again in a week or so!!!!))

((Hey, just wanted to check that everything is ok with you. I totally get if you're busy, that's fine, just hoping everything's alright. Either way, no rush on anything, hope you're happy and healthy!!!))

((Hi, Yeah, I am fine-ish... I have cut myself off from internet the past few days... The new school week started and I was kind of busy... I guess? Plus: I had kind of a writers block... I really wanted to rp, but I just couldn't... But yesterday I poured a piece of a new fic I had an idea about out of my brain, so that should be a sign that I am back on track!))
((I am perfectly healthy and happy, thank you. I really appreciate your concern :')))
((NOW: LET'S WRITE SOME SMUT))

The look John gave Sherlock on Lestrade’s condition was very annoying. John and Lestrade had the same opinion on civil behaviour and the look he have him was like he wanted to say: ‘I told you so’. It was annoying, but it was also a quality of John that he loved.

Sherlock caught John’s slightly lusty look and returned it. Without thinking, he followed John like a little doggie. He caught John’s waist on their way on the lift and waiting on the doors to open, Sherlock turned to Lestrade.

“Nothing changed much. If you need me again, just text me, but don’t expect an immediate answer. Probably I am exploring John’s immens-“

Naturally, he was cut off by John, who had found more distracting and efficient way of letting him know he should shut up . John did this by squeezing his butt, which made Sherlock jump a little.

They heard a bright ‘bing’ of the elevator and the shifting of the doors. He pulled John inside, positioning him to the wall where the buttons were. Leaning over John, steadied by his hand on the wall next to John’s ear, he pushed the button of their aimed level and simultaneously, pressed a kiss on John’s lips. He was perfectly aware that the doors were open and Lestrade (along with some other crew) was probably watching, but they couldn’t object. The couple was dismissed and thus not ‘working with the team in public’. He felt John’s hands on his hips, not sure if it was just a reflex or deliberate (regarding the fact that the team could still see them). The kiss turned into a lusty one by the time the doors were on their way of closing.

Sherlock smirked into the kiss when the doors finally closed and they were on their way down. He suspected John to give a lecture on how inappropriate that was and decided to prevent that by breaking from the kiss and whispering:

“Yes, we just did that and no, it was not inappropriate, because Lestrade dismissed us. Moreover: you were just screaming to be touched and kissed and don’t pretend you didn’t like them watching. It is a special sort of kink-“ He pressed a kiss on John’s neck, just that spot of which he melted. He found that spot out very quickly and longed to find out more of John’s sensitivities.

((That all totally makes sense, glad to have you back though. Also, AHH!!! Hot elevator kisses!!! So yummy!!!))

John was really struggling to keep his sanity. How the hell had Sherlock already found one of his weak points? They'd only been at this for a day!

Suppose that's what I get for sleeping with a genius detective.

Granted, the idea of Sherlock focusing all his powers of observation and deduction onto John, with the goal of learning the best ways to make John orgasm, was something that quite obviously made John's knees go weak. This could be a wonderfully dangerous thing.

John tried to summon up the will to glare at Sherlock.

"You ass, I do not have a publicity kink! That was still inappropriate and you are NOT doing it again. Just because you're unbelievably sexy and I'm around you all day, does not mean that I'm now going to lose all my sense of propriety."

John knew in the back of his head that this statement was made far less effective by the fact that he now had one hand wrapped in Sherlock's hair and was nibbling on Sherlock's ear as he said it.

John hears the elevator bing as they reached the ground floor and he slips out of Sherlock's arms. He straightened his clothes as the doors opened and walked out. As he was walking towards the door his phone chimed with a text.

It seems that congratulations are in order. Know that if you hurt my brother I will ensure that no one ever finds your body. Glad you two finally caught on. -MH

John laughs, "Seems your brother has given me his approval, in his own unique way. Remind me that if we ever have a fight, it would be in my best interest to completely change my identity."

As they reach the sidewalk, John turns to Sherlock, who is giving him the universal look of the sexually frustrated. John smirks and gives Sherlock a contemplative look back.

"Well, this is a new Look for you, I think I like this one. Something you're wanting? Something you want to do with me, or to me? Something you want me to do for you?"

((Hihi thanks! I really liked that too :D Two other reasons for my absence: I read too much fanfic. I read A cure for Boredom and started A Study in Winning and School for Scandal. Wow. Just wow. And the other: I showed addictive symptoms to this particular rp website. You know... too much refreshing and stuff, so I had to... go into rehab of sorts :P))

“Mycroft.” Sherlock grumbled, but with a slight smile. Of course he was watching them and of course he had to threaten John. But Sherlock didn’t need Mycroft’s approval, though it may come in handy in the future.

John’s words, together with that insufferable smirk stirred the lust he had subconsciously been trying to temper in his insides. But now John was practically asking for it, Sherlock couldn’t ignore.

While they were walking, Sherlock had to sigh deeply, bite his lip and look around to assemble himself, because he was getting very hot under his coat.

In the corner of his eye, he saw it, the opening of an alley, which was going to be their saviour. He guided John to the alley, looking back with a nonchalant expression. For pedestrians it would look like they were going for a short cut of sorts. Of course John would know the extra purpose of a dark alleyway, like they had done before. But now for real.

When they were down the alley, far enough away from the busy street to be unrecognized, Sherlock shoved John carefully up to the wall.

“You have no idea.” He growled and he kissed John right on his mouth. He had wanted to do that for such a long time... 30 minutes to be exact. How do normal people survive sexual tension without bursting? Sherlock thought weakly.

John may be the one pressed to the wall, but he soon took the lead. He licked Sherlock’s lower lip as a request and Sherlock eagerly let him in. Something in John’s kissing made Sherlock’s thoughts go blurry, which was an extraordinary compliment. John sucked and licked with the right pressure, teased with the maddening intensity. God, John was a bloody good kisser. He moaned in John’s mouth of the new snogging experience which was so arousing and hot that Sherlock didn’t dare to think of the time he hadn’t experienced this.

Sherlock unconsciously grinded his hips into John’s pelvis, which was rewarded with a moan. He scooted the hand that was not beside John’s head up John’s chest, feeling the body warmth through his open coat.

((Page 10!!!))

((Oh my goodness, that totally makes sense! I never knew what internet addiction was until I found Sherlock forums. Cure for Boredom is fun :) ))

John had watched Sherlock scanning around, trying to find some dark corner they could duck into, with excitement. He didn't have a publicity kink in the manner of exposing himself in front of people, but the added sense of danger that came along with a chance of being caught in this alleyway added a thrill to the event.

Sherlock was grinding up against him and clawing at his shirt, and John was losing his control. His head was spinning from their kiss, the skin beneath Sherlock's hands prickled with the awareness that only a thin layer of clothing separated it from Sherlock's skin. John was shaking from the contrast of the freezing cold of the brick wall behind him and the burning heat of Sherlock pressed up against his front. It was all far too much.

John pulled away from Sherlock's mouth and gasped. He lay his head against Sherlock's shoulder.

"Sherlock---I---God do you realize what you're doing to me right now?? I've never been affected like this, I...I can't keep my head...how are you doing this?"

Sherlock looked worried and John kissed along his cheeks comfortingly.

"It's ok, I feel amazing, I'm just rather surprised, and losing myself in this so fully is a bit unnerving. Not quite sure what to do."

((Yes, yes it is! I decided to not take any new rp's from now on, because I really need to get my priorities sorted out. Luckily, you are one of the oldies, so don't worry ;)))

John’s enjoyment was physically obvious by then, so Sherlock was confused and worried when John stammered his words.

Sherlock smiled smugly when John confirmed his pleasure. It was obvious, but it still stroked Sherlock’s ego when John confirmed Sherlock had a particular positive effect on him.

“Then don’t do anything.” Sherlock rumbled. His hands glided down John’s sides very slowly. He cupped John’s bulge and added whispering: “I owe you, remember?”

Sherlock found a strange fluttering feeling in his stomach. It was happiness, but also insecurity. Could he do this? He had only experienced it once before and he had not been perfectly able to gather data back then, because his mind wasn’t working coherently. He had studied it in videos once and surprisingly kept it in his Mind Palace. Now it would come in handy.

Sherlock kissed John’s neck while opening the fly of John’s trousers and pushed them down. Giving John a last smirk, he knelt down before him and gripped his hips for support.

Through his pants, John showed interest in the matter and Sherlock teased him by just breathing onto it. He heard John whimper and finally rewarded him by taking the cloth in his mouth.

((Thank goodness. Well, I will try my best to help you keep your priorities on school, can't really argue against that one))

John's head fell back hard against the wall and he was embarrassed to hear whimpers escaping his lips as Sherlock's mouth closed around the cloth of his pants. Even through the material, the heat and dampness of the mouth felt amazing.

"Oh-oh God, Sherlock..." he breathed out.

John wrapped his fingers into Sherlock's curls, giving him something solid to ground him a bit. The roughness of the cotton pants, rubbing up against his sensitive cock, was sending sparks through John's nerves. He was so caught up in that he didn't notice Sherlock's hands slipping up his legs until his pants had already been pulled down and a gust of cold air hit his bare hips. The sudden change in temperature made John jerk in surprise, pushing his cock closer to Sherlock's lips. John then felt something smooth rub against his groin, and looked down to see Sherlock just skimming his lips and cheek against John's cock, so lightly John could barely feel it. It reminded John of when Sherlock would first skim his fingers over a corpse- collecting data, Sherlock was collecting data on him.

John slid one hand down to Sherlock's neck, and gently rubbed circles with his thumb under Sherlock's scarf. Sherlock looked up at John then, silver-blue eyes piercing through the messy curls that had slipped forward, and John's breath caught in his throat at the sight.

"Oh God," John groaned, "Sherlock, as much as I love what you're doing, and I so want to do this slow and drawn out sometime, hopefully soon- I can't do that now. The grasp I have on my control is not good at the moment, and watching you like this isn't helping it."

John has to stop and take a few deep breaths before he can continue.

"Please, please just do something, anything now, and I promise we can then go back to the flat, and next time can be as slow and teasing as you want. Not this time though, I won't make it. Also, your knees are going to hurt like hell if you're kneeling in the cold for too long."

John then lets his head fall back again, communication abilities used up for the moment.

((Yeah, well... I curse the time difference with great anger, because I wanted to respond to this and while it is Saturday tomorrow, I'll have to get up early and travel to go to an intense acting class (which is absolute fun!). In eight hours I'll have to get up and I am writing an rp here My own responsibility, I know, but yeah...))

Sherlock was getting quite hot himself by looking at John. He looked ravished, having a hard time keeping himself together and utterly delicious.

Sherlock studied John. He was shorter than him, but also thicker. The lighting was bad and he needed to inspect John more... thoroughly.. another time. The flushed curve just screamed to be caressed and John quite vocally insisted him on carrying on quickly. John’s words faltered with a shudder and made Sherlock shiver.

How much he wanted to draw this out, do this slow, he just couldn’t. John practically begged for it and they were in an alley. Sherlock looked left and right to the end of the alleys just to check. The coast was clear. He looked up, and made sure John watched him.

“As you wish, but you’ll have to be quiet.”

It was a kiss at first, but soon it transformed. He explored John’s most sensitive skin with the tip of his tongue, to get used to this feeling. It was a weird sensation, tasting and feeling John. It was so intense, even Sherlock’s mind went blurry for a second. But the rest of his body felt great, though. His lower abdomen even responded to the new incentives.

The moment was interrupted by John, who jolted into Sherlock’s mouth and gripped his hair more tightly. Sherlock got the hint and started moving. Sherlock was clumsy at first and tried to hide it as good as possible by guiding his hands to John’s balls. He seemed to like that, regarding to the muffled moans and sighs that came from above.

John, indeed, didn’t last long.

((So was the Princess Bride reference intentional, because it made my day.))

John realizes the truth of Sherlock's words, he really does need to be quite, which is unfortunately not something that John has a great about of control over. He stuffs his fist into his mouth and bites down hard. Even this doesn't totally stop the moans and cries from slipping out when Sherlock finally starts sucking and licking along John's member.

John tugged at Sherlock's hair frantically, trying to indicate that he was about to come so that Sherlock could back off. Sherlock just increased pressure and speed, and John screamed around his fist. White spots exploded across John's vision and his back arched up off the wall. For a few seconds he couldn't breathe, and his legs lost all their strength.

John finally came back to himself with a gasp, to find Sherlock holding him against the wall, trying to support his weight. John could think of nothing to say and just pulled Sherlock in for a deep kiss, trying to convey his emotions that way.

"That was amazing. I really want to get home as soon as possible though, so I can show you how fantastic I think you are."

John starts to move his hand down to Sherlock's trousers.

"Need me to take care of you now, or do you want to wait until we get home?"

((So you can decide how best to move this along. We can quickly jerk Sherlock off and do a longer scene later, Sherlock can wait, or have already come. I also know that we were thinking of having Moriarty come in eventually, and have Sherlock try flirting for a case so John can get jealous and possessive. Was also thinking it could be funny at some point for John to pull a 'you're sleeping on the couch' so Sherlock can throw an epic pouting fit))

((Princess Bride? huh?))

Sherlock looked up as he felt John's pulse rise in his mouth. He was so much taken aback of the gorgeous sight of a climaxing John above him, that he almost forgot to swallow. John didn't really taste delicious (he didn't expect him to), but it intensified the new sensations he was having. He felt maddening hot and itchy down under and seeing John experiencing his climax, was almost enough to get him over the edge.

He worriedly supported John, whose knees were failing him. The fear that it all became too much for him (he could have gotten a stroke, you never know) was like a fresh breeze through his mind and erection.

John pulled him in for the deepest, hottest kiss he had ever had, which activated Sherlock's lust again. Sherlock was just beginning to understand what a kiss could do to him. It was fantastic.

Sherlock smirked at John's praise. John always praised so vocally and it was always very nice to hear that. He couldn't wait until they got home and John showed him. He literally couldn't.

John's lips had been close when he mumbled his plans and question. Sherlock had been so distracted that he hadn't fully noticed that John was turning him around so that Sherlock stood against the wall.

"Well, I-I just c- can't-" Sherlock stammered, interrupted by quick kisses on his neck. Sherlock felt like he was a hump of limbs, not coherent enough to formulate something decent, which was unusual to say the least. Before he knew it, John kissed him again and a hand was on his trousers.

"Urgg-" Sherlock grunted in John's mouth and involuntarily jolted in his hand, which send sparks of fire though him.

"Shhhh-" John managed to shush, but Sherlock didn't really care.

The kiss got deliciously rough. John was licking and tugging at his lips and massaged his groin through the cloth of his pants. The feeling of slight rough fabric rubbing against his flushed member, made Sherlock exhale pathetic whimpers. He should be ashamed of himself, but he didn't care. Not with John.

John touched him through his trousers and soon though his pants only. Sherlock groaned again, pulling John closer by the hand in the nape of his neck. Sherlock felt John also scooting a hand under his shirt. The direct contact was He couldn't think about anything but John and the familiar pressure building up in his abdomen.

Without one direct touch done to his groin, Sherlock came in his pants. It was rather embarrassing, he reacted just like he was in high-school. But after the amazing sight of John and these sensations, he didn't need much. He ground into John's hand and hips and gasped. Clasping John very tightly, he surrendered to the joy that was embracing him.

When the vibes of bliss were fading, he sighed deeply to get some oxygen into his system.

"Mischief managed." He managed to sigh and with one look at John's features, he burst out into giggles.

((Err, I thought John was going to the clinic later on? AND they'd have a date, wouldn't they? And I would really love to do a case with flirting involved. That would just be priceless.But what do you mean with the 'pouting fit'? I didn't quite catch that...))

((80's movie, main character using the phrase 'As you wish' to say 'I love you'. Crap, I totally forgot that John still had to work today...guess he should probably be responsible...Date will definitely happen, I'd just lost track of it, so thank you for the reminder. As for pouting fit, not really important. Just got an idea from a comic of how Sherlock would react to John kicking him out of bed one night as punishment for something- probably blowing up the kitchen. The idea amused me, that's all))

As Sherlock finally came down from his orgasm, John gently covered his face with kisses, smiling broadly.

"I cannot believe you just sucked me off in some sketchy back alley. My mother would be so horrified with me right now."

John kisses the tip of Sherlock's nose.

"You sir, are a very bad influence on me," John gives a laugh at Sherlock's face, "Oh quit looking so pleased with yourself about it!"

He hugs Sherlock close, then pulls back to start redressing himself. Once they're both pulled together, John glances at his watch.

"Shit! I have to get into work, I'd forgotten. I have to go, Lock, and you should probably go change," John takes a moment to appreciatively gaze at Sherlock's hair, mussed up and looking utterly sexy.

"Also, I believe I promised you a date. Can you call in and make a reservation at Angelo's for 19 hundred? I'll drop by the flat after work to change and pick you up, then we can walk over."

John takes Sherlock back in his arms.

"I'll miss you," he leans up and hovers his lips over Sherlock's, "this is for you to think about until I come home tonight."

The kiss is sweet and chaste, just a soft touching of lips, letting Sherlock know how much John was looking forward to more intense kisses when he came home.

----------

*18:00 (6 p.m.)*

"Evening Sara, see you Thursday."

"Bye John. Have any plans for your day off?"

"Well...ummm, I'd prefer if you kept it to yourself, but I...Sherlock and I are together now...as of last night actually."

Sara laughs, "About time! Congratulations John. In that case, I hope your have a very enjoyable day off!"

John blushes, waves, and leaves. He grabs a cab back to Baker Street, smiling when he gets out. He swears he just saw Sherlock in the sitting room window. He climbs the stairs, and opens the door.

"Hello, Sherlock, I'm home!"

((Yay for narrative time! I love being able to skip straight through whole boring days of work, and get right to date night!!!))

When Sherlock got home, he jumped under the shower to rinse himself. He had a hard time thinking about John when he wasn’t actually there. John’s last kiss had been so sweet. Too sweet, because Sherlock knew he was holding back, which unnerved him even more.

He threw the soiled pants in the laundry basket on his way to his closet. He picked the purple shirt John admired so much and a very, very deep blue suit. Also the normal underwear: pants and socks to be decent. When he was all dressed and ready he took a look at the time.

Four hours to go. Shit.

Sherlock nervously tapped with his fingertips against his sides. No John. No case. No mysteries. No John. Damn.

Then he had a brilliant idea. He was going to do research. Much research. Thorough research. Yes, good idea. Very good idea.

He immediately began with his research.

***

Sherlock’s plan was to surprise John by assaulting him and kissing him the moment he came in. After thorough analysis, he decided against it. It was unpractical to sit all the time horny in the restaurant. Of course they could get at it right on the spot, but what fun was a date then? Maybe for another time.

Instead, Sherlock was sitting in his usual armchair, laptop on his lap. He was still looking as neat and ready as when he first came out of the shower. He replaced the laptop and got up when John opened the door. He swiftly pressed a chaste kiss on John’s lips in a greeting. Fluttering appeared in his belly again. Hmmmm.

“Obviously.”

John rolled with his eyes, but laughed anyway. John’s eyes were dark again, oh it was so easy. Sherlock went back to sitting in his armchair. He crossed his legs and folded his hands together.

“Did you call Angelo’s?”

“But of course. I told him to set a candle on our table. He was overjoyed.”

John smiled and blushed slightly. He was leaning with on the back of his armchair and he was looking utterly adorable. Sherlock wanted to run his fingers through that sandy hair and stroke that jawline downwards until-

He coughed ambiguously. “Ready when you are.”

((Oh, never heard of it, but now I know the 'as you wish' thing, it was actually kind of what Sherlock meant I guess. I'm glad it made your day! :)))

John could tell Sherlock was holding himself back when he greeted him, trying to control himself so they could actually make it to the date. He appreciates the effort, and knows how much trouble he himself is having doing the same thing.

"Ok, I'm going to quickly neaten myself up."

John takes a quickly shower (the military thankfully taught him how to get sufficiently clean in 7 minutes), shaved, put on his date aftershave, then went to get changed. He picked out a dark gray shirt that he always got compliments on, and a pair of black slacks. He combed his hair down and then nervously looked in the mirror. It was rather ridiculous, he had gone to Angelo's with Sherlock countless times before, but now he was suddenly feeling like this was the first time.

He goes downstairs and gives Sherlock a small smile, then they walk over. Angelo greets them enthusiastically, and berates them for taking so long to get together. John laughs at Angelo's parent-like behavior, and orders lasagna.

As they are each having a glass of wine, John looks up at Sherlock and gives a playful grin. He gently rubs Sherlock's ankle with the tip of his foot and then repeats a question from their first time here.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No, not really my area."

John grins wider.

"Alright... Do you have a boyfriend? Which is fine, by the way."

"I know it's fine."

"So you've got a boyfriend?"

((Fluff, just pure fluff))

((Fluff, fluff is god. I can live with that))

Sherlock pouted thoughtfully for a moment.

"No."

"But, wha-"

Sherlock looked up with a reassuring, familiar glint of want in his eye. He saw John loosen up a bit. His foot had stiffened against his ankle.

"No, I don't have a boyfriend. I don't think that word covers it." He said in a light tone, trying to get the airy feeling back. He moved his leg against his foot a bit as a reassurance. John got the hint.

"Not a boyfriend but more? He must be very special then."

"He is."

Sherlock, for once, couldn't hold the piercing eye-contact. This conversation was getting far too close to his actual feelings. He was getting quite hot. He blushed and looked at the suddenly interesting plate before him.

He felt John's fingers stroking the back of his hand. Sherlock looked at them and turned his hand up so that John could hold his hand. They ended up fiddling with their fingers, not sure whether to entangle them or to hold them. John huffed a laugh and Sherlock finally dared to look up.

John looked happier than he had ever seen him. Even when he was with his girlfriend, he was always slightly tense when he was with her around Sherlock. This situation seemed the best solution for every party involved.

((BUT THEN I have to ruin the fluff with a meaning xD Ah well...I actually was writing the end of the dating scene, that they leave... but then I thought: Are you ok with that?))

((Totally fine, it's so sweet, and I agree that the term 'boyfriend' doesn't really cover it))

John leans across the table and gives Sherlock just the lightest of kisses. He's so happy he feels like he's glowing, he finds he can't stop smiling. He looks down at his hand- intertwined with Sherlock's, then glances back up at Sherlock and blushes lightly. He can't remember the last time he felt like this, all floaty and warm, with a light tingle in his stomach. He gently squeezes Sherlock's hands, trying to show him how happy he is.

Angelo comes over and beams down at Sherlock and John like they're the cutest couple in the entire world. He takes away their plates and then gives them a knowing look.

"So, will you be having dessert here or at home?"

John turns bright red and starts stammering.

Angelo laughs, "Oh, nothing to be embarrassed about! I'm so happy to finally be able to tease you about it! Go home, enjoy your night!"

((Yay for awkward Angelo!!! Thank you for prompting them to more sexytimes, or at least happy sweet cuddling!!!!)

Dessert? Sherlock thought confused. Was that another pun he didn't know about?

Sherlock smiled and thanked him, not looking at Angelo, but his eyes ever so fixed on John. He was beaming like never before. And all because of him. Wow. Sherlock could hardly grasp that. It gave him a good feeling, which was all that mattered.

He let go of John's fingers and got up to put on his coat. John did the same and together they walked home, holding hands. It was quite weird for Sherlock to adjust his state of mind. He thought he wasn't the man for romance, but now it all seemed so logical. And logical was good.

They arrived before the front door of 221B Baker Street. Sherlock retrieved the house key to open the door, but John stopped him. Sherlock let the keys slip into his pocket and looked up.

"I had a really lovely evening."

Sherlock wondered where this was going. Was he looking for confirmation? That was hardly needed, was it? They had only seen each other being happy the whole date.

"Yes, me too."

"Maybe we could... do this more often...?"

John was pulling him closer and entangled his fingers in Sherlock's again. Sherlock got the idea where this was going. He smirked.

"Yes, that would be very nice."

And then John kissed him like never before. It was like it was their first kiss. First very hesitant and cute and perfect. The amount of feeling behind it intensified everything. Sherlock was astonished. This was how their first kiss should have been.

Sherlock freed his fingers and wrapped both his arms around John's waist. John, in turn, draped his arms around Sherlock's neck and stood tip-toe. Sherlock shortly lifted him from the ground, which made John smile happily.

Their snogging was the only thing that mattered. The rest of the world didn't exist. Whole London could pass by and they wouldn't notice. It was just perfect.

But they both were getting cold, so they had to end it. Gasping for breath and with dark eyes, Sherlock and John parted with wide grins on their faces.

"Care for a dessert?"

"If with 'dessert' you mean: having wicked sex then, yes."

((FLUFF I LOVE FLUFF))

((Oh my goodness, so many butterflies in my stomach from reading that!!!))

John stopped Sherlock at the door, if this was their 'first date' he was going to play the date out completely, which meant that it was time for a sweet kiss at the door. At first Sherlock seemed confused, but he soon caught on. The kiss was perfect- sweet and soft, but full of feeling behind it. John had kissed a fair amount of girls in his past (Three Continents and all that), but every time he kissed Sherlock it was like relearning what a proper kiss was supposed to feel like.

When they parted from the kiss, John brought back up the innuendo Angelo had made. He slipped his hand into Sherlock's pocket, groping around more than was necessary to find the door key.

"Yes, that is exactly what I had in mind."

John opened the door, then turned and took hold of the end of Sherlock's scarf, using it to gently pull him in the door, and into another kiss. He then stepps back, quickly darting over to the stairs. He gives Sherlock a grin.

"Come and get me if you want me," he calls out before running up to their floor.

He can hear Sherlock behind him, quickly catching up because of his height advantage. He gets in their door and turns back in time to see Sherlock come in. Sherlock closes the door without looking, focusing on John with a dark predatory smile- John feels exactly like a mouse cornered by a cat (a very, very sexy cat. A cat he actually wanted to be caught by).

"Got you now," Sherlock says in his dark, velvet voice, and he starts slowly stalking towards John.

John backs away, still smiling, aware that Sherlock was herding him towards the bedroom. He allows himself to cross through the doorway before trying to run around Sherlock. Sherlock, predictably, reacts quickly and tackles John back onto the bed.

John laughs, blood rushing with adrenaline and endorphins from the game.

"Seems you've caught me, I'm all yours now," he wraps his legs around the backs of Sherlock's thighs as he speaks, and runs his hands over Sherlock's arms, "Planning on having your wicked way with me?"

((Figure you're alright with the foreplay and getting to 'hunt' John into the bedroom?))

((EwwmyGOOOODDDD sooo hot!! I-just-can't-.... Eh- Ah- I am more than alright with that.))

The chase freed his oppressed lust he had been tempering the whole afternoon and evening. The adrenaline, oxytocin and endorphins were running through his veins. It was so strong that he was almost trembling with excitement.

Sherlock made his personal mission: Making John crazy. And he had a plan to achieve his goal.

Sherlock caught John's wrist and pinned them next to John's head. He bowed down with his head and whispered in John's ear: "You are mine tonight, mine alone. I can do anything I want with you." John shuddered under him. The power of words was unbelievable.

Sherlock stroked with the tip of his cold nose feathery over the side of John's face. He deliberately avoided John's lips with a grin. Then, he worked down John's neck with his lips without any pressure. He let his breath stroke John's smooth neck when he began talking.

"Do you know what I am going to do? I'm going to make you crazy with lust by being soft, but merciless. Like a cat. Until you beg me to touch you, to kiss you, to take you. Because I can take you now. I will take you."

((Oh, and thank you!))