FIC: Once a Soldier, Always a Soldier 3/3
FIC: Once a Soldier, Always a Soldier 3/3
Title: Once a Soldier, Always a Soldier 2/3
Pairing: BAMF!John/Sherlock
Rating: PG-13 ultimately
Word Count: 900
Warnings: Awkward attempt at sex
Summary: John decides to take things into his own hands. Spoilers up through episode 1x03
Prequel
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
AN: Thanks to novadiab1o for the Beta!
John lay in bed staring at the ceiling, his erection becoming something of a
distraction. After ten minutes of tossing and turning (when he’d rather just toss off),
he finally rolled off the bed and slid his feet into faded, comfortable slippers.
Leaving his robe behind he went downstairs in search of his erstwhile companion,
whom he found standing the in the kitchen staring idly out the window, his hands
braced on the sink. For a moment, John watched Sherlock, the slump of his
shoulders, his whole body projecting an air of dejection.
Moving up behind him, John slid his arms around Sherlock’s waist.
“John, listen -”
“Sherlock, for once in your life, shut up,” John said, sliding a hand under his t-shirt,
letting his fingers drift across Sherlock’s belly, eliciting a short gasp. “Just let me
take care of things, alright? Do you trust me?”
For a moment, a silence stretched between them before Sherlock answered, “With
my life.”
“I only needed trust with your body, but that’ll work too,” John replied, smiling against
Sherlock’s neck; kissing and nuzzling the back of his neck.
“That’s very - I rather -”
“Sherlock, Shut. Up. Or I’ll stop.”
Sherlock shut his mouth, perhaps the most difficult task he’d ever had to do in his
whole life.
John managed to get Sherlock out of his robe and his t-shirt over his head before
turning the other man to face him. Sherlock looked slightly glassy-eyed and he had
a sort of daft smile on his face. John nearly laughed, but pulled him into a hungry
kiss instead.
He slid a hand between them, shoving down their pants to free their cocks. When
his fingers wrapped around Sherlock, his friend shot up to his tip toes for a moment
before settling back on the ground.
“A little warning would have been - ooh that’s good. That’s very good,” Sherlock
moaned, leaning against the sink so he didn’t slide to the floor.
“Yes, I know it’s good, feel free to return the favor,” John groaned, nudging his prick
against Sherlock.
“Right, sorry,” Sherlock replied, finally looking down between them. His cock was
certainly paler than John’s, but every time John pulled the foreskin back, he could
see how red the tip was.
Sherlock was more tentative as he reached for John, watching his fingers wrap
around the hard flesh and looking at John’s face when he heard his tight gasp.
“This is rather nice, isn’t it?” Sherlock grinned, matching what John was doing with
his hand, the two of them building a rhythm.
John’s head was slightly back and he was grinning. “You should have taken on a
mistress sooner.” A moment later, John’s head snapped forward and his hand
stopped moving. “If you ever refer to me as your mistress to anyone, not only
will I kill you, but this will all end.”
“Yes, fine, get back to it would you? I was just getting close,” Sherlock whined,
thrusting into his hand.
John rolled his eyes, and then swatted Sherlock’s hand away. “Lean back and
relax,” he ordered, wrapping his fingers around both of their cocks and beginning to
stroke, his hips rocking against Sherlock.
“Oh god -" Sherlock moaned, bracing his hands on the sink behind him, his hips
thrusting into John’s hand and his face a mask of pleasure.
John couldn’t look away from Sherlock, studying the new expressions and
cataloguing all of the soft moans and gasps. Yes, he could definitely be Sherlock’s
mistress if he could cause that face on a regular basis.
“John - John I’m -”
“Come for me, Sherlock,” John whispered, tightening his grip as his hand stroked
upward, circling the heads of their cocks. With the down stroke, Sherlock was
coming, hot spurts of semen hitting John’s stomach and covering his hand.
“Yes,” John hissed, balls tightening as his orgasm hit, his jizz mixing with Sherlock’s
on his hand. He had the worst desire to clean his hand with his tongue, but he
wasn’t sure Sherlock was ready to see that quite yet.
Instead, he grabbed the nearest tea towel and cleaned himself up a bit, washing his
hands in the sink.
“Alright, Sherlock?” he asked, looking sideways at Sherlock, who was still braced
against the counter, looking shell-shocked. “Sherlock?”
“What?” Sherlock finally looked at him, blinking, a silly smile appearing.
“Alright?”
“Brilliant, actually. My mind is, well, I can’t even explain how fast my mind is
going. This is better than a nicotine patch. Stay here, I need to go think about - OH!
How could I be so stupid! It’s was in the lipstick! How could I be so thick! Get
dressed, we have to go talk to Lestrade,” he said, stalking from the room in search of
clothing.
John watched him go then laughed, nearly bent over with how funny he found the
whole situation. He’d found a substitute for all the nicotine and those other drugs
that he and Sherlock both pretended weren’t in the house.
Sherlock’s head peeked around the door frame. “John, get dressed! Didn’t you hear
me? The lipstick!” He pulled up short. “Why are you laughing?”
The question merely made John laugh harder. Poor Sherlock, so brilliant, but oh so
clueless about so many things.
“Coming,” he finally managed to get out, pushing past Sherlock to get up to his room,
giggling all the way.
Title: Once a Soldier, Always a Soldier 2/3
Pairing: BAMF!John/Sherlock
Rating: PG-13 ultimately
Word Count: 900
Warnings: Awkward attempt at sex
Summary: John decides to take things into his own hands. Spoilers up through episode 1x03
Prequel
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
AN: Thanks to novadiab1o for the Beta!
John lay in bed staring at the ceiling, his erection becoming something of a
distraction. After ten minutes of tossing and turning (when he’d rather just toss off),
he finally rolled off the bed and slid his feet into faded, comfortable slippers.
Leaving his robe behind he went downstairs in search of his erstwhile companion,
whom he found standing the in the kitchen staring idly out the window, his hands
braced on the sink. For a moment, John watched Sherlock, the slump of his
shoulders, his whole body projecting an air of dejection.
Moving up behind him, John slid his arms around Sherlock’s waist.
“John, listen -”
“Sherlock, for once in your life, shut up,” John said, sliding a hand under his t-shirt,
letting his fingers drift across Sherlock’s belly, eliciting a short gasp. “Just let me
take care of things, alright? Do you trust me?”
For a moment, a silence stretched between them before Sherlock answered, “With
my life.”
“I only needed trust with your body, but that’ll work too,” John replied, smiling against
Sherlock’s neck; kissing and nuzzling the back of his neck.
“That’s very - I rather -”
“Sherlock, Shut. Up. Or I’ll stop.”
Sherlock shut his mouth, perhaps the most difficult task he’d ever had to do in his
whole life.
John managed to get Sherlock out of his robe and his t-shirt over his head before
turning the other man to face him. Sherlock looked slightly glassy-eyed and he had
a sort of daft smile on his face. John nearly laughed, but pulled him into a hungry
kiss instead.
He slid a hand between them, shoving down their pants to free their cocks. When
his fingers wrapped around Sherlock, his friend shot up to his tip toes for a moment
before settling back on the ground.
“A little warning would have been - ooh that’s good. That’s very good,” Sherlock
moaned, leaning against the sink so he didn’t slide to the floor.
“Yes, I know it’s good, feel free to return the favor,” John groaned, nudging his prick
against Sherlock.
“Right, sorry,” Sherlock replied, finally looking down between them. His cock was
certainly paler than John’s, but every time John pulled the foreskin back, he could
see how red the tip was.
Sherlock was more tentative as he reached for John, watching his fingers wrap
around the hard flesh and looking at John’s face when he heard his tight gasp.
“This is rather nice, isn’t it?” Sherlock grinned, matching what John was doing with
his hand, the two of them building a rhythm.
John’s head was slightly back and he was grinning. “You should have taken on a
mistress sooner.” A moment later, John’s head snapped forward and his hand
stopped moving. “If you ever refer to me as your mistress to anyone, not only
will I kill you, but this will all end.”
“Yes, fine, get back to it would you? I was just getting close,” Sherlock whined,
thrusting into his hand.
John rolled his eyes, and then swatted Sherlock’s hand away. “Lean back and
relax,” he ordered, wrapping his fingers around both of their cocks and beginning to
stroke, his hips rocking against Sherlock.
“Oh god -" Sherlock moaned, bracing his hands on the sink behind him, his hips
thrusting into John’s hand and his face a mask of pleasure.
John couldn’t look away from Sherlock, studying the new expressions and
cataloguing all of the soft moans and gasps. Yes, he could definitely be Sherlock’s
mistress if he could cause that face on a regular basis.
“John - John I’m -”
“Come for me, Sherlock,” John whispered, tightening his grip as his hand stroked
upward, circling the heads of their cocks. With the down stroke, Sherlock was
coming, hot spurts of semen hitting John’s stomach and covering his hand.
“Yes,” John hissed, balls tightening as his orgasm hit, his jizz mixing with Sherlock’s
on his hand. He had the worst desire to clean his hand with his tongue, but he
wasn’t sure Sherlock was ready to see that quite yet.
Instead, he grabbed the nearest tea towel and cleaned himself up a bit, washing his
hands in the sink.
“Alright, Sherlock?” he asked, looking sideways at Sherlock, who was still braced
against the counter, looking shell-shocked. “Sherlock?”
“What?” Sherlock finally looked at him, blinking, a silly smile appearing.
“Alright?”
“Brilliant, actually. My mind is, well, I can’t even explain how fast my mind is
going. This is better than a nicotine patch. Stay here, I need to go think about - OH!
How could I be so stupid! It’s was in the lipstick! How could I be so thick! Get
dressed, we have to go talk to Lestrade,” he said, stalking from the room in search of
clothing.
John watched him go then laughed, nearly bent over with how funny he found the
whole situation. He’d found a substitute for all the nicotine and those other drugs
that he and Sherlock both pretended weren’t in the house.
Sherlock’s head peeked around the door frame. “John, get dressed! Didn’t you hear
me? The lipstick!” He pulled up short. “Why are you laughing?”
The question merely made John laugh harder. Poor Sherlock, so brilliant, but oh so
clueless about so many things.
“Coming,” he finally managed to get out, pushing past Sherlock to get up to his room,
giggling all the way.