[Sherlock watches John for a long moment, hips lips quirking into a slight smile when his hand finds his. He felt that strange sensation in his chest again, a sort of tingling warmth at the knowledge that John would be alright with the rest of the world knowing about them.
He gives a nod of understanding when John explains it. Sherlock really didn't care what anyone thought, but that didn't stop him from wanting to understand exactly what they were before showing anyone else.][He replies, smirking when John chuckles. His expression is decidedly approving when John's protective instinct kicks in.]
I'm sure no one will blame you for that. [He was just fine with ignoring all of her insults, but he certainly wouldn't argue if John finally tried to teach her a lesson. It was comforting to know that John was there for him in every capacity, even though he had always considered himself an independent creature.
He hailed them a cab with his free hand, refusing to let go of John. His impatience was almost tangible, and it was only John's hand in his that kept him from ranting and raving about why they weren't home yet.]
Probably wouldn't look good on my record, going around punching police officers like that, though.
[ John wouldn't have blamed Sherlock for ranting and raving. He's rather impatient himself, although he's a bit less likely to show off said impatience. As it is, it seems to take too long for a cab to finally stop, even if it was probably only a minute or two. Once it does, he almost stubbornly does not release the younger man's hand, crawling into the back seat behind him. After the cabbie is informed of their destination, he finally settles back, forcing himself to let out a slow breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. Glancing at Sherlock, he smiles crookedly, almost feeling sheepish and a bit shy in his anxiety to return to their flat. As much as he wants to snog the other man right there and then, he instead controls himself, deciding instead to let the anticipation keep building. What he does do, however, is take Sherlock's hand and bring it up to his lips to kiss his knuckles gently - tenderly, while holding his gaze, and the unspoken connection between them. He holds that hand in both of his own in his lap, then, running his fingers over the other's hand, caressing, and stroking idle little patterns. Calm and content as he might appear outwardly, inwardly, John is willing the cabbie to go faster, and for there not to be any traffic. ]
[Sherlock would swear up and down that everyone and everything in London was out to make this trip back to the flat as agonizingly long as possible. He climbs into the cab, sighing irritably to himself as he calculated in his head that the very soonest they could be home was fifteen minutes, which may as well have been years for how far off it seemed.
He tapped the fingers of his free hand impatiently on his knee as they rode, only pausing when he looked at John and relaxed a bit when he saw his smile. He watched, transfixed, as John picked up his hand and kissed his fingers, smiling softly at the calming gesture. John managed to relax him quite easily, his fingers stilling as he enjoyed the attention. He leans over to rest his head against John's, counting down the minutes until they were home.
When they finally arrived, he tossed some money at the cabbie and all but dragged John up the stairs, feeling like he only took his first real breath as soon as he pressed their door closed.]
[ John relaxed against Sherlock in the cab, his smile softening even though inwardly, he was still buzzing with anticipation. He was still surprised and humbled to know this impossible, lovely, brilliant man would become so emotionally invested in an ordinary man like him, would even want him... it wasn't something he could put into words. Then again, he probably was the more romantic of the two.
Once they had arrived, he couldn't help but chuckle in amused surprise as he found himself practically dragged up the stairs and into their flat. Of course, he was just as excited that it would finally be happening, and hopefully with no further interruptions. Once they were inside, and the door was closed... did he finally just stop and take in the other man's appearance. Releasing his hand, he stepped back and paused to enjoy that brief, quiet moment, where it was just the two of them. The calm before the storm, as it were. But then, his smile broke out into a full grin, and he couldn't hold back any longer. With that, John closed the distance between them, and reaching up to take Sherlock's face in his hands, pulled him down and leaned up to kiss him. It was a slow, hungry kiss, growing in heat and passion and so very, very good. ]
[Sherlock would certainly tell John he was being ridiculous if he ever were to think that he somehow wasn't worthy of his attention. John may not be perfect, but then Sherlock didn't really believe perfection existed. He did believe that John was perfect for him, though. He made him better, and called him brilliant when others called him a freak. That alone made all the difference for someone so used to being written off and insulted at every turn just because he was a bit (read: extremely) eccentric.
He had waited far too long for this without even knowing it until now. He always hoped someone would understand him like John did, though he certainly never had expected it. He would have suggested this far sooner had he known just how much John would come to mean to him.
He relaxed a bit from the frenetic pace he used getting up to the flat once they were there, leaning against the door and watching as John watched him. He watched as John broke into a smile and felt his heart stutter in his chest when John moved to meet him. It felt like he was drawn into the kiss like some unseen force was tugging him into it. He never would have guessed that kissing John Watson would feel so natural. He pressed deeper into the kiss, hurridly shedding his coat and scarf to toss them over the couch.
Bedroom? [he asked breathily against his lips, sure that more room would benefit this endeavor quite a bit.]
[ To put it simply, they just functioned better together - two men, so very different who understood and complemented each other. It helped, of course, that they were clearly attracted to each other on the physical level as well. Meanwhile, John's head was already starting to swim and his thoughts were becoming fuzzy as he kissed Sherlock so hungrily. When the other man's one, questioning word registered in his mind, however, his own heart skipped a beat or two. ]
Yeah, alright. [ He returned just as breathily, shucking out of his own coat and tossing it aside, not caring much where it would fall. Honestly, no, he didn't think they were going too fast. If anything, it had taken them centuries to get to this point - everything had led up to this. Breaking the kiss, he quickly snatched up Sherlock's hand and tugged him towards his room. John's room was probably cleaner - being former military and all, it was bred into him to keep a spotless bed and all - but it was upstairs, and Sherlock's room was just closer. Once there, he turned back to the younger man, knowing there were so many different ways this could go... but first, he just wanted there to be more skin. Right now, there was too much clothing between them. Pressing a quick kiss to the long, elegant neck, his slightly trembling fingers began working the buttons of Sherlock's shirt. Once unbuttoned, he pushed the shirt off that lean frame. Without thinking, his hands fell to fumble a bit with unbuckling his trousers next. ]
[John meant a great deal to Sherlock, that much was certain, though he had no idea just how much. It got to the point before all this that Sherlock couldn't stand whenever John would go to Sarah's simply because he wasn't there with him. His thoughts would quickly spiral out of control at that point, and had him thinking of if John ever ended up getting married and moving out. Just the thought of it unsettled him. What would he do when someone so perfectly there as John was suddenly gone? He couldn't handle the idea, which led him to acting strange for days before finally entertaining the thought that maybe he could replace Sarah. He didn't expect it to work, but John was remarkably obliging to the idea.
He reluctantly let John break the kiss to lead him into the bedroom, anticipation welling up in his chest at the knowledge that they were going through with this. He didn't care what happened, he was not going to let this be interrupted a second time. He glanced over John, watching every move and unable to wait for the opportunity to study him without those pesky clothes in the way. John apparently had the same idea, and Sherlock just watched as John moved to kiss his neck and remove his shirt. He felt the tremble in his hands as he unbuttoned his shirt, so he moved his own up over John's hands and over his arms to still him, squeezing his arms in a calming gesture. As far as he was concerned, they had all the time in the world.
That didn't mean he wasn't impatient as well, of course, moving his fingers to start getting John out of his shirt as well. He pushed it off his shoulders and just dragged his hands over his torso appreciatively for a moment before slipping his fingers just underneath the waistband of his trousers to tug him in against him, growling softly at the bit of friction. He realized it had been far too long -nearly forty-five seconds- since their last kiss, so he kissed him again as they worked at getting each other's trousers off.]
So I've decided I have two favorite Sherlocks and you, m'dear, are one of them. <3mightbebloggingNovember 24 2011, 02:16:10 UTC
[ This thing between them had been growing almost since day one. Of course, he hadn't known what it was then. John had been bound and determined to be attracted to women, which he was, but none, even the pleasant Sarah had ever affected him as much as Sherlock had - both physically and mentally. To have crossed the boundaries into this physical part of their developing relationship was indescribable in how excitingly frightening and wonderful it was. Frightening, perhaps, because he felt like he could hardly control himself, control this... but he wasn't looking back. The time for looking back had been ages ago, when he'd killed a man for the detective, or probably when he'd decided this was the life for him - at 221B Baker Street, with the eccentric, impossibly insufferable Sherlock Holmes.
When Sherlock's steadier hands moved over his and then squeezed his arms, John met his gaze and smiled crookedly. The nerves were still there, yes, but it wasn't necessarily a bad thing. But he gave the slightest nod of agreement, of gratitude, in that they had plenty of time... and this was what they really needed. However things went... it would all be fine. Better than fine, he hoped. Those comforting fingers moved to his chest, leaving behind fiery trails in their wake. He was certain in that moment that he wanted those fingers all over his body, touching everywhere, and even then, that wouldn't be enough. When he was tugged in closer, he went willingly, and a low groan escaped his lips at that pleasant bit of friction. He eagerly accepted that kiss, again memorizing the surprisingly soft feel of Sherlock's heart-shaped lips, and pressing his tongue forward to taste him again, and seek out his tongue. It was so very easy to get lost in just a kiss, a simple human touch that was often taken for-granted in intimate settings like these.
When their trouser's were finally undone, John broke away from the kiss with a soft grunt, deciding removing the rest of his own clothing might be easier. He practically kicked out of his shoes, then, without putting another hesitating thought into it, he tugged his trousers and briefs down, and then off. They, too, were tossed haphazardly aside. If he'd stopped to think about it, he might have become even more nervous at the thought of being completely naked and open to scrutiny by the consulting detective who didn't miss anything. But the clothes were off, and he was naked, his hardened arousal there and aware and that was that. It helped that he was just as eager to see Sherlock as vulnerable as he felt, too, and admire the rest of he body that went with his otherworldly face and lovely torso. As it was, his heart still pounded with adrenaline, anticipation, and nerves. ]
Omggg <333 You're one of my favorite Johns too! I'm going to cuddle the hell out of you~shutupimageniusNovember 24 2011, 03:32:29 UTC
[Whatever it was that was constantly bringing them closer and closer together, Sherlock was certainly grateful for it. He never felt the urge to want to be close with people before, so it was almost as if it had all been saved up for John to the point where he wanted no space between them. No lines, no boundaries, no walls. It was incredible and terrifying at the same time for someone who always kept everyone at a distance until now. He wanted to study John completely, and this was certainly offering him that opportunity.
He watched as John seemed to draw comfort from his touch, extremely interested in that completely new phenomenon. He was the last person anyone would think of to help settle their nerves, but somehow he managed it for John almost effortlessly. He didn't even need words for it. His lips quirked into a slight smile when John looked up at him with that grin, the affection he felt for him staggering in its intensity. Was that love, or was there even a word for what he felt for John? Whatever it was, he was enjoying it, and somehow didn't want to question it just yet. Instead, he concentrated on cataloging everything, from the way John groaned at that bit of friction to the way he kissed and eased his tongue into his mouth.
He was about to protest when John broke the kiss, being that he wasn't done studying the feel and experimenting with technique. He found himself not wanting to argue when he realized John was effectively ridding himself of the rest of his clothing. He couldn't tear his gaze away if he tried as John finished disrobing, leaving Sherlock unashamedly staring at him. A pang of arousal hit him at the fact that John was this turned on just from kissing him, having hoped he wouldn't be the only one afflicted.
He wanted to reach out and touch John everywhere, though he realized after a moment that he should probably get into a similar state of undress. He was uncharacteristically nervous about this, knowing already that John found him attractive, but still unsure because he'd never been in this situation before where he would allow someone to see him completely open and exposed like this. This was John, though, he reminded himself. John knew more about him than anyone and he never turned away, even when faced with some of his darker moods.
He finally psyched himself up enough after kicking his shoes off to remove the rest of his clothing in one fluid motion. He wasn't quite sure what to do at first, and was left just looking at John for a long moment. He then finally reached out to pick up John's hand, threading their fingers together because he knew that would aid in relaxing them both. He smiled when he felt his own nerves melt away, hoping to see the same reaction in John.]
D'aww! We so awesome. :DmightbebloggingNovember 24 2011, 04:08:07 UTC
[ It was quite possible John forgot how to breathe for a moment or two. He didn't expect Sherlock to be anything but absolutely gorgeous, of course, but thinking that, and seeing it for himself were two very different things. So he was also unabashedly staring, drinking in that lean, pale form, all lanky limbs and legs that were also elegant and graceful and, yes, still quite masculine. It made him less self-conscious about his own flawed form, but those familiar fingers entwining themselves with his own and that smile on the other man's face was what really did it. He did relax, probably visibly, returning the smile easily, and reached out his free hand to gently touch the younger man's bare hip, thumb stroking. It was the first of many touches he hoped to have that night. ]
You're perfect.
[ John spoke just above a whisper, brow raised on his softened expression. Cliche or not, it was clear that he meant it, knowing that Sherlock was made more perfect in his imperfections. John had not a doubt in his mind that he was the most fascinating person he would ever meet. And yes, he was very much aroused. It had been some time since he'd been intimate with someone, but there really was so much about Sherlock that turned him on, from his lips, to his mellifluous, deep voice, and just his elegant face in general. And with that, he backed towards the bed, tugging Sherlock along with him. He got on first, laying on his side, facing him of course, until it might be decided who was top or bottom. In the heat of the moments to come, he figured it would come naturally - it wasn't important. Once the other joined him, he simply leaned forward and kissed him, taking Sherlock's free hand and laying it on his chest, welcoming and inviting any and all touch. He could only imagine the consulting detective would want to examine every inch of bare skin, knowing him and how he was. There was also the very real fact that John wanted to do the exact same to him. ]
[Sherlock felt decidedly better when John reacted in the same way he had with the barely restrained desire to study and touch and feel as much as possible. He was glad he regained himself enough to be able to take John's hand, rewarded with the way he relaxed and smiled again. They would get through this together, just like always.
He kept a hold of John's hand as he mirrored the hand John placed on his hip, gently squeezing and idly stroking his hip in turn. The words he heard then floored him. So much so that he lost his vernacular, as was wont to happen in situations where he felt a new emotion he couldn't quite place yet.
He didn't know what to say, so he kissed him again and hoped his feelings were at least somewhat conveyed by that. He would get better at this romanticism shtick, but he was a bit out of sorts at the moment on adrenaline and feeling so much where he hadn't before.
He followed John back to the bed without question, settling in to face him. He was very aware of his hands and that they should be doing something, placing one back on John's hip and the other on his shoulder. He was inwardly excited at the signs that John was going to kiss him, leaning in eagerly and pleased in the knowledge that he knew how to do this part. He was getting there, he hoped. He let John move his hand, glad that he did so he could jump right in to studying him. It spoke to how well they knew each other that John would get him going on that because he knew that's what he wanted to start with.
He let his hands start wandering a bit, the one on his hip stroking up his side and the other trailing over his chest to trace over bones and muscle groups and anything else of interest. He used the hand on John's hip to tug himself closer, feeling every bit of his pectorals and brushing over his nipples more than once. He pressed the kiss a bit deeper, a wordless gesture to show John just how much he was enjoying this.]
[ John didn't expect Sherlock to be perfect at this, or to know exactly what to say or do at the right moment. To be perfectly honest, there wasn't a right or wrong time, and he was hardly the expert in this situation, anyway. Yes, perhaps he'd had more experience in intimacy, but this was different. This was Sherlock Holmes, who he'd come to care for more than he could probably say in words - and even if he tried right now, he'd just embarrass them both, anyway. It was more a time for feeling their way through. Actions were louder than words could ever be.
John tilted his head into the kiss, deepening it almost lazily, and exploring the other's mouth. He was very encouraged that Sherlock seemed to be enjoying this just as much as he was, adding to the heated warmth that already filled him so pleasurably. Meanwhile, those hands moving over his bare skin left behind fiery trails in their wake. He moaned quietly, muffled against those lips, when Sherlock's fingers brushed over his nipples - clearly an erogenous area for him, and they were already quite hard as well. He moved his own hand down from the younger man's shoulder, trailing down his waist around to his back, fingertips idly playing over the vertebrae there. Quite willingly he moved closer as well, moving a leg to drape it over Sherlock's, aiding in bringing their bodies together. Slowly, he moved his hand even lower, curving it around the other's tight arse, and even letting his fingernails drag lightly over the skin there. A gasp escaped his lips when their quite hard erections brushed, sending a surprising jolt of pleasure through him. He did his best to imitate this movement, hooking his leg around Sherlock's and grinding their hips together slowly. His other hand, which had been lying on the detective's chest, simply feeling his heartbeat there, began moving as well. He brushed his fingertips over Sherlock's nipples, even pinching on lightly to see if the other man approved.
John was cautious with his movements, not wanting to push Sherlock too far it the sensations were too much. Honestly, he was enjoying giving pleasure as much, if not more, than receiving it right now. With all the deep emotion that was welling within him for this lovely man, he wanted him to be happy, and really enjoy what he hoped would only be the first of many similar moments between them. But being the first, he wanted it to be meaningful. ]
[Sherlock was certainly glad that this situation would be difficult for even him to screw up, which was good because he was rubbish at real human interaction (as good as he was at mimicking it now and then). John was patient, though. If he got overwhelmed or froze up, John would talk him through, just like always.
He couldn't help feeling like he was starting to get the hang of this anyway as he just melted into the slow and relaxing kiss. He never imagined that this could be the thing beyond drugs that could quiet his brain, but it certainly was, and he was grateful for the respite. He really was enjoying this far more than he ever expected, and he was glad that John seemed to be getting as much out of this as he was.
He found he quite liked the feeling of John's moans muffled against his lips, wanting to feel that again and again. He was also enjoying John's hand on him, finding himself moving closer almost without realizing it until John wrapped his leg around him. He hummed approvingly as John's fingers found his arse, gasping softly in an echo of John's as their groins brushed against each other, the pleasure from it surprising in its intensity. His hand moved to grip at John's hip, encouraging the motion a second time with a bit of grinding of his own.
He felt John's hand start moving again, groaning against his lips at the attention paid to his nipples, squeezing his hip and grinding against him in resounding approbation. Sherlock's happiness was something John definitely didn't have to worry about at this point, because he was enjoying every moment more than he could have imagined. Meaning wasn't an issue either, because it meant everything to him to be able to finally have someone to share himself like this with, as much as he never thought he needed it before. Now, though, he knew he would crave this all day every day, and he hoped John would be willing to oblige him on that.]
[ For someone who thought he wasn't very good at human interaction, Sherlock was doing quite well. Not that John ever thought the man inhuman. He was quite aware of himself, his intelligent thought process, and the unfortunate fact that everyone else were idiots, of course, but he was still human. John was more than happy to help him explore this, just as they'd already developed the close bond of friendship since they'd moved in together. Touch and intimacy really felt like the next natural steps to take, when words failed them in describing just how much they meant to each other.
It was very encouraging to feel the hums or other sounds of approval from Sherlock, as well as his own wandering hands. The grinding of their hips together was doing glorious things to his pleasure senses, making him realize again that it had been sometime since he'd been this intimate with someone. He'd rather it last longer than it might were he just a hormone-driven teenager, unable to hold back. But still, it was comforting knowing that this would be only the first of hopefully many times they would get to try this. It didn't have to be perfect now, and he certainly wouldn't mind doing this again and again.
As much as he was enjoying kissing, something that had already become one of many addictions when it came to Sherlock, John wanted to explore other places with his mouth. He was eager to introduce new sensations to his partner, as well. So he moved his lips to that jawline and down his neck, making his way lower to that elegant collarbone. Sucking a bit along the way, he grazed his teeth along his collarbone. His hand had moved around from the detective's backside, moving around so his thumb traced lazy circles on the inside of his thigh. That mouth continued to move down, paying more attention to his nipples - sucking them, licking them, even introducing the gentle pressure of teeth into the equation. All the while, he was aware of and gauging Sherlock's reactions, not wanting to do something the other man didn't seem to enjoy. ]
What are you thinking, Sherlock? [ He murmured the words softly against the other's warm skin, although not demanding, merely curious. By no means did John want to press the other man into speaking merely for the sake of words, but he couldn't help but wonder. Actions spoke louder than words, so it was rather obvious that they were both enjoying this, and yet he still couldn't help but want to make sure it was going alright, at a good pace, or if something should be altered. ]
[Sherlock was mostly relying on John's direction and mirroring his actions that worked oh so well on himself. He had always thought that tactile stimulation was pointless and/or awkward, but John made it so that it was anything but. Now that his apparent appetite for touching John everywhere had been whetted, he was throwing himself headlong into this, currently tasking himself with becoming a master of kissing.
It was difficult to concentrate completely on just snogging when there were so many other sensations warring for his attention. Every point of contact of their bodies was worth noting, in fact, and the combination of their hips grinding together, of John's lips on his and his hands all over him was making his head swim with how perfect it all was.
He allowed John to break the kiss, huffing quick breaths of pleasure as John started working him over with his mouth. One hand squeezed at John's arm at every shiver elicited by his kisses as the other sat at the nape of John's neck, just resting there and absently threading through his short hair. He got decidedly vocal when John started to suck like that and even bring his teeth into the mix, moaning at the feeling as his brain seemed to skip like an old CD player whenever John nipped or sucked at his skin. He could hardly keep his eyes from rolling back into his head as John's lips found and subsequently latched onto his nipples, sending bolts of electric sensation up his spine at every little motion of his lips. He was still moaning at this point, and almost didn't realize it until he felt more than heard John speak against his skin. He pried his eyes open only to blink them rapidly, slack-jawed and too lost to even remember his own name for a moment.]
Nothing. [He replied, and though it may sound like a cop-out, it was genuinely something that had never happened before beyond the use of drugs. It was worth noting that right now, nothing at all was on Sherlock's mind beyond John and all the physical sensations he offered.]
Nothing at all beyond here and now. Remarkable. [He breathed, still reeling from the knowledge that John Watson had managed to shut his brain up. He nudged his face up for a kiss in reward for accomplishing that feat. He gave him a long, considering look after breaking the kiss.]
You are-...everything you're doing, please, feel free to keep doing all of that. [He said, realizing he should affirm that yes yes bloody well yes he was loving everything John was doing.] Is there something I should be doing? [He asked, wanting John to be just as happy as he was.]
Sorry for late tags!! <33mightbebloggingNovember 27 2011, 01:27:36 UTC
[ Every one of Sherlock's reaction did something for John, and he enjoyed each - from the vibration coming from those lovely moans, to the way his body shuddered beneath his mouth. It was incredible, to think he could do this to Sherlock Holmes. Perhaps the man had been a bit more intimacy deprived than he'd let on. John supposed it was something he'd shut off, focusing his energies into other things - mainly, the cases. But now he seemed to crave the touch just as much as the good doctor enjoyed giving it.
When Sherlock spoke, he moved his head up to eagerly meet that kiss, smiling crookedly against those lips. He searched the other's vivid, otherworldly gaze... and he was quite certain he forgot how to breathe, speak, or do much of anything else. He was humbled and excited and it sent a pleasurable shock through his body just to hear that affirmation about how good this really was for him. A quiet chuckle escaped his lips - he couldn't help it, and he shook his head fondly, considering the younger man thoughtfully. ]
Who would have thought this would be something that would shut off that busy mind of yours? [ John's smile widened a bit, and he kissed Sherlock again, briefly, tenderly. His brow rose lightly, and again he was endeared to the man, asking what it was he should be doing. ]
Just do... whatever you want, love. Would you believe your voice alone turns me on? [ He bit his lower lip sheepishly against that crooked, dryly amused grin. ] There's no right or wrong thing for you to be doing, unless it doesn't feel good, I suppose. Don't think we'll be having that problem, though.
Just... let me know if - if any of this is going a bit too fast for you, alright? Because, I want to do this, I've been wanting to touch you like this for a very long time now, you know, but more importantly... I'd rather you liked it. [ His expression softened, letting his fingers brush against Sherlock's lean chest. His hand trailed downwards, and he shifted until he could reach just between Sherlock's legs, brushing his erection lightly at first... before slowly wrapping his hand around the man's erection. All the while he watched that lovely face, gauging his reactions, but also wanting to see the pleasure on his expression if he liked it, as he began stroking. ]
He gives a nod of understanding when John explains it. Sherlock really didn't care what anyone thought, but that didn't stop him from wanting to understand exactly what they were before showing anyone else.][He replies, smirking when John chuckles. His expression is decidedly approving when John's protective instinct kicks in.]
I'm sure no one will blame you for that. [He was just fine with ignoring all of her insults, but he certainly wouldn't argue if John finally tried to teach her a lesson. It was comforting to know that John was there for him in every capacity, even though he had always considered himself an independent creature.
He hailed them a cab with his free hand, refusing to let go of John. His impatience was almost tangible, and it was only John's hand in his that kept him from ranting and raving about why they weren't home yet.]
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[ John wouldn't have blamed Sherlock for ranting and raving. He's rather impatient himself, although he's a bit less likely to show off said impatience. As it is, it seems to take too long for a cab to finally stop, even if it was probably only a minute or two. Once it does, he almost stubbornly does not release the younger man's hand, crawling into the back seat behind him. After the cabbie is informed of their destination, he finally settles back, forcing himself to let out a slow breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. Glancing at Sherlock, he smiles crookedly, almost feeling sheepish and a bit shy in his anxiety to return to their flat. As much as he wants to snog the other man right there and then, he instead controls himself, deciding instead to let the anticipation keep building. What he does do, however, is take Sherlock's hand and bring it up to his lips to kiss his knuckles gently - tenderly, while holding his gaze, and the unspoken connection between them. He holds that hand in both of his own in his lap, then, running his fingers over the other's hand, caressing, and stroking idle little patterns. Calm and content as he might appear outwardly, inwardly, John is willing the cabbie to go faster, and for there not to be any traffic. ]
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He tapped the fingers of his free hand impatiently on his knee as they rode, only pausing when he looked at John and relaxed a bit when he saw his smile. He watched, transfixed, as John picked up his hand and kissed his fingers, smiling softly at the calming gesture. John managed to relax him quite easily, his fingers stilling as he enjoyed the attention. He leans over to rest his head against John's, counting down the minutes until they were home.
When they finally arrived, he tossed some money at the cabbie and all but dragged John up the stairs, feeling like he only took his first real breath as soon as he pressed their door closed.]
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Once they had arrived, he couldn't help but chuckle in amused surprise as he found himself practically dragged up the stairs and into their flat. Of course, he was just as excited that it would finally be happening, and hopefully with no further interruptions. Once they were inside, and the door was closed... did he finally just stop and take in the other man's appearance. Releasing his hand, he stepped back and paused to enjoy that brief, quiet moment, where it was just the two of them. The calm before the storm, as it were. But then, his smile broke out into a full grin, and he couldn't hold back any longer. With that, John closed the distance between them, and reaching up to take Sherlock's face in his hands, pulled him down and leaned up to kiss him. It was a slow, hungry kiss, growing in heat and passion and so very, very good. ]
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He had waited far too long for this without even knowing it until now. He always hoped someone would understand him like John did, though he certainly never had expected it. He would have suggested this far sooner had he known just how much John would come to mean to him.
He relaxed a bit from the frenetic pace he used getting up to the flat once they were there, leaning against the door and watching as John watched him. He watched as John broke into a smile and felt his heart stutter in his chest when John moved to meet him. It felt like he was drawn into the kiss like some unseen force was tugging him into it. He never would have guessed that kissing John Watson would feel so natural. He pressed deeper into the kiss, hurridly shedding his coat and scarf to toss them over the couch.
Bedroom? [he asked breathily against his lips, sure that more room would benefit this endeavor quite a bit.]
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Yeah, alright. [ He returned just as breathily, shucking out of his own coat and tossing it aside, not caring much where it would fall. Honestly, no, he didn't think they were going too fast. If anything, it had taken them centuries to get to this point - everything had led up to this. Breaking the kiss, he quickly snatched up Sherlock's hand and tugged him towards his room. John's room was probably cleaner - being former military and all, it was bred into him to keep a spotless bed and all - but it was upstairs, and Sherlock's room was just closer. Once there, he turned back to the younger man, knowing there were so many different ways this could go... but first, he just wanted there to be more skin. Right now, there was too much clothing between them. Pressing a quick kiss to the long, elegant neck, his slightly trembling fingers began working the buttons of Sherlock's shirt. Once unbuttoned, he pushed the shirt off that lean frame. Without thinking, his hands fell to fumble a bit with unbuckling his trousers next. ]
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He reluctantly let John break the kiss to lead him into the bedroom, anticipation welling up in his chest at the knowledge that they were going through with this. He didn't care what happened, he was not going to let this be interrupted a second time. He glanced over John, watching every move and unable to wait for the opportunity to study him without those pesky clothes in the way. John apparently had the same idea, and Sherlock just watched as John moved to kiss his neck and remove his shirt. He felt the tremble in his hands as he unbuttoned his shirt, so he moved his own up over John's hands and over his arms to still him, squeezing his arms in a calming gesture. As far as he was concerned, they had all the time in the world.
That didn't mean he wasn't impatient as well, of course, moving his fingers to start getting John out of his shirt as well. He pushed it off his shoulders and just dragged his hands over his torso appreciatively for a moment before slipping his fingers just underneath the waistband of his trousers to tug him in against him, growling softly at the bit of friction. He realized it had been far too long -nearly forty-five seconds- since their last kiss, so he kissed him again as they worked at getting each other's trousers off.]
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When Sherlock's steadier hands moved over his and then squeezed his arms, John met his gaze and smiled crookedly. The nerves were still there, yes, but it wasn't necessarily a bad thing. But he gave the slightest nod of agreement, of gratitude, in that they had plenty of time... and this was what they really needed. However things went... it would all be fine. Better than fine, he hoped. Those comforting fingers moved to his chest, leaving behind fiery trails in their wake. He was certain in that moment that he wanted those fingers all over his body, touching everywhere, and even then, that wouldn't be enough. When he was tugged in closer, he went willingly, and a low groan escaped his lips at that pleasant bit of friction. He eagerly accepted that kiss, again memorizing the surprisingly soft feel of Sherlock's heart-shaped lips, and pressing his tongue forward to taste him again, and seek out his tongue. It was so very easy to get lost in just a kiss, a simple human touch that was often taken for-granted in intimate settings like these.
When their trouser's were finally undone, John broke away from the kiss with a soft grunt, deciding removing the rest of his own clothing might be easier. He practically kicked out of his shoes, then, without putting another hesitating thought into it, he tugged his trousers and briefs down, and then off. They, too, were tossed haphazardly aside. If he'd stopped to think about it, he might have become even more nervous at the thought of being completely naked and open to scrutiny by the consulting detective who didn't miss anything. But the clothes were off, and he was naked, his hardened arousal there and aware and that was that. It helped that he was just as eager to see Sherlock as vulnerable as he felt, too, and admire the rest of he body that went with his otherworldly face and lovely torso. As it was, his heart still pounded with adrenaline, anticipation, and nerves. ]
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He watched as John seemed to draw comfort from his touch, extremely interested in that completely new phenomenon. He was the last person anyone would think of to help settle their nerves, but somehow he managed it for John almost effortlessly. He didn't even need words for it. His lips quirked into a slight smile when John looked up at him with that grin, the affection he felt for him staggering in its intensity. Was that love, or was there even a word for what he felt for John? Whatever it was, he was enjoying it, and somehow didn't want to question it just yet. Instead, he concentrated on cataloging everything, from the way John groaned at that bit of friction to the way he kissed and eased his tongue into his mouth.
He was about to protest when John broke the kiss, being that he wasn't done studying the feel and experimenting with technique. He found himself not wanting to argue when he realized John was effectively ridding himself of the rest of his clothing. He couldn't tear his gaze away if he tried as John finished disrobing, leaving Sherlock unashamedly staring at him. A pang of arousal hit him at the fact that John was this turned on just from kissing him, having hoped he wouldn't be the only one afflicted.
He wanted to reach out and touch John everywhere, though he realized after a moment that he should probably get into a similar state of undress. He was uncharacteristically nervous about this, knowing already that John found him attractive, but still unsure because he'd never been in this situation before where he would allow someone to see him completely open and exposed like this. This was John, though, he reminded himself. John knew more about him than anyone and he never turned away, even when faced with some of his darker moods.
He finally psyched himself up enough after kicking his shoes off to remove the rest of his clothing in one fluid motion. He wasn't quite sure what to do at first, and was left just looking at John for a long moment. He then finally reached out to pick up John's hand, threading their fingers together because he knew that would aid in relaxing them both. He smiled when he felt his own nerves melt away, hoping to see the same reaction in John.]
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You're perfect.
[ John spoke just above a whisper, brow raised on his softened expression. Cliche or not, it was clear that he meant it, knowing that Sherlock was made more perfect in his imperfections. John had not a doubt in his mind that he was the most fascinating person he would ever meet. And yes, he was very much aroused. It had been some time since he'd been intimate with someone, but there really was so much about Sherlock that turned him on, from his lips, to his mellifluous, deep voice, and just his elegant face in general. And with that, he backed towards the bed, tugging Sherlock along with him. He got on first, laying on his side, facing him of course, until it might be decided who was top or bottom. In the heat of the moments to come, he figured it would come naturally - it wasn't important. Once the other joined him, he simply leaned forward and kissed him, taking Sherlock's free hand and laying it on his chest, welcoming and inviting any and all touch. He could only imagine the consulting detective would want to examine every inch of bare skin, knowing him and how he was. There was also the very real fact that John wanted to do the exact same to him. ]
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He kept a hold of John's hand as he mirrored the hand John placed on his hip, gently squeezing and idly stroking his hip in turn. The words he heard then floored him. So much so that he lost his vernacular, as was wont to happen in situations where he felt a new emotion he couldn't quite place yet.
He didn't know what to say, so he kissed him again and hoped his feelings were at least somewhat conveyed by that. He would get better at this romanticism shtick, but he was a bit out of sorts at the moment on adrenaline and feeling so much where he hadn't before.
He followed John back to the bed without question, settling in to face him. He was very aware of his hands and that they should be doing something, placing one back on John's hip and the other on his shoulder. He was inwardly excited at the signs that John was going to kiss him, leaning in eagerly and pleased in the knowledge that he knew how to do this part. He was getting there, he hoped. He let John move his hand, glad that he did so he could jump right in to studying him. It spoke to how well they knew each other that John would get him going on that because he knew that's what he wanted to start with.
He let his hands start wandering a bit, the one on his hip stroking up his side and the other trailing over his chest to trace over bones and muscle groups and anything else of interest. He used the hand on John's hip to tug himself closer, feeling every bit of his pectorals and brushing over his nipples more than once. He pressed the kiss a bit deeper, a wordless gesture to show John just how much he was enjoying this.]
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John tilted his head into the kiss, deepening it almost lazily, and exploring the other's mouth. He was very encouraged that Sherlock seemed to be enjoying this just as much as he was, adding to the heated warmth that already filled him so pleasurably. Meanwhile, those hands moving over his bare skin left behind fiery trails in their wake. He moaned quietly, muffled against those lips, when Sherlock's fingers brushed over his nipples - clearly an erogenous area for him, and they were already quite hard as well. He moved his own hand down from the younger man's shoulder, trailing down his waist around to his back, fingertips idly playing over the vertebrae there. Quite willingly he moved closer as well, moving a leg to drape it over Sherlock's, aiding in bringing their bodies together. Slowly, he moved his hand even lower, curving it around the other's tight arse, and even letting his fingernails drag lightly over the skin there. A gasp escaped his lips when their quite hard erections brushed, sending a surprising jolt of pleasure through him. He did his best to imitate this movement, hooking his leg around Sherlock's and grinding their hips together slowly. His other hand, which had been lying on the detective's chest, simply feeling his heartbeat there, began moving as well. He brushed his fingertips over Sherlock's nipples, even pinching on lightly to see if the other man approved.
John was cautious with his movements, not wanting to push Sherlock too far it the sensations were too much. Honestly, he was enjoying giving pleasure as much, if not more, than receiving it right now. With all the deep emotion that was welling within him for this lovely man, he wanted him to be happy, and really enjoy what he hoped would only be the first of many similar moments between them. But being the first, he wanted it to be meaningful. ]
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He couldn't help feeling like he was starting to get the hang of this anyway as he just melted into the slow and relaxing kiss. He never imagined that this could be the thing beyond drugs that could quiet his brain, but it certainly was, and he was grateful for the respite. He really was enjoying this far more than he ever expected, and he was glad that John seemed to be getting as much out of this as he was.
He found he quite liked the feeling of John's moans muffled against his lips, wanting to feel that again and again. He was also enjoying John's hand on him, finding himself moving closer almost without realizing it until John wrapped his leg around him. He hummed approvingly as John's fingers found his arse, gasping softly in an echo of John's as their groins brushed against each other, the pleasure from it surprising in its intensity. His hand moved to grip at John's hip, encouraging the motion a second time with a bit of grinding of his own.
He felt John's hand start moving again, groaning against his lips at the attention paid to his nipples, squeezing his hip and grinding against him in resounding approbation. Sherlock's happiness was something John definitely didn't have to worry about at this point, because he was enjoying every moment more than he could have imagined. Meaning wasn't an issue either, because it meant everything to him to be able to finally have someone to share himself like this with, as much as he never thought he needed it before. Now, though, he knew he would crave this all day every day, and he hoped John would be willing to oblige him on that.]
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It was very encouraging to feel the hums or other sounds of approval from Sherlock, as well as his own wandering hands. The grinding of their hips together was doing glorious things to his pleasure senses, making him realize again that it had been sometime since he'd been this intimate with someone. He'd rather it last longer than it might were he just a hormone-driven teenager, unable to hold back. But still, it was comforting knowing that this would be only the first of hopefully many times they would get to try this. It didn't have to be perfect now, and he certainly wouldn't mind doing this again and again.
As much as he was enjoying kissing, something that had already become one of many addictions when it came to Sherlock, John wanted to explore other places with his mouth. He was eager to introduce new sensations to his partner, as well. So he moved his lips to that jawline and down his neck, making his way lower to that elegant collarbone. Sucking a bit along the way, he grazed his teeth along his collarbone. His hand had moved around from the detective's backside, moving around so his thumb traced lazy circles on the inside of his thigh. That mouth continued to move down, paying more attention to his nipples - sucking them, licking them, even introducing the gentle pressure of teeth into the equation. All the while, he was aware of and gauging Sherlock's reactions, not wanting to do something the other man didn't seem to enjoy. ]
What are you thinking, Sherlock? [ He murmured the words softly against the other's warm skin, although not demanding, merely curious. By no means did John want to press the other man into speaking merely for the sake of words, but he couldn't help but wonder. Actions spoke louder than words, so it was rather obvious that they were both enjoying this, and yet he still couldn't help but want to make sure it was going alright, at a good pace, or if something should be altered. ]
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It was difficult to concentrate completely on just snogging when there were so many other sensations warring for his attention. Every point of contact of their bodies was worth noting, in fact, and the combination of their hips grinding together, of John's lips on his and his hands all over him was making his head swim with how perfect it all was.
He allowed John to break the kiss, huffing quick breaths of pleasure as John started working him over with his mouth. One hand squeezed at John's arm at every shiver elicited by his kisses as the other sat at the nape of John's neck, just resting there and absently threading through his short hair. He got decidedly vocal when John started to suck like that and even bring his teeth into the mix, moaning at the feeling as his brain seemed to skip like an old CD player whenever John nipped or sucked at his skin. He could hardly keep his eyes from rolling back into his head as John's lips found and subsequently latched onto his nipples, sending bolts of electric sensation up his spine at every little motion of his lips. He was still moaning at this point, and almost didn't realize it until he felt more than heard John speak against his skin. He pried his eyes open only to blink them rapidly, slack-jawed and too lost to even remember his own name for a moment.]
Nothing. [He replied, and though it may sound like a cop-out, it was genuinely something that had never happened before beyond the use of drugs. It was worth noting that right now, nothing at all was on Sherlock's mind beyond John and all the physical sensations he offered.]
Nothing at all beyond here and now. Remarkable. [He breathed, still reeling from the knowledge that John Watson had managed to shut his brain up. He nudged his face up for a kiss in reward for accomplishing that feat. He gave him a long, considering look after breaking the kiss.]
You are-...everything you're doing, please, feel free to keep doing all of that. [He said, realizing he should affirm that yes yes bloody well yes he was loving everything John was doing.] Is there something I should be doing? [He asked, wanting John to be just as happy as he was.]
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When Sherlock spoke, he moved his head up to eagerly meet that kiss, smiling crookedly against those lips. He searched the other's vivid, otherworldly gaze... and he was quite certain he forgot how to breathe, speak, or do much of anything else. He was humbled and excited and it sent a pleasurable shock through his body just to hear that affirmation about how good this really was for him. A quiet chuckle escaped his lips - he couldn't help it, and he shook his head fondly, considering the younger man thoughtfully. ]
Who would have thought this would be something that would shut off that busy mind of yours? [ John's smile widened a bit, and he kissed Sherlock again, briefly, tenderly. His brow rose lightly, and again he was endeared to the man, asking what it was he should be doing. ]
Just do... whatever you want, love. Would you believe your voice alone turns me on? [ He bit his lower lip sheepishly against that crooked, dryly amused grin. ] There's no right or wrong thing for you to be doing, unless it doesn't feel good, I suppose. Don't think we'll be having that problem, though.
Just... let me know if - if any of this is going a bit too fast for you, alright? Because, I want to do this, I've been wanting to touch you like this for a very long time now, you know, but more importantly... I'd rather you liked it. [ His expression softened, letting his fingers brush against Sherlock's lean chest. His hand trailed downwards, and he shifted until he could reach just between Sherlock's legs, brushing his erection lightly at first... before slowly wrapping his hand around the man's erection. All the while he watched that lovely face, gauging his reactions, but also wanting to see the pleasure on his expression if he liked it, as he began stroking. ]
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