Second fill: Part 1
anonymous
September 21 2010, 20:48:11 UTC
So, there’s already an amazing fill in progress for this which I’m following avidly & dying to see finished! But the prompt just really appealed to me, & I found myself spending my evening scribbling this. Hope the OP & the first author Anon don’t mind
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Second fill: Part 2
anonymous
September 21 2010, 20:52:16 UTC
As bad luck would have it, he’s spotted five minutes after they enter the club. Sherlock has immediately disappeared to make the rounds and covertly examine the clientele and John is standing in a corner, his head bowed, trying to shrink into the general crowd and pass unnoticed. War-honed instinct makes him lift his head when he feels someone’s eyes on him, and he meets a familiar blue gaze. His stomach drops into his shoes as the man begins to thread his way through the crowd to get to him.
In his youth, he’d picked up all sorts of men. Most were just looking for a quick fuck with a handsome young thing (and with his blue eyes, ready smile and rugby player’s build, John Watson was very handsome indeed), a few had been genuinely nice blokes, and one or two had been real bastards. Tony (John couldn’t remember the man’s surname) had been one of the more dubious ones. Not really nasty, but still unpleasant enough to make John wish that he’d found any excuse rather than enter this club again
( ... )
Second fill: Part 3
anonymous
September 21 2010, 20:56:55 UTC
‘John?’ Sherlock asks slowly. ‘What did he-’
‘You know what he meant,’ John said miserably.
‘So does that mean you’re…’
‘Gay. Yes. Really very gay. An occasional bisexual at best. And this used to be one of my regular haunts.’ John straightens his spine, trying to gather what little dignity he has left about him. ‘And now if you’ll excuse me-’
‘Wait.’ Sherlock’s hand shoots out to close around his forearm, and John can see wheels spinning behind Sherlock’s narrow-eyed gaze. ‘And you slept with that…that…’ (John isn’t sure he can take any more horrified disgust about his love life and tries to delicately twist his arm out from Sherlock’s grasp prior to leaving) ‘that Neanderthal??’
John stops, cautiously reassured. ‘Well, yes, I did,’ he admits, ‘although it was just the once and it was before I found out what a wanker he was.’
‘You…you…Jesus Christ, the man should be down on his knees thanking God that you bothered to give him any of your time and attention at all!’ Sherlock looks suddenly enraged. ‘He doesn’t deserve you, he
( ... )
Second fill: Part 4
anonymous
September 21 2010, 20:59:11 UTC
With an effort, he unwinds his fingers from Sherlock’s hair and reaches down to tug at his hips, but Sherlock chooses that moment to shift his hands to John’s arse. John grits his teeth as the hands grip and squeeze, pushing their groins harder together, and his eyes close. He wants this, wants Sherlock to take him home and spread him out naked on his bed and fuck him, long and slow and hard. A whimper escapes his throat at the thought and, although it’s lost in the pounding music, Sherlock feels it. One hand moves to slide down under the back of John’s waistband as the other moves around to the front and starts efficiently flicking open buttons
( ... )
Second fill: Part 5
anonymous
September 21 2010, 21:01:46 UTC
In the taxi on the way to Baker Street, Sherlock won’t stop kissing John and John takes a moment to worry about what the driver in the front is thinking before giving it up. If he picks up customers from this particular street regularly then John will bet that a couple snogging in the back of the taxi isn’t the worst he’s had to deal with. Plus it’s impossible to concentrate: Sherlock’s heavy coat is draped over his lap and underneath it Sherlock has unfastened his jeans again and burrowed his hand inside, cupping John’s cock through his underwear, rubbing and squeezing him. His other hand is at the back of John’s neck, keeping their mouths pressed firmly together as John struggles for air through his nose and tries desperately to remember not to moan aloud - a few kisses is one thing but pornographic noises from the back seat are quite another
( ... )
Second fill: Part 6
anonymous
September 21 2010, 21:06:41 UTC
Slowly at first, gradually moving up to long, deep thrusts that make John’s toes curl and his head arch back. Sherlock tilts John’s hips up and wedges a couple of pillows beneath him, managing not to slip out of him while doing so, and experiments with different techniques - burying himself in John and grinding heavily against his prostate makes John moan aloud in bliss, but short, rapid thrusts right there make him bite down hard on his lip to stop himself screaming aloud at the white heat arcing through him. Acting on instinct, John reaches down blindly to take himself in hand but his hand is pushed away impatiently. Long fingers wrap themselves around his cock, slick with more lubricant that John doesn’t remember Sherlock reaching for, and Sherlock growls at him, ‘Open your eyes. Look at me
( ... )
Second fill: Part 7 - END
anonymous
September 21 2010, 21:08:35 UTC
Eventually, Sherlock stills, shaking but somehow keeping his balance as he catches his breath and his cock eventually slips out of John. He leans out of bed to dispose of the condom and then sprawls next to John, who turns onto his side and reaches out a hand blindly to Sherlock. Catching it, twining their fingers together, Sherlock demands, ‘John…about that awful man in the club…’
John shakes his head. ‘He’s no-one important.’ Please don’t make me talk about it.
Sherlock is silent for a while. ‘Well, I suppose not,’ he says eventually. ‘After all, you’re with me now.’
Miniscule though it is, John doesn’t miss the trace of query in Sherlock’s voice and he shuffles closer, drawing Sherlock’s arm over him.
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In his youth, he’d picked up all sorts of men. Most were just looking for a quick fuck with a handsome young thing (and with his blue eyes, ready smile and rugby player’s build, John Watson was very handsome indeed), a few had been genuinely nice blokes, and one or two had been real bastards. Tony (John couldn’t remember the man’s surname) had been one of the more dubious ones. Not really nasty, but still unpleasant enough to make John wish that he’d found any excuse rather than enter this club again ( ... )
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‘You know what he meant,’ John said miserably.
‘So does that mean you’re…’
‘Gay. Yes. Really very gay. An occasional bisexual at best. And this used to be one of my regular haunts.’ John straightens his spine, trying to gather what little dignity he has left about him. ‘And now if you’ll excuse me-’
‘Wait.’ Sherlock’s hand shoots out to close around his forearm, and John can see wheels spinning behind Sherlock’s narrow-eyed gaze. ‘And you slept with that…that…’ (John isn’t sure he can take any more horrified disgust about his love life and tries to delicately twist his arm out from Sherlock’s grasp prior to leaving) ‘that Neanderthal??’
John stops, cautiously reassured. ‘Well, yes, I did,’ he admits, ‘although it was just the once and it was before I found out what a wanker he was.’
‘You…you…Jesus Christ, the man should be down on his knees thanking God that you bothered to give him any of your time and attention at all!’ Sherlock looks suddenly enraged. ‘He doesn’t deserve you, he ( ... )
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John shakes his head. ‘He’s no-one important.’ Please don’t make me talk about it.
Sherlock is silent for a while. ‘Well, I suppose not,’ he says eventually. ‘After all, you’re with me now.’
Miniscule though it is, John doesn’t miss the trace of query in Sherlock’s voice and he shuffles closer, drawing Sherlock’s arm over him.
‘Yeah,’ he agrees. ‘Damn right I am.’
~Fin~
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This is amazing. Also, *waves* hi, I'm the author of the first fill for this prompt, and I don't mind a second fill at all.
Now then, I should finish mine, I guess. Sorry for the long wait, bit of a block on my end I'm afraid.
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Hope real life calms down enough for you to have some writing time, as I'm very curious read the rest of your fill for this...
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That was HOT and PERFECT!
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