Beneath The Silver Moon Part 19
Title: Beneath The Silver Moon
Characters: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~1,200
Warnings: Werewolves, aspects of the Omega/Alpha/Beta universe
Summary: After being bitten in Afghanistan, John was invalided home. Being a werewolf was new to him, and he wasn't interested in any of the help or orientation that the Centre had to offer, but even his wolf knew better than to enter territory that had been marked. Until his first outside change, when he met a strange alpha wolf that wanted John to follow it home into pack territory. John's initial refusal became a challenge for the curious alpha... one Sherlock Holmes.
This is for a prompt on the kink meme.
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Sherlock groaned against his mouth and then suddenly there were hands on John's hips, pulling him even more snugly against Sherlock's body and a tongue was prying his mouth open. John turned himself over to the kiss willingly, unconsciously grinding his hips against Sherlock's thigh. He was half-hard already and his cock was swelling quickly, the blood rushing south so fast that it was leaving him feeling a little lightheaded. With effort, he tore his mouth away and breathed in raggedly. All he could taste, all he could smell, all he could feel was Sherlock and it was making his head spin.
The hands on his hips pressed him backwards, walking him towards the sofa. John's knees hit the cushions and he tipped over backwards. Instantly Sherlock was straddling him, eyes blazing as he went to work on John's neck, nipping and sucking and biting at the tender flesh while John writhed beneath him. Gasping shallowly, John worked his hands down underneath the hem of Sherlock's shirt until he could touch the warm skin underneath. Sherlock made an approving sound and pulled back just long enough to shuck his jacket and unbutton his shirt. John watched those long fingers working with the buttons and swallowed hard, his heart racing.
"Fuck, Sherlock," he said hoarsely as more skin was revealed to him. There hadn't been much opportunity to admire Sherlock before because of the frenzy of his heat, but the man was truly stunning: a work of sharp, angular lines and a hint of curve in just the right places, all covered by what seemed to be miles of pale, porcelain skin. John's mouth watered and he leaned forward, lapping at the delicate skin of Sherlock's navel. He was pleased to hear the strangled moan that emerged from Sherlock's mouth as a result.
"John," Sherlock said breathlessly. His eyes were wide and John understood.
"Never done this before, have you?" he asked, tweaking Sherlock's nipples just because he could. Sherlock squirmed and ground down without conscious thought. Both of them moaned as their cocks came into contact; the flash of pure pleasure was almost enough to make John forget what he had been doing. "You wolves are so... oh god, do that again Sherlock!... you're so caught up in your own little world that you totally forget... fuck... you forget..."
He trailed off and stared, hardly breathing, as Sherlock somehow managed to shuck his trousers and pants without ever moving off of John. His cock was fully hard, jutting proudly away from a nest of tidy black curls. John reached out and slipped his hand around the base, marvelling at the fact that this had been inside him several times already and would be again shortly. Sherlock was much thicker and longer than he'd realized and, curiously, he could feel the small hard lump at the base where the knot would form when John was in heat. This was the first time he'd ever seen an alpha werewolf naked when he wasn't otherwise consumed and it was fascinating.
"John," Sherlock said again, and this time he sounded amused. "You can give me a medical examination later. Right now I'd like to fuck you."
"Jesus," John muttered. "Yes, Sherlock, yes. Get off so I can take my trousers off."
Sherlock slid to the side obligingly and John stood up, making quick work of his own clothing. In seconds he was as naked as Sherlock and he turned, looking down at the man. Sherlock was sprawled against the end of the couch, thighs parted obscenely, one leg resting lazily on the floor. He looked to be the very picture of a debauched man. John swallowed hard, realizing that there was exactly enough room for him to straddle Sherlock and sink down onto the man's cock. It probably should have alarmed him, how very much he wanted that.
"Lube," he said hoarsely. "We need lube, Sherlock."
"Why?"
"Because I'm not in heat, that's why. I'll take that to mean you haven't got any, damn." John thought for a moment. Buying lube hadn't been high on his list of priorities when he returned to London; he'd hardly been expecting to fall into bed with a gorgeously insane and incredibly possessive alpha. They would have to make do. "Stay there, I'll be right back."
He turned and hurried into the bathroom, making a quick and thorough search only to come up with nothing. Growing desperate, he went into the bedroom that he still wasn't sure if he and Sherlock were sharing and fetched the small container of Vaseline out of his backpack. It wasn't the best substance but it would do, and if he had to wait any longer he was going to explode. He ran back to the living room and saw that Sherlock had started without him by gently pulling at his cock with long, languid strokes that had John freezing to the spot just so that he could watch.
"This is so inconvenient," Sherlock complained when he looked up and saw John. "I like you better when you're in heat and can produce your own lube."
"Inconvenient?" John raised an eyebrow with a knowing smile. Sherlock really had no idea, did he? Their sex while he'd been in heat had been fabulous, completely overwhelming and earth-shattering as it went, but there was something to be said for sex that wasn’t happening while their bodies were in a frenzy. He had a sudden vision of showing Sherlock exactly how sex without a heat could differ in great detail and felt his knees grow weak with desire. "I'll show you exactly how inconvenient this is, then."
Instead of returning to the couch, he sat down on what was rapidly becoming his chair and spread his legs, hooking his good one over the arm of the chair. He wouldn't be able to stay this way for long but it would do for the time being. Sherlock sat up, looking more interested, as John popped the top of the container off and greased up two of his fingers. He’d only ever done this the one time, but curiously, he felt no shame or embarrassment whatsoever. He forced himself to relax as he lowered his hand and pressed one finger into his hole. Due to the awkward angle he wouldn’t be able to find his prostate, but the lack of stimulation was more than made up for by the fact that Sherlock's eyes had gotten very round and very wide and were glued to John's hole as he steadily moved a finger in and out.
“You see?” he asked, his eyes fluttering shut as he pulled his finger out and traced it around slowly, discovering for the first time just how responsive the skin around his entrance was. He whimpered, squirming at the sensation of his finger teasing the sensitive rim, and pushed the tip of it in, crooking it slightly before he dragged it back out. Oh yes, that was...
Fingers that didn’t belong to him were touching him suddenly. John sucked in a sharp breath and his eyes flew open to see Sherlock on his knees and the little tube of Vaseline half empty. Sherlock was staring at his entrance, expression entranced. Being the sole focus of all that attention was completely overwhelming and John clenched his free hand into a fist as Sherlock pushed one of his fingers inside of John, finding John’s prostate with ease. The wicked little smirk on his face as John gasped and his hips twisted left John with the feeling he might’ve created a monster.
Part 20