Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

John couldn’t help the smile which was plastered over his face as he looked down at his best friend asleep on the sofa. Sherlock was curled up on his side, his knees up to his chest and one thumb carefully resting on his bottom lip as he sucked rhythmically; John watched Sherlock’s chest rise and fall with his deep breaths before moving into the kitchen to start tea.

He had never known Sherlock to nap on the sofa (although John wasn’t sure what the detective got up to whilst he was at work for 8 hours a day) and he certainly hadn’t expected him to be cuddled up with a soft toy under his arm, nuzzling into the fluffy blue rabbit. The view itself was both odd yet strangely adorable; it made John’s heart beat faster with the urge to protect the vulnerable man.

John made tea and walked through to the living room, seating himself on his chair he picked up his book and silently began to read, losing himself in the story easily. He looked up as he heard Sherlock choke out a gasp and blink his eyes open,

‘Jawn?’ Sherlock asked sleepily, rubbing his tired eyes

‘Hello, sleepy head’ John smiled, ‘have a nice nap?’

‘Hmmfh’ Sherlock groaned before realising he was holding onto his teddy and blushing crimson.

John noticed Sherlock’s discomfort and tutted ‘Don’t be embarrassed’

Sherlock stretched himself out and looked at his rabbit ‘he helps me sleep’

John moved his book to the side table and let his arms fall onto his lap ‘is it a comfort thing?’. Sherlock nodded and smiled at the fuzzy blue toy in his hand and stroked his fingers over the button nose,

‘Mycroft bought me him’ Sherlock smiled again before shutting down his facial expression to one of indifference.

John smiled and silently returned to his book.

A month later,

‘Come on, that’s it’ John soothed, his arm wrapped around Sherlock’s waist ‘Up you go’

‘Jawwwwn’ Sherlock drawled, ‘I can do itttt!’

‘I know you can’ John chuckled ‘I’m just helping a little’

The duo had been on a stakeout; waiting for a gang of counterfeiters to show themselves in an abandoned house. The pair had watched carefully and chose the right time to strike and had two of the thugs tied up waiting for Lestrade’s men who were on their way. Sherlock had spotted the third man running off down an alley and took off after him, leaving John with the criminals as he ran at full speed to catch the bad guy. He had caught up with the thug until he ran across the road without looking and was hit by a car, bouncing off the windshield with a crack.

Thankfully Lestrade had turned up in time for John to run and catch up with Sherlock, checking his pulse and making sure he wasn’t badly hurt. Sherlock had complained and shouted at the driver (despite John informing him that HE was in the wrong) before collapsing in pain.

An ambulance transported them to the nearest A&E where Sherlock complained bitterly over the use of the orange Shock Blanket before being given a sedative so the doctors could set his shoulder back in place. John had flinched painfully at the loud pop of the bone going back into place but Sherlock was so out of it he didn’t seem to notice, he was busy telling the doctor about the melting point of eyeballs.

Sherlock was still sedated as John attempted to help him up the stairs; slowly half carrying the taller man up to the flat as Sherlock fought and complained bitterly at John’s shoddy behaviour making John chuckle harder, insisting he was going to video Sherlock’s rambling.

‘I do not ramble!’ Sherlock insisted angrily

‘Okay, princess. Let’s get you to bed’ John sighed, rolling his eyes comically as he walked through the doorway into the messy room which Sherlock classed as his bedroom (it was more of a store cupboard for trinkets and clothing) and gently unbuttoning the shirt, helping Sherlock take it off carefully over his sore shoulder.

‘Can you manage your trousers?’ John asked watching Sherlock sway

‘Of courth’ Sherlock lisped attempting to roll his eyes at John but swaying dangerously towards the wardrobe

‘Okay, let’s get these off’ John sighed, untying Sherlock’s shoes and unzipping the tailored fabric, letting the trousers fall to Sherlock’s ankles leaving the detective in only pants and socks.

‘Into bed we go’ John insisted, pulling back the covers and helping Sherlock to lie down. He hid a snarl as he remembered doing the same thing when that woman had drugged Sherlock.

‘No, no no no I need him’ Sherlock scrambled his arms around the bed, crying out in pain as he lifted his painful shoulder jarringly.

‘Who?’ John asked confused

‘Thomas Edison!’ Sherlock insisted angrily, looking at John as though he was an idiot

‘Thomas Edi-‘ John laughed. Sherlock glared.

‘My rabbit!’ Sherlock said with a pink pout ‘His name is Thomas Edison!’

‘Oh,’ John suddenly understood ‘where is he?’

Sherlock pointed to his top drawer and John wandered over, sliding the drawer open and grabbing the soft blue toy from its place, his eyes were momentarily drawn to the contents of the cabinet (a lighter, half a box of Nicotine patches, a broken watch, two bottles of lube and an enormous anal plug) John cleared his throat and closed the drawer with his hip, feeling the blush creeping along his cheeks as he returned to Sherlock’s side.

‘Here’ he smiled as he handed Sherlock his teddy ‘One Thomas Edison’

‘Fankss’ Sherlock slurred, placing his finger into his mouth as he cuddled into the rabbit.

John turned to leave the room when Sherlock suddenly gasped ‘You’re not leaving are you?’

‘You need to rest’ John insisted,

‘Please. Stay with me?’ Sherlock pleaded moving over so John could sit on the bed too ‘I want you to’

John checked his mobile and saw it was almost 3 am, he’d have only been up for a little while anyway before retiring to bed so decided to join Sherlock in his bed. Pulling off his jumper and jeans he climbed into the bed in his t-shirt and pants and lay on his back staring at the strange ceiling above him.

‘My hair’ Sherlock whispered ‘can you… play with it?’

John sighed and turned to his side to tangle his fingers into the soft curls of Sherlock’s hair ‘you’re a pain in the arse do you know that?’

‘hmmm’ Sherlock added with a smile ‘Night Jawn’

‘G’night Sherlock’ John smiled, his fingers flexing until he fell asleep beside his best friend.

Chapter Text

John awoke early to the strange sensation of being pressed up against another person. The soft warmth of skin against his own skin making his nerves tingle up and down his spine, he opened his eyes and realised who the body belonged to.

Sherlock

John lay on his left side with the lithe body of Sherlock pressed against his front. His bent knees creating the perfect shelf for Sherlock’s pert arse to push against his morning erection; John attempted to continue breathing softly to ensure that his bedmate didn’t realise he was awake and enjoying the forbidden closeness between them. John’s right hand remained buried in the soft curls of Sherlock’s hair whilst the other wrapped around the detective’s waist, their fingers entwined over Sherlock’s bare stomach.

Sherlock’s hips circled softly, rutting his arse against John’s erection slowly, pressing the clothed cock into the fabric covered crack of his arse as he moved in elegant S shapes. A soft whimpering escaping his lips as he thrust; enjoying the friction of John,

John gasped and closed his eyes; his cock felt fit to burst and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could control his urge to rut wildly against Sherlock’s perfect derriere.

‘Jawwn’ Sherlock whispered, his voice sleepy and deep ‘Oh John’

John moved his fingers, flexing them into the raven curls and listening as Sherlock’s deep voice rumbled like thunder. The doctor heard the tell-tale sound of wet slick movements and watched enraptured as Sherlock’s shoulder moved in deliberate strokes, touching himself as he ground against John’s own erection.

‘Sh-Sherlock I-’ John started before biting down a groan as his climax washed over him and covered his boxer shorts and the back of Sherlock’s pyjama bottoms with his wetness. His hips juddered and thrust as the aftershocks of his orgasm shuddered through him,

‘Yes John, Yes’ Sherlock growled before tensing and whimpering as his own peak hit. The thought of Sherlock climaxing so close to John but being unable to see Sherlock’s face as he came was distressingly upsetting to John who’s cock twitched with interest once more.

‘Morning’ John whispered sleepily into the back of Sherlock’s hair, his nose inhaling the erotic smell of sleep, Sherlock’s shampoo and the fabric conditioner from the pillowcase.

‘Mmmmmorning’ Sherlock replied with a coy grin, wiggling his hips.

‘I think we need to shower’ John suggested with a chuckle,

‘As does Thomas Edison… I think I got some on him’ Sherlock grimaced as he turned over to look at John,

Their eyes met; lust blown pupils ringed with only a hint of colour staring at one another. John’s gaze flicked from the colourless eyes down to the pink pout and back up again,

‘Yes John’ Sherlock confirmed with a smile, closing his eyes and waiting for the pressure.

John pressed his lips against Sherlock’s own; chaste at first, feeling the fluttering of his lower abdomen as they breathed in one another’s air before Sherlock ran his wet tongue over the bottom lip of John’s mouth, begging for entry which was quickly granted. Their tongues met in a passionate dance, slow and lazy they gasped and moaned into each other. John moved his hand to stroke through the long curls before settling his hand over Sherlock’s cheek, his thumb stroking the cheekbone as they kissed.

Seconds, minutes, hours or years may have passed during their first embrace, neither man realised nor cared as the world continued around them regardless. Their whole existence centred around this moment, the meeting of their tongues and the slide of their flesh against one another with the lingering scent of male arousal and ejaculate filling the air.

‘We still need to shower’ Sherlock giggled into the warm heat of John’s mouth causing the doctor to burst into laughter.

‘We always do things arse first’ John laughed ‘there aren’t many people who move in, then give one another orgasms and then kiss’

‘Pfft’ Sherlock scoffed with a smile ‘since when do we do anything normally?’

John grinned and kissed Sherlock’s nose as he rolled onto his back ‘Shower time’

‘And then tea?’ Sherlock asked ‘My shoulder is hurting’

‘Wankers cramp’ John laughed before standing ‘Come on, smelly’

‘You already did’ Sherlock joked before joining John on his journey to the bathroom.

Chapter Text

Playlist

John awoke to Sherlock’s screams from the bedroom below.

They hadn’t shared a bed since the night of Sherlock’s A&E trip and nothing had been said about the activities which happened on the morning, the grinding of Sherlock’s hips and the intense orgasms which crashed over them both, followed by a tender and loving kiss. They had been too busy finishing the paperwork for the case and starting a new embezzlement case which came in via the blog to have a heartfelt conversation about their thoughts and feelings over the change in their relationship. John felt rather glad of the fact if he was honest; neither he nor Sherlock was adept at talking about their emotions.

Slipping from his bed quickly he took the stairs two at a time to reach the doorway to Sherlock’s room, his feet pounding loudly on the floor (hopefully not loud enough to wake Mrs H. She should have taken her soother by now). John pushed open the door and scanned the bedroom for intruders but finds only a shadow in the corner of the bedroom, huddled beside the wardrobe.

‘Sherlock?’ John whispered carefully, inching his way over to the shaking shape engulfed in darkness ‘It’s John, are you okay?’

Sherlock was still asleep; his eyes wide but unseeing as he shivered and pressed himself closer to the safety of the corner ‘I’ll never tell you’

John’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion at the statement but he shrugged it off and continued attempting to coax Sherlock from his hiding place ‘Sherlock, are you awake?’

Sherlock answered in a language that John didn’t recognise, guttural sounds elongated by Sherlock’s whispered tone ‘I won’t let you hurt him’

John frowned and squatted opposite Sherlock, watching the younger man tremble violently ‘Hurt who?’

John’s heart pounded as Sherlock looked him straight in the eyes and whispered ‘John Watson’ before curling further into a ball and crying out as imaginary blows were raining down on him.

John stood shakily and ran to the bathroom filling up the glass which was kept there and rinsing out a flannel with cold water before returning to Sherlock’s bedroom. John sat with his back to the foot of the bed, speaking softly and calmly about ridiculous topics, he spoke about what he had for lunch and the patient he had seen long, long ago who claimed to have accidentally fallen on a ketchup bottle. He discussed the shopping he needed to do the next day and sang softly along with the words to ‘Hotel California’ when he ran out of things to say, remembering how much better he felt during his nightmares when he awoke to Sherlock’s own voice calmly bringing him out of the terrible memories.

His mumbling singing was interrupted by Sherlock waking up and blinking, taking long and gasping breaths as he recognised his surroundings and his best friend watching him intently,

‘Welcome back’ John smiled softly offering Sherlock the glass of water. Sherlock attempted to raise it to his lips but spilt most of the liquid due to his trembling hands; John held the glass steady and helped Sherlock take small sips before putting it back down to the floor.

‘You okay?’ John asked carefully ‘sounded pretty bad’

Sherlock nodded shakily before moving his hand to his crotch and gasping ‘J-John’

John had noticed the patch when he first arrived; the loss of bladder control occasionally happened to him during his nightmares too so he wasn’t surprised or uncomfortable with the situation.

‘It’s okay. I’m a doctor remember’ John joked ‘Do you need help getting up or would you rather do it yourself?’

Sherlock seemed to stop for a second before nodding for help, holding his arms up and allowing John to take his hand and pull him to a standing position carefully. John left Sherlock looking for clean underwear as he stepped into the bathroom and began running the shower to an adequate temperature, smiling at the detective when he came into the room clad in his dressing gown.

‘Shall I make tea?’ John asked about to leave the room when a strong hand gripped his wrist and turned him round making him look face to face with the taller man.

‘Please don’t leave me’ Sherlock whispered desperately ‘please’

The atmosphere in the bathroom had suddenly become heated; the air seemed to have been sucked from the space around them as they continued to stare at one another, each gazing at one another lovingly before Sherlock moved his eyes, letting go of John and allowing the doctor to put down the lid on the toilet, seating himself and shivering at the cold plastic touching his boxer short clad arse. Sherlock looked over at his friend who dropped his dressing gown and climbed naked into the shower.

‘What language were you speaking?’ John asked cautiously

‘I don’t know. I can’t remember’ Sherlock insisted from behind the flimsy plastic shower curtain ‘what did it sound like?’

John thought for a moment before smiling ‘remember we watched Game of Thrones?’

‘The one with the dwarf and the sword chair?’ Sherlock asked

‘Yeah that one’ John chuckled ‘it sounded like you were speaking Dothraki’

Sherlock stayed silent for a few seconds before speaking ‘Dothraki was influenced by Russian, Turkish, Estonian and a hint of Swahili. I only speak one of these’

‘How many languages do you speak?’ John asked in shock ‘I know about French and Latin’

‘Fluently? Only English’ Sherlock smiled from behind the curtain ‘but I can speak passably well Russian, German, French, Latin, Italian and Mandarin’

‘Jesus’ John chuckled ‘doesn’t it get confusing?’

‘Only when I’m being asked questions I don’t want to answer’ Sherlock replied sadly before turning off the water ‘Thank you John’

‘Oh… No problem’ the doctor smiled ‘you’d do the same for me’

‘Yes’ Sherlock replied stepping out of the bath and wrapping a towel around his waist and grabbing a smaller towel for his hair ‘I would’

John walked with Sherlock back into his bedroom and began redressing the now stripped bed using clean sheets from the airing cupboard. Sherlock dried himself quickly and efficiently, slipping into his boxers and combing his fingers through his hair as John wiggled the duvet into the cover.

Sherlock smirked as he watched John’s arse jiggle from side to side and whistled low, waggling his eyebrow at John’s bemused face.

‘Not your housekeeper dear’ John chuckled before bursting into giggles ‘get in’

‘Stay with me?’ Sherlock asked quietly

‘I was intending to, I just spent ages doing this bed up’ John complained

‘It was a whole two minutes at most’ Sherlock insisted before rolling his eyes at John’s dramatic flop to the mattress.

John lay on his back; his arm outstretched over Sherlock’s pillow as Sherlock climbed in and quickly positioned himself to lie onto John’s chest. His ear directly over John’s heartbeat, listening to the calming thrum,

‘You said my name’ John whispered into the darkness ‘in your nightmare’

‘Hmm’ Sherlock replied non-committedly

‘You don’t have to tell me’ John started ‘but I want to know what happened… those two years’

John had seen the scars of course; living closely with another man (even one who doesn’t wake you up with a rocking bum against your crotch) is bound to end up with some unexpected voyeurism, plus Sherlock had a habit of wandering around in a sheet displaying his pale skin.

Sherlock turned his head to look up at John and then back down to its original position as his hands began stroking circles over the soft skin of John’s stomach,

‘I travelled a lot, moved from place to place tracking down Moriarty’s web until I found myself in Siberia. I had a contact with one of Mycroft’s men who had been deep undercover, thankfully my Russian was good enough for my cover story as an international arms dealer’ Sherlock inhaled shakily ‘It was going well until one of the men saw through my disguise and realised who I really was’

John gasped despite himself ‘what happened?’

‘They killed my contact immediately. Shot him in the back of the head as he was eating’ Sherlock whispered ‘they held me in an underground bunker and … well… you’ve seen my back’

‘They tortured you?’ John asked with tears in his eyes as Sherlock nodded

‘They knew they couldn’t break me with pain. I was used to pain by then, after they’d fractured my cheekbone for the third time, but then they mentioned you’ Sherlock sniffed sadly ‘They told me that they knew where you lived and that you had forgotten about me, that you were with somebody else and happy. That you worked with them and were only using me for Moriarty’s pleasure’ Sherlock blushed ‘for a brief second I believed them’

‘How could you believe them?’ John gasped

‘You have to understand John; nobody has ever wanted me around them for this long. Nobody can normally stand to be around me for more than ten minutes at a time and you were with me almost 24/7 for eighteen months’ Sherlock whispered clearly emotional ‘I momentarily believed that you were only my friend because you were spying’

John’s heart shattered at the thought of Sherlock alone and scared in a foreign country second-guessing his only lasting friendship ‘How did you know it wasn’t true?’

‘I remembered your face’ Sherlock smiled, gazing into space at the bottom of the bed ‘I remembered every time you looked at me, whenever you smiled or frowned, when you laughed or got so angry you wanted to punch me through a wall and I realised that nobody could fake being that amazing constantly’

John blushed and ran his fingers through Sherlock’s hair softly ‘I thought about you every day. For a while, you were the only thing I thought of. I would spend hours sitting beside your grave, talking to the granite slab until my legs went numb and my shoulder ached. I would dream constantly of you’

‘You were the only thing to get me through the two years’ Sherlock admitted with a blush ‘knowing your friendship was still waiting… or hoping it was. It was enough’

‘It’s not enough for me’ John whispered grasping for Sherlock’s face and pulling him up to look John in the eye.

The two friends stared at one another for a long moment before simultaneously moving together to meet in an erotic kiss. Their tongues sweeping against one another as they actively sought to express their devotion to one another through the medium of snogging, John’s hand moved to wrap around Sherlock’s neck whilst Sherlock pressed a hand to John’s lower stomach, just over the navel as they stretched to kiss each other.

John moved quickly and flipped their positions so Sherlock was lying on his back, his head against the pillows as John’s arms bracketed the detectives head, their eyes meeting for a long, indulgent stare before John placed a chaste and soft kiss against Sherlock’s bow lips, the touches slow and gentle as he build up a suitable rhythm with his lips, adding a small amount of suction and tongue which made Sherlock gasp and grind his boxer-clad erection over John’s own.

The doctor nuzzled his nose against Sherlock’s cheekbone and exhaled shakily into the younger man’s ear as he focused on the sensations; moving his lips slowly over the soft skin of Sherlock’s face, John journeyed to the long, pale expanse of neck. He placed soft kisses and licks across the skin which still tasted of Sherlock’s soap and shampoo yet smelled so strongly of his best friend. John inhaled the scent and swallowed it down, hoping to store it away forever deep inside him. Sherlock lay beneath the weight of John’s torso, practically humming with tension and arousal from such small touches,

John continued to kiss and caress every inch of Sherlock’s neck and ears, licking and sucking at the sensitive earlobes and watching as Sherlock arched from the bed, desperately keening for more. John smiled happily and hushed his lover with soothing words as his lips focussed on the prominent collarbone and shoulders, his tongue flicking out and tasting every available inch.

Sherlock’s mind shut down, the only thoughts and deductions screaming ‘more’ and ‘please’ as John attached his lips to Sherlock’s nipples, sucking and nibbling them softly until they raised into a point to be easily stimulated. Sherlock’s spine arched from the bed once more, his eyes tightly closed at the sensations flooding his body and mind. He hadn’t expected sex to feel like this, he could never have prepared himself for these feelings and John hadn’t even reached his genitals. Sherlock took a shaky and painful breath as John moved his ministrations to the other nipple, his hands trailing down Sherlock’s sides and over his flat and perfect stomach,

‘Please tell me if I’m going too fast’ John whispered, knowing that he never, ever wanted to stop now he had Sherlock in his arms,

‘G-Naww’ Sherlock attempted, wondering when he became so inarticulate and whether his body was playing tricks on him,

John smiled sweetly and nodded as he kissed along the barely-there trail of hair to Sherlock’s boxers which had become tented and marked with a spot of precum. John mouthed at the twitching bulge beneath the black fabric and groaned at the scent of Sherlock’s arousal, the spicy musk of Sherlock’s body making a heady combination and causing John’s cock to twitch in his own boxers.

John expected to have a moment of panic; a dread feeling low in his stomach as he looked down at the throbbing bulge beneath him but found nothing but a sense of hunger and desperation. He wanted to see Sherlock undone; he wanted Sherlock on, around and inside him, until they became old and grey. Sherlock groaned deeply as John peeled away the sticky layer of fabric and took in the sight of a hard, flushed and leaking Sherlock for the first time.

Sherlock’s cock was a sight to behold. His shaft pale ivory leading to a pink, flushed tip; His foreskin pulled back fully with his arousal but John can tell that he’s uncut and the skin is normally tight around his head. John ran a finger down the large vein threading through Sherlock’s shaft and watched as Sherlock shuddered and gasped at the sensation, a bead of precum leaking from his slit to roll gracefully down the throbbing column until it nestled in the dark patch of black hair.

John was actually surprised at how hairy Sherlock is; his chest, stomach, legs and arms are all so light and barely hairy that seeing the black curls which covered Sherlock’s pubic bone, balls and upper thighs was momentarily shocking. John had expected Sherlock to be shaved or at least a little bit manscaped due to his strict personal hygiene routines.

John licked his lips and extended his tongue to lick away the pearly moisture which had settled on the tip, the taste was unusual but not unlike his own (any man who claims to have never tasted himself is a liar) howeverSherlock’s was slightly bitter and tangy from his diet of cigarettes and coffee. John moved his hands to cup Sherlock’s large testicles in his palm, rolling them and feeling the heavy weight in his hands.

‘J-John, I don’t, I can’t’ Sherlock whimpered, his throat seemingly coated in honey which made the words stick.

‘Do you want me to stop?’ John asked seriously, his hand stopping all movement,

‘No…Yes…I don’t know’ Sherlock admitted, his brain totally overwhelmed with the situation

‘Okay, it’s okay’ John soothed softly, his hand trailing up and down Sherlock’s legs gently ‘Take some deep breaths for me’

Sherlock inhaled and exhaled until his heartbeat had calmed and he felt less likely to flee

‘Better?’ John smiled watching Sherlock nod with a blush, ‘we don’t have to rush anything you know’

Sherlock shook his head ‘No, I’ve waited long enough’ he sighed ‘Need you John’

John exhaled shakily whispering ‘Christ’ and gripping his cock through his boxers realising that the urge to cum in his pants was growing.

‘How… How do you want me?’ John asked nervously

‘Inside’ Sherlock answered simply, spreading his legs wider to allow John closer to his most intimate place.

‘Fuck Sherlock’ John swore, pulling off his shirt and moving back to kiss Sherlock passionately ‘are you sure?’

Sherlock nodded and continued kissing John as he took the doctors smaller one in his own and placed it between his buttocks, gasping at the sensation as John simply stroked his finger up and down the slightly clammy cleft.

‘We won’t last long’ John insisted, more to save embarrassment when he climaxed within a dozen thrusts as he was likely to do, Sherlock replied with an ‘hmm’ and moved his hand to cup John’s bulge through the fabric of his underwear,

John scanned the area to look for lube, finding none he calmly whispered ‘do you have lube?’

Sherlock’s eyes flicked open as he nodded into the drawer where Thomas Edison had been kept (where is Thomas Edison? Sherlock’s brain asked quizzically before being shushed by Sherlock). John stood and opened the drawer, smiling at the anal plug before grabbing the lubricant and moving to the edge of the bed, hooking his thumbs into his underwear he pulled them down and finally bared himself fully to Sherlock’s lust blown eyes.

‘Erm… condom’s too?… just incase… but I know I’m clean’ John blushed

‘Me too’ Sherlock smiled, ‘No barriers’

‘It’s not like we’ll be sleeping with anyone else after tonight right?’ John asked with a crimson glow to his cheeks ‘Just one another?’

Sherlock’s heart almost stopped beating at the thought of him and John being exclusive; no more dates, no more dreadful women he would have to scare away, no more pining. It would just be them two together from now on.

‘Sherlock?’ John asked worried ‘Outta your head, you have to communicate with me here’ he laughed

‘Yes, John. Nobody but us’ Sherlock answered finally watching John click open the lubricant and drizzle it over his fingers.

‘Have you done this before?’ John asked, remembering the large sex toy in the drawer,

‘Only alone’ Sherlock spluttered, his face lighting up with embarrassment,

‘Well… that’s a sight I must see one day’ John almost growled with lust watching Sherlock shudder in aroused need.

John began quickly; his first finger slipping inside the furled entrance easily and without issue, Sherlock tensed for a moment at the warmth of John’s hand (so different to the texture of the anal plug. Maybe I should have John hold ice and see how it feels, or wear a glove, or more heat)

‘Oi’ John pressed firmly against Sherlock’s prostate, startling the younger man into returning to consciousness ‘Out of your head’

‘Sorry, I was thinking about ice’ Sherlock admitted watching John’s eyebrows furrow ‘I mean, your fingers are so different to my experiences with the toy. I was wondering how they would feel if your fingers were cold, or warm’

‘Ha, thinking of experiments even when I have a finger in you?’ John chuckled ‘It’s a good job I love you’

Sherlock’s mind clicked off and he momentarily froze whilst John continued oblivious to the frenzied thoughts going through his lovers mind. John added a second finger and probed at Sherlock’s prostate making the detective gasp and shimmy down the bed for more friction.

‘One more’ John smiled, taking out his fingers and re-lubing them until 3 fingers were oily enough to slip into Sherlock’s tightness, scissoring and stretching the younger man to fit his size.

‘Are you sure?’ John asked nervously, his cock leaking more than he had ever known, leaving a trail over his lower abdomen

‘Yes, god yes’ Sherlock mumbled, wrapping his legs around John’s waist and pulling him closer ‘but kiss me’

John positioned himself at Sherlock’s entrance and moved his lips to Sherlock’s; his tongue probed at the detective's mouth until Sherlock had calmed his breathing, slow and steady, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.

When John pushed in, it was like lightening, like fireworks, every nerve in his body lit up as though he had been electrocuted as he sank inside Sherlock inch by inch.

Sherlock breathed a breathy gasp into John’s mouth; they had stopped kissing, instead, they held their lips millimetres apart, sharing each breath and swallowing each moan which was released into the space between them. John stilled to allow Sherlock to adjust to the stretch, the slight burn quickly fading into pleasure when John’s cock was fully sheathed inside the warmth of Sherlock’s body, his tip pressed against Sherlock’s most sensitive nerves causing the detective to mewl prettily, his eyes rolling back in his head and his teeth worrying his bottom lip.

‘Ok?’ John asked breathlessly

‘Yes John’ Sherlock whimpered ‘Yes’

John began to move slowly, pulling out slightly before pushing back in, a slow and gentle rhythm to allow Sherlock to feel each inch of him. John’s own pleasure dulled slightly by his panic of coming too early and ruin the moment. Sherlock gripped John’s back with talon-like fingernails, his fingers grasping onto any skin available as his arousal rocketed with every touch of his prostate; John hissed but allowed Sherlock to take what he needed,

The scratches on his back would be a reminder of their night, of the scars Sherlock received to come back to him.

John wrapped a hand into Sherlock’s hair and lowered himself further until he was breathing directly into the shell of Sherlock’s ear, his breathy gasps rushing through Sherlock and collecting at the base of his spine into what was to become an intense orgasm.

John was close; he could feel the building pressure, the tingling urge for release rushing through his veins and emanating from his spine outwards, filling every available space with pleasure as he continued to thrust into the man he loved.

‘S-Sherlock, I’m close’ John warned nervously, ‘I want you to cum first. Touch yourself, please’

‘Yes’ Sherlock gasped, moving one hand from John’s back to wrap around his already leaking and throbbing shaft, he gave three long, swift strokes and he was dangling helplessly over the precipice of his orgasm, his mind quietening to a slight buzz as John’s cock touched that special place one last time causing Sherlock to gasp and tighten around the intruder inside him, a hitched breath and a whisper of ‘John’ and Sherlock was coming between their bodies; long, hot pulses of wetness coating their flesh as Sherlock gasped and groaned in the most intense and mind blowing orgasm of his life.

‘God’ John choked ‘Fuck, I’m … I’m going to… oh god Sherlock’

His orgasm hit him like a fast moving train; his cock twitched inside the hot, hot heat of Sherlock’s body and then he was coating Sherlock with his release, painting his insides white as he panted and groaned directly into Sherlock’s ear.

John kissed along Sherlock’s neck and jaw, nuzzling him slightly as the afterglow washed over him like a warm blanket. He lowered himself to cover Sherlock completely, careful not to squash the tiny man beneath him but anchoring the detective to the bed as his mind clicked back online and he blinked up at his lover,

‘Hey’ John smiled ‘welcome back’

Sherlock shuddered happily as another aftershock ran through his body when John slowly removed himself from the tight and slight sore hole. Sherlock gasped and clenched his muscles tightly to try to stop John leaking from his insides but gave up when John pulled him into a deep and comforting embrace,

John sighed, pressing a kiss to Sherlock’s forehead as the younger man snuggled up against John’s shoulder ‘ I love you’

‘I love you too John, so much’ Sherlock whispered into John’s skin,

‘You really are amazing’ John giggled happily

‘Hmmm’ Sherlock mumbled

‘Oh is that how it’s going to be eh? You shag me and then fall asleep without post-coital cuddles?’ John teased,

‘That wasn’t just normal shagging. That was extraordinary’ Sherlock mumbled into John’s clammy skin ‘I’m going to need to sleep for a week’

‘I wouldn’t complain’ John laughed ‘Oh wait, where’s Thomas Edison?’

Sherlock shrugged simply adding ‘Don’t need him anymore’ before closing his eyes and softly dozing on his lover’s chest.

The Origin of Thomas Edison;

Wiener Privatklinik, Vienna.

Sherlock rested in his comfortable hospital bed; his wounds had been stitched and his vitals had been taken again. He attempted to relax and read the newspaper but his mind wouldn’t focus due to the painkillers they had given him, he had originally refused all pain relief but the doctors had persuaded him due to the severity of some of his cuts which had penetrated muscle.

He looked up in time to see Mycroft enter the ward with a fake and fixed smile; the nurse asked him a question in German to which the politician replied in perfectly accented German before turning to walk into Sherlock’s private room.

‘Mycroft’ Sherlock greeted his brother warmly. Despite their fights and arguments, both brothers realised how much they cared and needed one another; especially Sherlock who had been grateful for his brothers meddling when he rescued him from the subterranean Siberian hellhole and delivered him to the best private hospital in Vienna.

‘Sherlock’ Mycroft smiled ‘how are you feeling?’

Sherlock attempted to raise himself up the bed, wincing in pain as the stitches stretched against his sore skin ‘Sore’ he admitted ‘but better after a shower’

‘Hmm, you were a bit… fetid’ Mycroft joked, seating himself in the chair beside Sherlock’s bed. Sherlock looked over the British Government with fondness; strangely he had missed Mycroft in his silly tailored suits and ridiculous umbrella, ‘You didn’t sleep?’

Sherlock shook his head no; he hadn’t been able to sleep without nightmares since his escape. He dreamt he was back in the cell with the torturer, or he was on the roof of Bart’s but John wasn’t there… or the worst one, he was running after John and calling his name but John was too fast, he was running away and Sherlock couldn’t catch him.

‘I know its ridiculous’ Mycroft started, clearing his throat ‘but I got you this… thought it might help’

Sherlock watched as Mycroft reached into his briefcase and removed a blue fluffy stuffed rabbit, Mycroft handed it over to Sherlock with a blush and smoothed out a crease in his trousers ‘It reminded me of the one you had when you were a child, what was it called?’ he thought, going through his mind palace.

‘Tesla’ Sherlock smiled remembering his bunny which he trailed everywhere with him back at the Holmes manor. He trailed his fingers over his new friend’s button nose

‘That’s right, Tesla’ Mycroft returned the smile kindly ‘What should you call this one?’

‘Thomas Edison’ Sherlock grinned before bursting into laughter, joined by Mycroft moments later.

‘Well, I better be off’ Mycroft said as he stood carefully ‘Pakistan elections are ongoing’

‘How fun’ Sherlock snarked before looking at his brother ‘Mycroft… thank you’

‘Not a problem brother mine’ Mycroft assured Sherlock, although Sherlock knew it had been a problem, a complete hassle for his brother to make the trip to Siberia, learn the language, plan an escape and arrange medical care. Not that his brother would admit it. ‘Get some sleep’

Sherlock watched Mycroft leave before looking at the toy and feeling ridiculous; He was a fully grown man, he shouldn’t need a soft toy to placate him into sleeping.

A familiar smell emanated from the fluff causing Sherlock to bring it to his nose and sniff deeply.

John’s aftershave

Sherlock realised he would never love Mycroft more than he did at that very moment. Everything his brother had done to annoy or anger him was simply blown away by the thoughtfulness of the gesture. Sherlock curled up with his bunny beneath his nose; sniffing and twirling the fabric around his fingers until the comforting smell of his best friend sent him into a natural and satisfying sleep.