sherlockbbc_fic | Prompting Part XXXV

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Prompting Part XXXV

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MEME LINKS
Pinboard Archive - Delicious Archive - Guide to the Archive
Filled Prompts Posts: Parts 1-23 - Parts 24+ - Spoiler Free
The Glorious FAQ - Page-A-Mod

Flat View of This Page - Newest Page in Flatview - Newest Page of the Meme

Love Post - Chatter Post - Searching Post
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Spoiler Free Prompt Post - Overflow Post

Links to previous prompting parts

OTHER LINKS AND AFFILIATES

sherlock_rant: A place to rant about or discuss anything with few to no restrictions.

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sherlockbbc: A community dedicated to the BBC adaptation of Sherlock Holmes.
Useful resources for Sherlock and LiveJournal.
Sherlock screencaps.

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John ascended the stairs as a melancholy version of the piece Sherlock had performed on his wedding night drifted down to greet him, but he was only vaguely aware of a violin being played. Instead, he was entirely preoccupied with the intense swirling in the pit of his stomach, unsure if it was fear or anticipation.

He conjured up a mental image of Sherlock and felt a sudden surge of heat, his mind flooding with visions of Sherlock sprawling upon the bed, of Sherlock's wiry fingers round him, of himself... pressing hot against Sherlock's thigh as he claimed a kiss against the walls of this very hallway. The music stopped abruptly as he began to push open the door.

Sherlock scanned him as he entered the room and before John could say a word he had discarded the violin and was leading him to a chair. "Bess? For God's sake, say that she is not hurt."

Shocked, John barely had the chance to blurt out, "She's with..." before he realized Sherlock had answered his own question, "With Mrs Hudson."

Sherlock visibly relaxed. "I must admit, this is sooner than I had anticipated. I was concerned Mary had made another desperate move. That she had threatened her."

"Threatened me, actually."

The back of John's legs were butted up against Sherlock's chair, but he remained standing, drawing himself to his full height and speaking in earnest. "Sherlock, I don't want to escape this life. When you spoke of the thrill of the chase, I wanted it so badly, wanted that back. I couldn't stand not having had it for so long. I'm so sorry... I had I no right to come at you like that." He gently pulled Sherlock's head down and tenderly kissed him on the bridge of his nose, the very spot where he had once launched his forehead.

"It was nothing, John. A mere scratch. Quite superficial."

"And the... with Mary." John shook his head and brought a hand up to briefly cover his eyes before running it down his face. "God, both times with Mary," he muttered, lips pursed. "I hope all these wounds," John traced his hands along the scars on Sherlock's back and chest before resting them over his heart, "can be healed."

"It was worth a wound. It was worth many wounds. It was worth my time in exile to know the depth your loyalty. It was worth relinquishing my body to her to know the physicality of your love." Sherlock's clear, hard eyes dimmed for a moment, his firm lips shaking... a great heart as well as great brain, plain to see in that moment of revelation. "Now, that's entirely enough sentiment. Please assume forgiveness for any way in which you could have possibly wronged me. There are far better things to do with our time."

Sherlock fixed his eyes on John's as he placed his finger gently over John's lips and slowly dragged it down his body: chin, neck, chest, stomach, cock. John groaned and leaned his forehead on Sherlock's arm. "This is so right," he whispered, as he reached for Sherlock's belt. "Just us. Except for the location. Need something more... horizontal. This room is wrong."

"But expedient." Sherlock pushed him backwards into the chair and straddled him, nimble fingers reaching into John's pants and running along his length, before he released his grip and freed himself. John quickly removed his trousers, nearly ripping the fabric in his haste. Sherlock wrapped his hand around the both of them and simply held them together for a moment, bracing himself on the back of his chair with his other arm as they took in the stillness of the flat and the quiet of their breathing. He began to move his wrist. In a whisper, he outlined his intentions. "John.... John, I want to feel you... I want to be surrounded by you."

John's posture stiffened. He wasn't sure if he was ready for...

"No... like this..." He pulled back John's foreskin, exposing the slick and darkening head, and then he pulled his own back as well. He pressed the tips of glans together and kept them in place with one hand while he pulled John's foreskin down, stretching and releasing and stretching and releasing again, working the pliable skin gently with the other while John waged a war between his arousal and his curiosity. Once it was lengthened enough to cover both their glans, he pulled John's forward and then began the same process on himself, taking time to stop, breathe and refocus on his goal rather than lose himself in sensation. He pulled his over the top. John looked down at their connection and gaped.

"You... are a clever, clever man."

"That I am."

John closed his eyes and tilted his head back, focusing on feeling not just the most responsive part of his entire body flush against Sherlock's, but the sensation of being wrapped in each other. He needed to see it happening.

John opened his eyes just as Sherlock began to stroke his hand softly over both of them... a slow vibrato. In no time, John was wet as hell, and Sherlock must have been too, because the two of them fused together in a literal bond, stimulating each other in a way which had simply never occurred to John before.

Hands... I should do something with..., John's mind cut through the haze and ran his hands across Sherlock's chest, caressing the high-end cotton that was refined enough to feel like silk, as Sherlock sped the pace. John could feel his cock swell, could feel Sherlock's cock swell, too. Could see his shaft darkening, and Sherlock's, beneath his quickly moving hand. John looked up to see Sherlock staring at him. Eyes like... eyes like Sherlock's fucking eyes,there is no simile better than the actual thing, and he shuddered and squirmed and groaned and thrashed until he saw himself coming coming coming and then he wondered what it must feel like for Sherlock, fused together with John's come trapped around his cock and it must feel bloody magnificent because Sherlock's coming too and oh my God yes! And was that in his head or out loud, because damned if he knew which.

"Oh..oh......oh, John!" Sherlock cried with an immense sigh of relief, before reluctantly separating them and beginning to clean off their cocks, his hand and much of the chair. John moved Sherlock's hand aside, struck with the urge to find out what a mixture of the two of them would taste like, and pushed Sherlock to the floor. His mouth was on him, reversing the momentum of Sherlock's softening cock as it responded to John engulfing him. Sherlock's hands hovered over the back of John's neck, hesitating, wanting, but afraid to grab him tight. John placed those hands on his shoulders and shoved himself forward deeply on Sherlock's behalf. No words were spoken, but the message was clear. It's fine. It's all fine. Sherlock was reduced to an inarticulate string of guttural noise. Listening closely, which by God he did, John could almost decipher the broken syllables as variations of his name.

I'm so glad the boys are finally on the right track! (And sory for not commenting on the previous part, I completely missed it!)

No need to apologize! Yup... took em long enough ;)

Sherlock Holmes knew a great many things about his body. He knew he could stay awake for 73 hours, knew how long he could hold his breath both on land and underwater (1'58" maximum, with lung packing... it had provided him with an excellent motivation to quit smoking... and 3'28" submerged, due to a controlled mammalian diving reflex ), and knew that, in spite of his best efforts, writing produced with his left hand still looked visibly different than with his right. What he did not know, and in fact, never imagined he would have the opportunity to discover, was how long his refractory period was.

He wasn't sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing to have his body ready to go for another round so soon, and if his mind could keep up. John stopped for a moment, concerned. It was not surprising, given Sherlock's previous reaction to this particular act, but this was different. So very different.

"Talk to me, Sherlock. Tell me how it feels."

John's mouth was back on him and Sherlock struggled for speech. "J... Hhhuh...on." John vocalized his approval without removing his mouth and the vibrations elicited a shuddering breath and a sharp jerk of Sherlock's hips. "John. I ... I want you taste you, too. I want to have..." John stopped and kissed his way up his stomach and rested his hands on either side of his head.

"Well then..." John said, as he leaned in and kissed him deeply. Sherlock closed his eyes and his mind began its analysis. It was strange, knowing he was tasting himself, both of them, on John's tongue, and a bit shocking at first. Salty? Bitter? Surely diet would play a factor in... The analysis didn't last very long, because John was kissing him again, probing deeper, and Sherlock became more aware of texture, warmth, and more unquantifiable things. Sherlock kissed him back.

He began the process of overwriting all other kisses. John's previous kiss, from mere hours before, gone. He traveled backwards through time. Victor's, gone; Catherine's, gone; until there was but one sensation filed under 'kiss'. He hummed happily and entirely forgot to mention that this wasn't what he had intended when he had said he wanted to taste John. Well, there would be plenty of time for reciprocity.

John's mouth was perfect; his lips were soft, the pressure was firm. He captured Sherlock's lower lip between his teeth-- hard and soft... flawless-- and pulled back just slightly before releasing it. It was the most perfectly executed movement Sherlock had ever witnessed. Suddenly, Sherlock felt serious doubt. He hadn't even felt this much like a teenager when he was a teenager. He needed to do more. Needed to prove to John, to himself, that he could handle this. He nervously eyed John, who was still largely flaccid.

"My turn to deduce, then, Sherlock?"

Sherlock huffed.

"Well, off hand, I'd guess you are wondering if I'm expecting another go, since you're eyeing me and you think I'm out to reclaim you in the name of John Watson." Sherlock had intended to be scornfully dismissive at John's attempt to read his mind, but was quite surprised to find he was entirely correct.

"I can, if you want. The rest of me is good to go, but anything involving my cock is going to have to wait another 20 to 30 minutes; I'm obviously pretty sated. And, impressively, you're not." Sherlock turned away at this statement.

"Oh. Now you're wondering if that is really a good thing. Well, it gives you options, so of course it is. But, what your body does is not necessarily what your mind wants, so... how about it? I don't need to reclaim you, you see. I never lost you. Did you delete it already? The first time I touched you? The first time I kissed you?"

"No. It doesn't work like that. I don't erase it. I just- choose not to save it where I can access it easily. It's stored somewhere else."

"You can talk to me. You can tell me what happened."

Sherlock hesitated. "No need. It doesn't serve a purpose to discuss it since this particular set of circumstances is a one-time occurrence."

"But, maybe we can get in the habit of... discussing things?"

Sherlock kept it curt. "Too much Mary." He found it embarrassing to say more, and it annoyed him that he was embarrassed. Sex does not alarm me. And it didn't. He had no moral qualms about anyone having as much sex as they wanted with as many people as they wanted. Separately. Together. With accessories. Of course, with Mary, he had good reason not to be trusting, but it occurred to him that maybe John would always want a woman, too. Someone more trustworthy, of course, but maybe he'd want this again.

"I can't do this, John." John was working hard not to jump to conclusions about what "this" meant. He bit his lip to remind him to keep his mouth shut.

"I know people would think I must be disconnected from my body to not have had any sort of sexual relationship for so long. That I must reject the physical plane somehow, or punish myself by strictly controlling sexual release or prohibiting pleasurable rewards. But, in actuality, my body and my mind are entirely too connected. My mind is supreme, my entire body a mere appendix... but that doesn't mean it is utterly useless, only subordinate. My body is the vehicle through which my mind expresses itself, and this time it was... too connected to my mind. I can't offer it to just anyone. Not Mary, certainly, but- not just anyone else either. Just. You." Sherlock frowned and avoided John's questioning gaze.

"And this upsets you?"

"It's childish," he mumbled, running his fingers through his curls while eyeing the weave of the sheet.

"And wanting to go slower? Is that childish?"

This time he met John's gaze, his confidence reestablished by determination to shift away from nebulous emotions to more concrete matters. "I want to try many things. I want to process them all. See what works. Quantify it."

John shook his head and smiled. "Doesn't sound at all childish. Sounds... well, that bit sounds very good, actually." His eyebrows shot up and his smile broadened. Sherlock was transfixed by the little wrinkles that appeared at the edges of his eyes. Smiles lines, they were called. They were fascinating. "And I suppose you wish to line your investigation up with the scientific method?"

"Since I can't rely on replication, I will need increased levels of repetition. For example, kissing."

"Anything for science," John whispered in his ear as he made his way back to his mouth for additional research.

I'm so glad to finally see them happy together! Thank you!

Glad you liked it OP. If you want, I will let you know when my variation on this with the Mary who is redeemed and not so evil story is done? Lmk if you are interested.

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