sherlockbbc_fic | Prompting Part XXXV

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Prompting Part XXXV

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Dusk was turning to velvet darkness as the cab drew up in front of the flat. Sherlock had rested against John during the ride home, frequently nuzzling and pressing his face to John’s neck, gaining comfort from his nearness. The same was true for John, who was reassured by Sherlock’s contented touch. Nevertheless, he remained highly alert, scanning their surroundings for the slightest indication of danger. He would relax only when they were once more in the safety of their home.

“C’mon sweetheart, let’s get you upstairs where I can check your injuries and patch you up if you need it, alright?”

Sherlock nodded and climbed out of the cab but as John had known he would be, he was almost too exhausted to climb the stairs to the flat. John half carried him the final few steps and through the door. At least he hadn’t suffered another episode of heat-fueled sexual desperation since he’d run from the flat, which pleased John who wanted him to be able to sleep and not have to struggle more with the unfamiliar sensations of a heat and the frightening loss of control over his own body.

“Would you like a bath, Sherlock? I can help you wash and we’ll see where you’re hurt.”

Sherlock nodded, so John assisted him to the bathroom. John turned the water on to fill the tub and began to undress Sherlock; his clothes would join the others in the trash bag. John would remove his pistol from the bag for cleaning later and toss the rest of the contents in the bin.

Dirt smudged, bruised and with his usual vitality noticeably absent, Sherlock displayed an unusual vulnerability; his movements were cautious and his manner halting; like someone awakening to find their old body had been replaced by a strange new one with no familiar features. He sank up to his neck in the warm water and rested his head back against the tub with closed eyes. John knelt beside the tub and with soap, started at the top of Sherlock’s head where he would work his way down in his search for injuries. He noted a bruised forehead and temple; pain in Sherlock’s left shoulder from fighting his restraints−John frowned angrily remembering the sight of Sherlock being bound and forced to his knees−and tenderness in his lower abdomen where there was a large red mark, possibly from a boot...
Here John hesitated in his examination. Below the kick mark, he could see Sherlock growing erect rapidly and obviously becoming aroused; he arched his back and twisted his body restlessly, murmuring “John…” in a tone that, had John not already been on his knees, would most certainly have put him there.

“John, please...” Sherlock’s second breathy plea almost undid John completely.

“What is it?” he asked, his voice thick, “What do you need Sherlock?”

“You. Inside me. Deep inside. To fill the emptiness, John.”

“Oh God, Sherlock. I want you too. You know I do! But after what you’ve been through today…this isn’t a good time.”

Sherlock groaned in frustration and turned away, bringing his knees to his chest in a tight clench. “Why not, John?!” he begged, “What is wrong with now?!”

John, torn between concern for Sherlock and fighting his own fiery desire, whispered, “I gave you my word Sherlock that I wouldn't take advantage of you and I intend to keep it." He breathed deeply, "Let me pour some cold water into the bath and get you a cool flannel. It will help you feel better. And it’s okay to touch yourself if you want to, you never have before, I know, but it’s okay to do it, almost everyone does at some time.”
...not that it will help me tonight, John thought, I could wank all night and in the morning still fuck you senseless, my beautiful, perfect Sherlock…

Wow! Equal parts hot and beautifully tender

SO BEAUTIFUL!

:U Poor baby..

John is absolutely amazing!!!

OP here.

As usual, I'm very happy to see this story updated. This is absolutely perfect. Thank you!
John is a very good man; it's great that he treats Sherlock with such respect.

Have you got an AO3 account? Are you going to post this story somewhere we can all fav it when it's done? =)

You readers and OP are wonderful. Thank you so much. I'm glad you like the story. I do have an AO3 account, I have a couple of stories up. I'm Aequoreavictoria. One pseud is BashfulBunny and another is Medusae_Aequorea_victoria. Thanks for encouraging me to post The Reason is You, its not my usual style, but I will for sure now.

John turned on the cold water tap and watched as Sherlock uncurled to lie on his back again in the tub. He kept his face turned away from John and his eyes closed though. He was fully erect now and his chest was starting to flush slightly and his breath come fitfully…clearly his heat was back again in full force.

Even though Sherlock was facing the wall, John could see his expression was unhappy. His heart clenched painfully, “Sherlock?” he asked.

“I don’t know what to do, John…” he said in a humiliated whisper, refusing to look up.

“Well, I don’t think you need any first aid, so why don’t I help you to your bed? Being in heat is nothing shameful, in fact, you are very, very beautiful right now, Sherlock but I understand that it’s upsetting you. Your bed room is private and I think you’ll feel more comfortable there. I’ll get you the cold cloths.”

Sherlock still would not look at him but started to rise from the bath tub so John helped him out. He wrapped him in towels, forcing away thoughts of what Sherlock’s clean, warm skin might feel like under his own eager hands…what Sherlock would taste like on his tongue... Dear Lord, how he wanted to find out! He could smell and almost taste Sherlock's hot scent, he was so close. It would be so easy to close the small distance between them and have what was his. Sherlock would not protest if John were to bend him over his bed now and take him; in his present state he’d welcome John in. John wouldn’t be rough, of course, but he would make sure that no one, especially Sherlock, would ever be able to question who Sherlock belonged to. God, John was a fool to be so noble!

But as quickly as the wave of Alpha aggression hit John, it eased. In Sherlock’s bedroom, he was able to pull Sherlock’s sheets over him with careful hands and say something soothing to him in a voice that almost didn’t shake.

“Will you stay with me John, please?” Sherlock’s voice was ragged and his breathing shallow.

John hesitated, unsure of the limits of his self-control. He’d never been tested to this extent before. But he sat down beside Sherlock on the bed and heard himself say, “Yes, of course if you want me to.”

Sherlock didn’t respond. He was struggling to pull his sheets off, already too hot to bear anything covering him. Once free of the restricting bedding, almost panting now, he spread his thighs and awkwardly grasped his cock. He tugged at himself in frustration, wincing at his own roughness but almost too desperate for relief to care.

“Sherlock, shhh, shhh, easy, love, easy,” crooned John, alarmed at Sherlock’s treatment of himself. He hummed in Sherlock’s ear, trying to relax him, “Try slow and firm movements, and stroke the other way, down toward the base of your cock.”

As he watched Sherlock’s efforts to pleasure himself, he concentrated with all his might on maintaining a physician’s objectiveness. But by God how he, John the man, not the doctor, wanted Sherlock like this! He’d press those thighs apart himself, kneel between them and swallow Sherlock down his throat. John groaned inwardly, Sherlock’s cock was so very beautiful, small and delicate, even for an Omega and John could easily fit him in his mouth. He’d give him pleasure such as Sherlock had never dreamed of...

Sherlock was straining and pushing his hips up off the bed now, frantically rubbing himself and whimpering in need. “John!” he begged.

“Relax, Sherlock and breathe. Slow down, pay attention to where your hand feels best. Try holding the base of your cock with one hand and rubbing with the fingers of your other hand just below the head. Use firm pressure, like you’re giving a massage. That will eliminate the friction on your skin.”

Sherlock obeyed John’s instructions and groaned, throwing back his head and sucking in air with a gasp. “John! Oh God, John, touch me, please!” His eyes flew open and he sought John’s for the first time since the bath. John, unprepared for his gaze and the bolt of blue lightning that burned through every defense he had erected, answered Sherlock’s call by gathering him close and beginning to roughly kiss his open mouth. He held and kissed Sherlock firmly, breathing in the deep groan of Sherlock’s climax and capturing his writhing body as he came.

Oh my god that was sooooo hot. That just...ahem. Well. Thank you.

Gaaaahhhhh! This is so hot!

OP here.

Poor John. How can he even hold himself back?! It looks like he's fighting his nature with everything he's got. Sherlock definitely doesn't make it easier. ;)

Can't wait for more!

Author here: It's only going to get more difficult for John. Heh, heh, heh. I'm enjoying this. Of course he will get his happy ending eventually.

Sherlock moaned and shook once more in John’s arms. A warm slick of lubricant, sweet scented and seductive, flowed over John’s fore arm where he was cradling him on his lap. It was so potent and compelling that it caused John to tremble and cling to him, groaning helplessly and delving deeply into Sherlock’s mouth with his own. When he finally pulled away it was to pant heavily in Sherlock’s ear, “Oh God, Sherlock! God, I want you so badly!”

“Yes! Yes! Please, John. I feel lonely and so empty!” Sherlock curled into a ball in John’s lap and sobbed. “I don’t feel well. It aches, John, I’m empty and alone…Please make it stop!”

“Shhh, shhh, I’ll hold you. It’s alright. It’s just hormones, Sherlock. It will pass quickly, I promise, it will pass, my love.”

Dear God! On top of everything else, why would Sherlock have to be stricken now with an episode of Post-orgasmic Tristesse, of all things!

Sherlock’s instincts were right, if John had been fully penetrating him when he orgasmed, Sherlock would be feeling much differently right now; not empty and unhappy but full, warm and loved… This could be easily addressed if they were to become mates but it wasn’t much help now…

John did what he could to ease Sherlock’s discomfort. He rocked him, applied as much pressure as he could against his entrance, holding his buttocks tightly, and murmured comfort and reassurance into his ear, all the while praying he’d fall asleep quickly, exhausted as he must be from his grueling day. And sure enough, it wasn’t long before his breathing evened out and he went limp in John’s arms. John eased his lax body under the sheets and settled beside him to keep watch until he too fell asleep, sometime near morning.

Another update! *happy dance*

OP here.

John is such a good person. I think Sherlock's going to look at him differently now (well, as soon as he's coherent enough). :)

Thanks for updating!

More please!

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