Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Nnng, John, please be g-gentle.” Sherlock’s voice came out very low, but still, a bit shaky. Mycroft was so right when he implied that sex was an alarming thing for his dear brother. It was remarkable how much Sherlock was trembling when they managed to get past his bedroom door.

It wasn’t because Sherlock was afraid or unsure of doing that. But, while being the most observant man in the whole world, he was also the most sensitive. A single touch in the right place, with right pressure and in the right way would make him hard and start panting.

On another hand, and ironically enough, John Watson was such a tease.  He would take his time, slowly enough to get one desperate, but not so slowly that would make the whole thing be a boring waste of time. He was very precise on this matter that anyone could say that his control of speed was practically military, yet utterly subtle.

Sherlock is nothing but impatient while his lover keeps palming him against two layers of fabric.

“J-john, I swear… if you don’t hurry…” I will reverse our positions and just fuck you into oblivion, he thinks but doesn’t finish, his mind too busy savouring the sensations, the things that John does to him, the dear Watson obfuscating his whole being with too many and complicated new feelings that he never experienced in his lonely life. Sherlock hisses under his administrations, while his pants are getting so tight that it almost aches.

John inclines himself forward.

“Do you know what?” He whispers huskily on Sherlock’s ear. “You’re a terrible liar. You said that it doesn’t alarm you, and, oh, look at you. You’re trembling and I didn’t even start with the fun.”

“I-I’m not… alarmed… it’s just… aah… my pants are making me uncomfortable right now. Just… get rid of them… aah… hurry.”

“You didn’t ask properly.”

“Please...” He attempts, but his voice comes out so weakly that it’s barely audible.

“Oh, c’mon, you can do that. Ask.”

“Please... just suck me already.”

“Well, that’s better.” John smiles. Sherlock is a mess of emotions beneath him. John loves the feeling of having outsmarted the man in something, finally.

Still, John is a tease. He undoes Sherlock’s belt slowly, while still teasing him with the other hand. He gets rid of the trousers, but leaves the pants on. He gets down and breathes in the musk scent. Sherlock just let out a frustrated moan of expectation. It’s so much and John isn’t even helping, just taking advantage of his actual state.

Sherlock decides that he can’t take that anymore.

Angrily, he grips John’s shoulders, sliding to his hands and quickly immobilizing them on his back. The smaller man is confused at the sudden act.

“Sherlock… wha-“

“I’m not having this tonight. You. Slowly taking all that you can take from me.” Sherlock searches for his scarf with one hand, the other still immobilizing a very confused John. When he finally gets a hold of it, he almost immediately starts tying John’s hands. His stare is intense as he talks. “You’ll not have me begging.”

He flips the blonde and gets behind him, aggressively grabbing his hips. He gets rid of his own pants and lets out a relived sigh. Sherlock doesn’t even care about preparing John for what is to come. The taller man works fast on his lover’s belt and quickly pulls both his trousers and pants down to the other’s thighs. He positions himself and enters John, who lets out a cry of pain.

“Sherlock… it… hurts… no, please… stop.”

However, Sherlock doesn’t answer.

The pain is almost unbearable. John is pretty sure that he’s not going to even sit properly for some good weeks. He wants it to stop, but he can’t do anything with his hands tied on his back. Yet through the pain, Sherlock’s moans behind him are driving him crazily to the edge.

“Sherlock… please… oh fuck”

Sherlock still says nothing other than moans, now burying his head into John’s shoulder blades.

“Sher-Sherlock… can you… just… aah…”

Sherlock finally gives up on not speaking.

“You… have… to… ask.”

“Just… touch me already… fuck… please.”

The next thing that John knows is that Sherlock’s long fingers are around his shaft, going up and down in an expertly manner, often stopping to caress the head.

“Oh John… John… I… John…!” Sherlock comes, still stroking John erratically, but the best he can. The way that he huskily cries out John’s name while doing so is so breath-taking that it’s enough to make John also come. They both collapse, panting heavily.

Sherlock pulls out slowly as he can. John hisses because of the pain on his lower back.

“John… are you… okay?”

“No. It still hurts. Why… why did you even…”

“I couldn’t take it anymore.”

Sherlock reaches for the tissue box on the nightstand. He cleans himself and his lover without a single word between them. He unties John and pulls the duvet over them. He brings John closer to his chest.

“I’m sorry, John.” He whispers.

“Are you apologizing for angry sex or…?”

“I’m apologizing for everything.”

“What?”

“You’re always the patient one of the two of us. Although you don’t seem to care, I’m worried. Are you sure that you still… want me… us… to be together like this?”

“I thought that it was clear by now that I can’t go back on this. I can’t let you go away. I love you, despite anything you do. Yet… I think that I won’t be able to sit for some good weeks.”

“I’m sorry for that.”

“Stop apologizing.”

“But I’m sorry. Really, I mean it.”

John shifts a bit to look up at him. Sherlock has tears on the corner of his gorgeous aquamarine eyes that he’s trying to hold back.

“You don’t need to cry. Just… no. Stop this.”

“But I love you too much and I don’t think I’m able to show you how much I love you. It bothers me so much.” He sobs to hold back the tears.

“Oh Sherlock…”

“How do I show you, John?” Sherlock bites his lower lip.

John reaches up to wipe his lover’s tears.

“You don’t need to. You brought me back into life on the moment that you suggested that we should share a flat and it turned out that you’re a madman that can solve a crime like it was just a game. I don’t need anything else… or anyone else. I love you.”

“I… I love you too.” Sherlock whispers, shakily.

There’s a moment of silence where John just keep caressing the dark curls of Sherlock’s head while still keeping eye contact.

“Now, we should be asleep.” He suggests. The taller man nods.

John turns out the lamp on their nightstand. He curls up into Sherlock’s chest. It feels safe and warm.

“Goodnight, John.”

“Goodnight, love.”

“You just… called me…”

“Yes. Now go to sleep. I love you.”

“I love you too.”