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John sat in his chair, newspaper in hand as he flicked through the various depressing articles. There didn't seem to be any relevant cases for Sherlock to work on, not that Sherlock seemed too bothered by the lack of work.
Sherlock was quiet, suspiciously quiet.
The detective was lurking somewhere just behind John. He could hear him moving but wasn't aware of how close Sherlock was until he felt his hot breath on his ear,
“John...” Sherlock said, his voice low and deep and incredibly, surprisingly seductive.
Not wanting to whip his head around and almost headbutt Sherlock, John remained still and gave a non-committal “Hmm?” in reply.
“John… Don't turn around” Sherlock warned, his warm exhale tickling down John's neck “I want to talk to you,”
“You can talk to me in your chair,” John said, his voice strained as he focussed on not flinching away from the closeness.
“No, I need you here. Like this. Just like this...” Sherlock practically moaned, “I've been having embarrassing symptoms.”
Suddenly John was concerned, “Oh? What symptoms?” he asked,
“An almost constant arousal,” Sherlock responded, “An ever-present erection and an inability to stop touching my penis”
Heat flamed to John's cheeks as he closed his eyes and exhaled loudly. This was completely mad! Why was Sherlock talking like this?
“I'm sure – ahem, I'm sure its completely normal” John gulped, “I expect that its just residual tension from the last case.”
“I expect it is.” Sherlock hummed in agreement, “It seems to revolve around the tackle that you performed on the suspect. The way your muscles bunched and worked, the tension in your thighs as you held him down. Goodness, John.” Sherlock's voice went breathy and deeper once more “It was exquisite”
“Y-Yeah?” John whispered in reply, his own cock stirring from Sherlock's closeness and his words.
“I found myself masturbating for the first time in months.” Sherlock admitted, “I stroked myself feverishly whilst thinking about you. About your skilful hands and strong muscles, about how it would feel if I was trapped between your thighs. How it would feel to try to struggle and gain the upper hand when you would flip me over and ravish me completely. Oh, it was perfection,”
“Sherlock...” John moaned, head falling back. His eyes were closed much to his relief as he didn't want to see his friend and break whatever spell was between them,
“I ached for you...” the younger man admitted, moving to the other side of John's face to whisper in the other ear, sensitising the skin of John's throat with his breath “I fantasised about your lips on me, kissing along my skin as it tracked the flush of arousal over my chest and throat. Over my ribs and stomach and then down to my groin. You moaned, in my dream. You were eager to get your mouth around me… around my cock” he seemed to elongate the word, clicking his tongue on it.
“Oh fuck,” John moaned, the newspaper dropping to the floor forgotten as his hand moved to cup his erection which strained dramatically against the seam of his denim.
“Oh yes, we would.” Sherlock nodded. John could feel the movement with each bounce of Sherlock's curls against his skin “We would fuck. I've never done it before, but I would with you. Id give myself over to you completely. I'd be in your control. You could take me any way you wanted and id still scream your name as I ejaculated.”
“Sherlock… Jesus fucking Christ” John groaned, rubbing his crotch “If this is a trick...”
“Not a trick,” Sherlock replied, his long fingers finally moving to run across John's chest. The jumper stopped much feeling, but John watched as the long digit progressed from one side of his chest to the other “I want you. I want you to touch me, to taste me, to make me scream your name so loudly that I lose my voice. I want to be stretched around you, I want to taste every inch of your body and swallow your semen to catalogue its taste. I need you inside me, John. More than I need to breathe, I need your cock.”
“Oh...” John moaned, hips tilted up as he stroked and rubbed at himself through his jeans. He was going to come soon and he didn't care that he would soak his trousers like a teenager.
“I want to ride you. I want you to hold my hips until they bruise as you thrust up into my body. I want to soak you with my pre-ejaculate as I rock my hips back and forth.” Sherlock moaned, his voice breathless and desperate as it became obvious that he was touching himself too, “and when I come, I want to do it over your stomach and chest before rubbing it in. I want you to smell like me.”
“Yes,” John nodded rapidly, cheeks flushed and lips open in arousal “Yes, I want that.”
“I want you to come inside me. Fill me up and make me carry you around in me all day. Our little secret.” Sherlock whined, getting closer to his climax “I want you to mark me as yours, bite me and suck on my neck, possess me entirely.”
“Sher – Sherlock...” John croaked, eyes fluttering open as he reached for Sherlock and dragged him awkwardly to meet for a kiss. There was no finesse in the kiss, mostly teeth and tongue but it was all it took for both men to crash over the edge of their orgasms. Sherlock moaned into John's mouth, eyes rolling as he came hard over his own fist, whilst John orgasmed with a grunt, soaking his jeans as he probed Sherlock's mouth with his tongue.
Silence pervaded the air between them as they pulled away from their kiss, breaths panting and cheeks flushed with both nervousness and arousal.
“So…” Sherlock began after a few tense seconds.
“I suggest...” John started, eyes flicking up to look at Sherlock, “Yeah, I suggest you get up and head into your bedroom. I intend on doing everything you listed – as soon as possible.”
The smile on Sherlock's face made John sure that it was going to be a very exciting day indeed.