anarion | Fic: Silence is golden (or not)

Title: Silence is golden (or not)
Words: 1393
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: none
Pairings : Sherlock/John
Beta: the wonderful

verityburns, who even betas her own presents ♥♥♥
Disclaimer: Sadly the characters are not mine and no money is made (that would be sooo cool!).

Summary: "Sherlock usually is rather quiet in bed. So the thing that is about to happen will really (and I mean REALLY) surprise John. And turn him on heavily." PWP prompted by Verity.

Silence is golden (or not)

Sherlock usually is rather quiet in bed. So the thing that is about to happen will really (and I mean REALLY) surprise John. And turn him on heavily.

~°~

John wakes up slowly, snuggled against Sherlock’s chest, Sherlock’s arm dropped over his torso. He opens his eyes and realises that for the first time in weeks there is nowhere they need to be and nothing they have to do.

He contemplates going back to sleep, but Sherlock suddenly makes a small, content noise and moves so that his mouth is pressed against John’s skin.

John smiles and carefully turns around. He decides that they are going to spend the entire morning in bed, cuddling and making out, then have breakfast and that he will make love to Sherlock before this day is over.

His heart starts beating a little faster at the thought of that. What they have is still new and a little frightening, it only started a few days ago. And with two cases at once, their flat not liveable because of the detoxication (and the resulting relocation into a rented room) and Lestrade’s daughter getting married there had not been time for anything than kissing, cuddling and a few hand- and blowjobs.

Sherlock opens one eye and blinks at him.

“Stop thinking. You are making me nervous.”

John laughs softly and leans over to kiss Sherlock. He soon realises that the other man is still too sleepy for anything coordinated, so he moves down his body, kissing, licking and nibbling every inch of skin. By the time John reaches his hip, Sherlock is wide awake and softly panting.

John crawls back up and claims Sherlock’s lips while at the same time pressing their bodies together and running his left hand down Sherlock’s back till he reaches his bum.

He nibbles at Sherlock’s lower lip and kneads his bum cheek until his lover opens his mouth with a low sigh and their tongues meet.

John loses focus for a few minutes and just concentrates on kissing and breathing. Then he gently pushes his leg between Sherlock’s and kisses a line of open-mouthed kisses along the other man’s jaw down to his neck.

He moves his hand further down between Sherlock’s cheeks and finds the soft, highly sensitive ring of muscles. Sherlock huffs and leans back.

“John, this is a really bad idea.”

“You don’t like being touched there? Do you want me to stop?”

“No, I am just saying that this is a really bad idea.”

John’s finger twitches involuntary and Sherlock arches into the touch, his eyes fluttering shut, and John doesn’t care anymore. He caresses the spot until the man in his arms is shaking and his breath is coming in little puffs.

John returns his attention to Sherlock’s mouth while he grabs the lube and slicks up his finger. Sherlock’s brain clearly uses the short break to kick back in and he makes another (albeit weak) attempt at stopping John.

John just shushes him and puts his hand back to slowly push one finger in. Sherlock groans and bites his lip. For some reason there is a small smile at the corner of his mouth.

John waits until he can feel the muscles around his finger relax and starts a slow in-and-out movement, at the same time rubbing his cock against Sherlock’s. It feels amazing and is exactly the lazy morning making out he had in mind.

Well, it is lazy until John lets his finger brush Sherlock’s prostate.

Sherlock’s whole body jerks and he lets out something between a moan and a yelp. Which goes straight to John’s cock.

He needs to hear this sound again! At the same time he remembers that the walls of their rented room are insanely thin, so he presses his lips to Sherlock’s, hoping to muffle the sound.

When he moves his finger again, he can feel Sherlock’s lips open under his own and he swallows the moan, rocking his hips at the same time.

He wants to keep this up, wants to drink all these throaty moans, wants to get drunk on them, but at the same time he most desperately wants to take Sherlock and be inside him.

But his common sense gets the better of him and he stops moving. Before he can do anything else, Sherlock’s eyes fly open.

“Don’t you dare.”

“We can’t do this, you’re making too much noise.”

“I’ll be quiet... er.”

Sherlock rolls his hips, his body pulling John’s finger in, and presses his cock against John’s. Then he wraps his hand around them both. And with that, common sense gets chucked out of the room.

“Oh God, Sherlock. You’re going to kill me.”

Sherlock just grins and presses his face against John’s shoulder, before moving his hand again.

John loses himself in all the sensations: Sherlock’s hand and cock against his own, Sherlock’s body clenching around his finger, the muffled moans against his skin.

He surfaces again when Sherlock bites his shoulder after he adds another finger.

Which inspires him to add a third after a few strokes, causing Sherlock to completely lose it. His hands flail a little before he digs his fingers into John’s skin, throws his head back and groans loudly.

John is pretty sure that he has never been that hard before. Or that frustrated with the need to be quiet. He needs to get off desperately. The way Sherlock looks right now this will be over soon anyway.

John sucks a mark onto Sherlock’s shoulder and grinds his hips. He growls when nails scratch over his back and pushes his fingers back in, until Sherlock is clinging to him helplessly, too breathless to even moan.

“John! Please.”

“Sh, it’s ok, stop thrashing, I’ve got you.”

He stops his onslaught on Sherlock’s body for a moment and tries to decide how to end this. He doesn’t want to lose focus through his own orgasm, so either hand or mouth. He is still busy trying to figure out what makes more sense logistically when Sherlock takes a deep breath.

“Oh no, don’t even think about it. This is not ending any other way than with you inside me.”

“Wh... Sher... Are you sure?”

“John, just fuck me already!”

It takes a few uncoordinated attempts to get the lube and the condoms and position them on the bed, complicated by the fact that Sherlock seems incapable of moving.

While John still wants to be gentle and pushes in slowly, his lover is clearly beyond that point and shoves back impatiently, so that John is suddenly buried deep inside him.

He is completely overwhelmed by the feeling of Sherlock’s body surrounding him and he is so close to falling apart that he needs to take a few breaths to calm himself down. His hands grip the other man’s hips so hard that he will have bruises and both men are shaking with want.

“John, please. Move.”

“Yes... I... God, you feel amazing.”

“Now.”

John starts to move, deep strokes with a little twitch at the end that hit Sherlock’s prostate at the exact right angle to reduce him to a quivering, moaning mass.

It takes a few seconds for John to realise that Sherlock has pushed his face into the pillow and the loud moans that fill the room are his own. He doesn’t care.

He feels his orgasm approaching fast, so he grabs Sherlock’s cock and starts stroking in rhythm with his movements. It only takes a few strokes before Sherlock throws his head back and roars John’s name.

John feels Sherlock’s body convulse around him and he comes with a strangled shout. Then everything goes white.

When the world comes back, he is lying next to Sherlock, there is banging against the wall and people shouting insults. Sherlock just grins at him.

“I tried to tell you that this was a bad idea.”

“This was ridiculous. And not what I imagined our first time to be like.”

“Are you disappointed?”

“What? No! That was amazing. I can’t wait to get back home and do it again.”

They grin at each other, then Sherlock leans over and kisses him.

“You can still make love to me tenderly like you imagined earlier.”

“Stop reading my mind.”

“Why? I like it there.”

John laughs and lets himself be pulled into Sherlock’s arms.

____________________________

AN: atlinmerrick posted this on her tumblr. And since I am easily prompted by everything verityburns says, I sat down and wrote this. Thanks to sheltinka who threw fingering in the mix.

This was supposed to be something short, I was thinking 600 words. Yeah, that didn't work out so well. Verity, what have you done to me? ;)

Current Location: in bed (sick)
Current Music: Jay Brannan