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“Okay, Sherlock, are you ready?” John tugged on the edges of his partner's blindfold, checking it and ensuring that it was secured around his eyes.
“As I'll ever be, John,” he replied with a touch of impatience. “Would you kindly get this going?”
John put a hand on his shoulder. He was well accustomed to a level of snark from Sherlock, but in this moment, he knew it was a cover for nervousness. “Love, if you don't want to do this now, we don't have to.”
“Yes, John, I'm fully aware of that.” He tapped his fingers on his side repetitively. “I just would prefer to be sitting down.”
“Do you trust me enough to lead you to a chair?”
“Wholeheartedly and eagerly.”
John chuckled. “You're afraid of falling?”
“Without knowing what I could fall into, yes.”
“Don't worry, love.” He kissed his shoulder. “You'll be sitting in no time. Are you ready?” he asked again, rolling the foam ear plugs between his fingers.
Sherlock paused a moment, shifting on his feet and bracing himself. “Yes, John. Go ahead.”
“Remember your safeword? And in case you can't speak?”
“ 'Honeycomb' and 'three snaps'.”
“Okay.” John slid the plugs into both of Sherlock's ears and stepped back.
John watched as Sherlock tensed, not leaning his body or moving his head. He took deep breaths, steadying himself, and John waited a moment more before reaching out for him. His fingertips traced long lines from his collarbone to his navel. Sherlock half-giggled, half-gasped, a blush and a small smile spreading on his face. John slipped his hand behind him, grabbing hold of Sherlock's firm, naked arse and then slapping it. Sherlock started and made to step forward but John stopped him, putting his free hand on his chest and pushing him back enough to keep him in place. He repeated the grab and spank, and Sherlock pressed forward again, but this time had nowhere to go. John wrapped his arms around Sherlock, running his hands down his back and holding his warm, bare body against his lover's. Sherlock returned the gesture with a hum of contentment. John squeezed for a second more, then stepped back.
He took Sherlock's hand and pulled him forward a few steps. Sherlock nervously moved in the direction he was given, his steps slow and deliberate and his grasp on John's hand rather tight. John let him walk a few more steps, then stopped him. He lowered himself to his knees and placed his hands on Sherlock's inner thighs. Sherlock let out a startled cry as John moved his hands up and took his soft cock into his mouth. It quickly swelled and John lifted his head, letting the tip rest against his lips and licking around the edge of his foreskin. He brought his hands up further and stroked between his legs, teasing the crack of his arse while tonguing up and down his cock. Sherlock whined, balling his hands into fists and tilting his head back. He trembled and held very still, and John knew that even though Sherlock could stand there and take what he was dishing, he certainly didn't want to. He kissed Sherlock's hip before standing up and taking his hand again.
This time, he turned him around and backed him up to the sofa. Sherlock's leg tapped against it and he made to sit, but John beat him to it and pushed him down. There wasn't enough force to hurt him but it did make him gasp aloud. John knelt in front of him and spread him again. With much more vigor, he sucked on Sherlock's cock, drawing a medley of whimpers, groans, and one loud “Fuck!” from him. He made to grab his head and guide him but John grabbed that hand and pinned it to his side. For good measure, he did the same to the other that was curled up beside him.
“John!” cried Sherlock, a little too loudly because he could not hear himself properly. He pushed his hips forward. John let his cock pop free from his mouth and Sherlock whined.
“Please, John!”
He chuckled, letting Sherlock's hands go. Sherlock kept them in place but moved his hips forward, wordlessly begging John to suck him again. John grabbed his legs and pushed him back. He lifted his legs up and spread them further. Sherlock's feet were now resting on the sofa cushions and his legs were pressed back and out. He buried his face between his legs, nibbling and licking and slipping his tongue into his arsehole on and off. Sherlock's whimpers grew louder and more desperate. He lifted his hips, and John pulled him closer. He keened, clenching and unclenching his hands and riding against John's face. When John was sure he was read to cum, he pulled back. He repositioned his legs so Sherlock sat normally, and then pulled his head forward. With both of his hands on the back of Sherlock's head, he guided his mouth onto John's untouched cock. Sherlock opened his mouth eagerly.
“God, you're so bloody good at that, you cock-sucking fuck,” he groaned. John stroked his cheeks and tugged on his curls to keep him going. Sherlock's mouth and throat were warm and tight, and John could thing of nothing else but shooting his load right down that throat. He lifted one leg and braced it on the sofa by Sherlock's knee, giving him more leverage to thrust into his mouth.
Sherlock reached and grabbed John's cock, pumping it into his mouth as he sucked, and that was enough for John. He pulled on Sherlock's ear, a little sharply and hastily, and Sherlock barely had time to ready himself as John blew his load all into Sherlock's tight mouth. John grunted and growled with each thrust, and every time his mouth tightened more, he groaned. When he finished and could stand to breathe again, he pulled his cock out of Sherlock's mouth and tapped his face with it. A few droplets of cum lingered and smeared on his cheekbone.
John grinned and reached towards the end table, pulling off it the bottle of lube they kept there. He covered his first finger in it, and then abruptly yanked Sherlock's legs forward. He slid down and his arse hung over the edge of the couch. John spread his cheeks, now so much more available than before. He licked, tickled and teased with his tongue a moment more before circling the tight hole with his slick finger. Slowly, he slipped it in, and Sherlock began to keen again. He slowly thrusted until he was up to his knuckle. Then he pulled out and slipped his second finger in. While he began to piston in and out of Sherlock, he sucked on his cock again, giving him a warm, enveloping pleasure as well as a penetrating one. Sherlock thrusted back and forth, between the back of John's throat and his hand under his arse. He whimpered.
“Oh god, John, John I'm going to cum John John Joooooooooooooooohn!” screamed Sherlock, pulling his cock out just in time to paint John's lips with his sticky cum. As each spurt came, John sped up and kept the pleasure going as long as he could, before sliding his fingers out and placing a sticky hand on Sherlocks' thigh. He tapped twice. Done? Sherlock nodded and reached to take his ear plugs out.
“How was that, love?” John asked, wiping his face and climbing to sit beside his Sherlock and wrap his arms around him.
Sherlock slowly removed the blindfold and looked at him sheepishly. “I...I rather enjoyed that.”
“Well I certainly hope so.” He kissed Sherlock on the cheek and neck, nuzzling him until he giggled and tried to swat him away.