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“I want to ride you.” John’s eyes are dark, his pupils enormous, his face inches above Sherlock, hovering over him in bed.
The words take Sherlock completely by surprise. In fact, they downright shock him.
This is not something he and John do. Have ever done. Sherlock has topped a handful of times in the course of their romantic relationship which has been ongoing for just over a year, but never this way.
It’s not as though Sherlock would be against topping more often or that John would be against bottoming, it is simply that most of the time they naturally fall into the positions they are the most comfortable with. So this evening, when John suggested that Sherlock tops from the bottom, it was more than a little surprising.
Sherlock was further surprised (and ridiculously turned on) with the discovery of a large dildo thoroughly plugging John’s arse when the stark naked man met him at the door as he arrived home. A delicate shiver ran down Sherlock’s spine when he discovered that bit.
And now…this.
“How do you want me?” Sherlock realizes his voice is beyond husky at the moment. He sounds like he is both extremely aroused and like he’s smoked several cigarettes today. While only the former is true, the latter is something he could certainly use right now.
Either way, Sherlock is ready for John to demand what he wants from him.
“Lie down,” John commands. It’s irresistibly sexy. Sherlock obeys immediately, lying on his back, his cock hard and red, jutting upwards enthusiastically. John glances at it, raises an eyebrow, and gives an encouraging smirk. Sherlock feels himself pulse at the attention. John clearly sees it because his smirk becomes a full-on grin and Sherlock flushes.
“Keen, are we?”
“John, my cock is currently pointing at my own face. Y-yes, I would say we are.”
John giggles, then gestures to his own cock, which is heavy and full and pointing at Sherlock’s face as well. “At least we’re in a similar state-” John suddenly cuts off, his face darkening and forehead wrinkling. Sherlock wonders what is happening, but then John moans softly. Sherlock moans in sympathy and tugs on his own balls. The plug must’ve shifted inside of John, he realizes with another pulse of arousal.
Suddenly, John has closed the distance between them and crawled on top of Sherlock.
“Please- I can’t wait anymore.” Sherlock is slightly alarmed at how quickly this has escalated, but if it means he gets to have John on him and around him, he’s on board.
“How….how should we do this?” Sherlock feels slightly nervous which only serves to make him embarrassed, but John just smiles knowingly. Clever man.
“Well, that depends. Firstly, do you want me to tie you up?” Sherlock nearly comes apart then and there at the thought of being powerless underneath John, and god YES he wants that, but…
“Not this time, if that’s all right. I really want that…very much…but, this is the first time we’ve done this and…”
John cuts Sherlock off by kissing him. “I get it, sweetheart. And I kind of want your hands free to grab at me anyway. But NEXT time-”
“Yes!” Sherlock cannot help his exclamation. He’s just excited there will be a next time, much less one in which he’s bound by an army captain, helpless to his sexual whims…
Okay, this is getting out of hand, Sherlock scolds himself. You cannot come before you’ve even breached John. Get a hold of yourself, man. You’re not a bloody teenager.
But oh, he feels like one in this moment as John reaches behind him and gently eases the thick plug from his arse, groaning as the slick dildo leaves him, his eyes shut tightly and brow furrowed.
A soft cry escapes Sherlock and he pulls John atop himself, sucking at his lips and tongue, now desperate to be inside of the man.
“Sherlock,” John whines, actually whines, his voice needy. “I feel so empty now. Put your cock in me. Please.”
Oh fuck yes he will thank-you-very-much, no please needed, just a bit of lube and John’s warm arse and it will be ready set match.
Sherlock shakes away his jumbled thoughts and shushes his inner teenager. There’s time for that level of enthusiasm later.
Okay, lube. He reaches and retrieves it from the nightstand, slicking himself up with minimal touching, ready to go off like a rocket at any moment. John is still above him, open and ready and wanting and whining.
Sherlock grasps his cock to line himself up and grips John’s hip with his other hand, slowly easing John down until the man’s arse is resting on Sherlock’s hips.
Je-sus-Cris-toff John is tight. Sherlock fights against a compulsion to thrust upward and waits not-so-patiently for John to begin moving.
“Sherlock?” John sounds as though he’s just finished a marathon.
“Yeah?”
“I need to move.”
“Thank fucking heavens.”
John giggles again but it quickly turns into loud moaning as he slowly moves up and down, Sherlock’s erection spearing him over and over again. Sherlock grips the bedsheets and tries not to come. But it’s a losing battle. John is milking him, bringing him inexorably closer to orgasm with each movement he makes. Sherlock is caught in a riptide and the waves of pleasure are threatening to wash him away at any moment.
“John, I-” Sherlock begins, a note of warning in his voice.
And then John grips his own cock and begins pulling furiously, and he is BOUNCING on Sherlock, and Sherlock is lost. He grabs onto John’s hips and fucks into him helplessly, unable to do anything but seek out his climax.
He must be doing something right because John’s making little “ah, ah” noises interspersed with “Yes” and “Sherlock!” but Sherlock is beyond holding back and his orgasm crashes into him like a double decker bus, his back bowing deeply as he feels himself pulse and spurt wetly into John’s arse, groaning in relief and mild shame that he couldn’t hold out for John.
But Sherlock realizes it’s an unnecessary worry as John’s eyes darken even further from watching him hit his peak. John’s arse flutters, then clenches rhythmically around Sherlock’s softening cock as he cries out. His cock jerks spasmodically in his hand and paints Sherlock’s chest and torso with ropes of come.
“God, Sherlock I could FEEL you throbbing,” John says as he collapses against Sherlock’s chest. “I could feel you coming. You came so hard, baby.” John is breathless and sated and extremely cuddly and affectionate. Which is par for the course anytime he’s just had an orgasm. Sherlock loves it. This prickly bisexual grump with trust issues being so soft and warm and loving.
Sherlock’s now flaccid cock slips from John’s arse and he rolls them onto their sides, facing one another. He cannot help reaching back and plugging a finger into John, feeling his own come leaking out around him. A primal thrill goes up his spine at having a part of himself inside of John, as it has the other times he’s topped. He cannot help the caveman impulse he has to simply plug John with the dildo again so his come cannot escape.
He won’t do that of course, John is completely spent and well on his way to a post-coital nap (also typical of him; Sherlock tends to feel oddly energetic and talkative after getting off, while John has the historic “man” behavior of becoming sleepy and lethargic).
Instead, Sherlock kisses him softly and says
“Don’t clean up tonight.”
John responds to the kissing even though he’s half-asleep. “Wasn’t planning on it. You like having your come in me, hmm?”
“Very much so.”
“Dirty man.”
Sherlock continues to gently prod at John’s opening as John begins lightly snoring. Sherlock cannot keep himself from placing a kiss on his perfect nose and marveling at the smooth lines of his peaceful face. How he loves this man!
But soon, John will wake and be his lovely, grumpy self, stomping around and wanting food. Sherlock detaches himself from John gently. The least he can do is cook something up to satisfy his soon-to-be-hangry boyfriend.
And he knows just the thing to make.
Something with peas.