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Two hours. Two hours Sherlock had been sitting there in front of his computer doing something. Most likely researching something, John thought. But Sherlock was ignoring him. For two hours John had been neglected! He didn't like it very much. He decided he was going to get Sherlock's attention back, one way or another.
Sherlock hadn't exactly been expecting so many studies. Sure, fecal bacteria was a controversial thing in Sherlock's small web circle, but still, there were a lot of studies. It had taken him quite a bit of time to read all of them and process them. Some of them were so drastically impossible that it hurt Sherlock to read them.
But the one thing that took him an eternity to process was what happened when he looked up.
"Sherlock," John said. Usually, when Sherlock was focused, everything else was blurry and out of focus but John was always clear. Even before they... started dating. Every time he thought of John as his boyfriend, he smiled. It made him so happy to finally be with John, the love of his life.
"Sherlock," John called again. Shit. He hadn't looked up. His head shot up.
"Yes?" he asked. When Sherlock processed what he was looking at, everything stopped.
John was wearing blue latex gloves, the kind he used to wear at the clinic. He had a white coat on, one that made him look like a doctor from Grey's Anatomy. He was glaring down at Sherlock. "How about you get up and come help me clean up that war zone you've made over there?" he said, pointing to the table where Sherlock kept his cylinders and chemicals.
Sherlock missed about every word John said. He was getting flashbacks from his last year in uni when he rented that video of a doctor who bent his patient over the table and proceeded to- TABLE.
Sherlock looked at the table where John had walked to. He'd probably given up on Sherlock. The detective wasn't about to let that get away from him.
He practically leaped over the back of his chair and dashed over to John. He'd already started cleaning up some of the tubes Sherlock had spread over the table. He sniffed one and recoiled, right back into Sherlock's chest. He tensed up and turned. He looked up at Sherlock. "What?" he demanded.
Sherlock smiled. "I want to help," he said, trying to sound innocent.
John rolled his eyes, then turned again. "Should've taken me up on my offer earlier," he muttered then picked up another cylinder and moved it.
Sherlock was persistent. He leaned his head on the back of John's and let his warm breath move down John's neck. The man shivered, and Sherlock smirked.
John turned back to Sherlock. He roughly shoved the glass cylinder into his chest. "Take this and put it somewhere safe," he ordered. Sherlock took the cylinder and marched away with it. Soon as he turned the corner and John could no longer see him, he ran to their bedroom, threw the glass tube on the bed and raced back.
John was now standing with his hands on the table, head hanging low. Sherlock shook his head and inhaled, expelling all the thoughts from his head. He stood behind John and wrapped his arms around him. John sighed in his arms and relaxed. Sherlock smiled. "Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yeah," John said. He turned to face Sherlock. "I was just getting jealous," he said.
Sherlock chuckled. "Of what?"
"Your laptop."
"My laptop?"
"Yes," John defended. "You were spending a lot of time on it and not with me," he said.
Sherlock laughed and smiled fondly. He kissed John's cheek. "Just tell me if I'm not spending enough time with you, and I'll change that," he said.
John smiled and pulled Sherlock in for another kiss. "Thank you."
Sherlock missed that because of John's hand against his skin. The latex was cold against skin, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
John looked up at Sherlock. "Thank you?" he repeated. "Sherlock?" John looked his boyfriend over and noticed the signs. Well, the signs and the tent in his dark trousers.
Sherlock felt John's hand slip away and feared John was going to ask him what was wrong. But, when John pulled Sherlock in for another kiss, this one with his expert tongue, he knew he wouldn't have to answer that question.
John pulled away and licked at his upper lip. He smirked as he watched Sherlock try to control his breathing. "What is it, the coat or the gloves?" he asked.
"A bit of both," Sherlock admitted.
John smirked. He pulled at one of his gloves and watched for Sherlock's reaction. The man shook his head slightly, subconsciously telling John to not do that. "You really like the gloves?" John asked.
"Yes," Sherlock whimpered. He really did. He wanted John's gloved fingers all over him.
John leaned in and slowly kissed Sherlock. He nibbled at his lower lip gently, making sure to tease the detective just enough.
"Fuck," Sherlock gasped as John kissed down his neck. He sucked on the skin occasionally. He liked spreading out the hickeys he gave Sherlock. Made for a much more fun game of "hide the evidence".
Sherlock leaned his head back so John had more room to play with his skin. John smirked against his skin and continued to kiss Sherlock’s neck. He sucked just below Sherlock’s Adam’s Apple, making the man whimper.
He pulled away, staring up at Sherlock with that smirk. “Oh, love,” He teased. "I can already see the bruises forming."
Sherlock shuddered as John ran a finger down his neck. He slowly began unbuttoning the detective's shirt, slowly, as if he wanted to see how long he could go until Sherlock snapped.
Sherlock shaved his chest hair- he liked being hairless, it made him feel clean- so his chest was a blank canvas. John kissed it as he finished off the last of Sherlock's buttons. Sherlock shivered. John smiled as he looked up at Sherlock. “Calm down, love. I’ve barely even started,” he said.
Sherlock frowned and broke his gaze from John’s. John stood up and took Sherlock’s chin in his hand, turning him to look at him. “It’s okay to be sensitive,” he said. “I like that you’re all sensitive.”
Sherlock blushed and kissed John again. John swept his tongue across Sherlock’s lower lip. Sherlock let John’s tongue in and felt him caress every inch of his mouth.
John took hold of Sherlock by his hair and turned them around, so Sherlock was up against the table. “Like this?” John asked.
“Yes please,” Sherlock murmured.
John smirked and kissed his boyfriend again, holding him steady by his curls. One of his hands gripped Sherlock’s hips and flipped him around.
Sherlock cried out as he was shoved down against the table. Sherlock could feel John pressing himself against his arse, and God was it a good feeling. He could feel every inch John’s thick, long cock. He wanted it so badly.
Unconsciously, he bucked against it. John’s hands stilled him. “Not yet, sweetheart. Not yet. First, we’re going to have a little fun,” John said.
Sherlock could practically hear the smirk in John’s voice. “What kind of fun?” he asked, throat nervously dry and tight.
“Any kind you want,” John said. He leaned forwards, trapping Sherlock between his back and the table. He licked the shell of the detective’s ear. “Does that sound good?” he asked.
Sherlock moaned out his answer. “Yes.”
John chuckled and pulled back, keeping his groin pressed up against Sherlock. “What do you want to do?” he asked.
Sherlock gulped. “I want you to...”
John waited for Sherlock’s answer. When he didn’t reply, John pinched his arse. “Excuse me?”
Sherlock yelped at the tight squeeze of John’s fingers. “I want you to fuck me, Dr. Watson!” he spouted out without thinking. John released his arse, and Sherlock sighed. He rested his head down on the table. He looked up at John through the corner of his eye. “Sorry,” he said, barely a whisper.
John smirked. He kissed Sherlock’s temple. “It’s okay. I liked the Dr. Watson.”
Sherlock blushed and hid his face from John. He knew exactly what to say to make Sherlock become putty in his hands.
Sherlock frowned and pouted as he felt the weight of John vanish. He looked back and saw John walking down the hall.
Before he disappeared into their bedroom, John turned to look at him. “Stay,” he ordered. “I’ll be right back to deal with my favorite patient.” With that, John winked and left Sherlock to whimper at the thought of what John was getting.
John finally came back with a tube of lube. “Have you been good while I was gone?” John asked. He saw that Sherlock had not moved. “Oh, you have,” he said. He set the lube on the table and roamed his hands down Sherlock’s back until they landed at his arse. He slowly massaged Sherlock’s full cheeks. “Is this good?” he asked.
“No,” Sherlock said.
“No?” John asked.
“I still have my pants on.”
John laughed. The detective had quite a clever tongue, and it never ceased to make him smile. “Well, let me fix that then,” John said and pulled Sherlock’s trousers and pants down to his ankles.
Sherlock gasped and shuddered as the cool air hit his exposed skin. John didn’t touch him for a long while. “John?” Sherlock asked nervously. He looked back and saw John was taking in the sight of him.
John snapped out of his gaze and grinned at Sherlock. “Yes, darling?”
“What are you doing?” Sherlock asked.
“I’m trying to decide what to do with you but I keep getting distracted by this,” John said, stroking his hand down the side of Sherlock’s left arse cheek. Sherlock’s thighs quivered. “Oh, I forgot you liked these,” John said, pulling the finger of his glove off before snapping it back in place. “I think I know what to do now.” John’s voice was rough, almost threatening, like he was going to wreck Sherlock. He wanted that.
Sherlock gulped as John grabbed the lube. He heard it being squirted out and then the delicious squeak of John’s gloves as he rubbed the lube in his hands.
“Oh, John!” Sherlock cried out as John pushed a finger into his tight hole.
John slowly pulled his finger out before pushing it back in. “You’re tight, love. Did your body forgot how I felt?” John asked as he pumped his finger slowly.
Sherlock shook his head. “Never.”
John chuckled as he continued to work his finger in and out of Sherlock. “I love you,” he said.
“I love you too,” Sherlock said, feeling his heart- and cock- swell.
John glanced down at his boyfriend’s length. “I can’t wait to fuck you,” he growled and Sherlock’s cock dripped.
“Oh yes,” Sherlock whined and began to whine as John pushed a second finger in.
John scissored his way into Sherlock’s body. His other hand ran up Sherlock’s back to his curls, which he began to twirl around his fingers.
“Think you’re loose enough now?” John asked. Sherlock shook his head eagerly but John clicked his tongue as he crooked his fingers in Sherlock’s arse. “I don’t think so. But don’t worry, I’ll loosen you up in no time.”
With that, John dropped to his knees and jabbed his tongue into Sherlock’s desperate arsehole. Sherlock cried out and jumped as John’s warm tongue lapped and licked at his arse. “Oh God, John, Dr. Watson, yes, yes,” Sherlock moaned.
John ravaged Sherlock’s arse, spreading his cheeks and sticking his tongue as deep as he could before twirling it in Sherlock’s wet hole. Sherlock quivered and moaned helplessly. Fuck, if his boyfriend wasn’t the best at pleasuring him.
John pulled his head away and admired the quivering mess he’d made of Sherlock. “Aww, too much?” he teased, voice rippling through Sherlock’s body down to his throbbing erection. “Do you want more?” John asked.
Sherlock nodded. “Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Please.”
“Please?”
“Yes please, Dr. Watson,” Sherlock said, huffing in frustration. All he wanted was John and none of this teasing.
John chuckled and kissed Sherlock’s neck. “Good boy. Now,” John said as he unzipped his trousers. “Dr. Watson is going to treat you until he sees that you are better.”
Sherlock gulped as he felt John’s trousers being pushed down. He was too impatient to wait. He desperately pushed back onto John’s cock, the only thing covering it was the thin layer of his pants.
Sherlock gasped as John thrusted forwards. “I haven’t even taken my pants off, and you’re already moaning,” John said. Sherlock began to protest but his voice died in his throat as John pushed his pants down. Sherlock could feel John’s warm skin on his. It was erotic, possibly the most erotic thing Sherlock had felt. Just the warm press of John’s skin against his. “Please,” Sherlock whimpered.
John chuckled and obliged. He took a hold of Sherlock’s curls, pulled his head over, and kissed him as he slid in.
Sherlock gasped into John’s mouth. “Doctor, oh God, Doctor, please,” Sherlock moaned out as John’s cock pushed inside. He felt himself spreading to accommodate his boyfriend.
John sighed against Sherlock’s lips as he fully entered Sherlock. He gave a gentle pull on Sherlock’s curls, making him look up at him. “Good?”
“Very good,” Sherlock said.
John grinned and began to slowly, teasingly, pull his hips away from Sherlock’s. When he was just barely inside Sherlock, he slammed forwards. Sherlock cried out and scratched his nails along the table. “John, yes,” he moaned.
John growled and snapped his hips forward. His white coat swung as he thrusted. “God, I love you,” he said. “Love fucking your arse.” Sherlock moaned as John dug his fingers into his hair. “Love pulling your hair. Love hearing you moan.”
Sherlock moaned out a ragged “fuck” before reaching back and grabbing onto John. John pounded into him again and again. Sherlock’s grip on John tightened as his entire body jolted forwards. “Harder! Doctor, please!”
“Yeah. Yeah. I’ll fuck you hard. Fuck you so hard,” John moaned out as he pushed into Sherlock.
Sherlock arched his back and pushed his ass back as John thrusted. His nails dig into the wood of the table as he took his fucking. He could feel tears building up in his eyes as he neared orgasm. “Please, John, oh God, please,” he begged.
John growled and pulled Sherlock’s hips back onto his cock as he threw his hips into Sherlock. “Are you close yet, Love?”
Sherlock whined in response.
“What’s that?”
“Yes, Dr. Watson!” Sherlock exclaimed.
“Good. Come for me. Come in, Sherlock. Come for Dr. Watson,” John tumbled in Sherlock’s ear.
John’s voice set tumbled down Sherlock’s body, right down to his prick. Sherlock’s cock twitched and sputtered as he orgasmed, releasing over Sherlock’s legs and feet. He felt his mind fade into a post-orgasmic daze. “Yes, John, oh fuck yes,” Sherlock babbled out mindlessly. “Oh yes, that was so... so good.”
John rammed his hips forwards, moaned out Sherlock’s name loud enough that the entirety of Speedy’s could hear, and filled Sherlock’s arse.
John pulled out and laid against Sherlock’s back. The detective was hot and sweaty and not at all comfortable. John petted Sherlock’s curls as the man recovered from his orgasm. “You alright?” he asked.
Sherlock turned his head and smiled. “Little hot.”
John scoffed and stood, pulling Sherlock up. The detective smiled down at the doctor. John’s grey hair was unkempt. A thin sheen of sweat had broken out over his forehead. Sherlock ran a hand through John’s hair, attempting to fix it. John leaned into his touch, eyes closed and mouth turned upwards. “Still jealous?” Sherlock asked.
John opened his eyes and smirked. “Don’t start.”