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John had always enjoyed Christmas growing up though the years. He loved the ridiculously festive jumpers. The bright flickering lights. The excuse to snog people just because of a plant hanging from the ceiling. When he was young, it was the one day his parents made an effort to be cordial towards one another instead having screaming matches. Later, it was the only time his sister didn’t get so drunk she couldn’t see straight. When he was in the military, it was the one day of the year that a sense of hope prevailed in the blazing desserts of Afghanistan. Now, as he was staring at Sherlock scantily clad in lingerie and nothing else, he decided he loved it even more.
John and Sherlock had been sitting on the couch in companionable silence when the Detective rose and announced that he was going to get John’s present. When he returned, John could honestly say it was the best gift he had ever received. Sherlock was wearing sheer and lacy black pants complete with stockings, a garter belt, and a red bow placed on the waist. Sherlock’s cock was already hard in his pants, stretching the fabric.
“Christ,” his voice was hoarse with his quick and unexpected arousal. His trousers had already tightened uncomfortably due to blood rushing to his groin in what must have been record time.
“Not good?” Sherlock all but purred. His wide an innocent blue eyes contradicted his erotic get up. Clearly a clever ploy by Sherlock to knock John off his guard. And knock him off his guard it did. John was at Sherlock’s mercy.
The man in question sauntered forward, the lingerie clinging to those lovely hips. Sherlock backed John up until his knees hit the back of his chair. He then pushed John down into his chair and draped himself in John’s lap. The army doctor cleared his throat so his voice wouldn’t break embarrassingly. “Very good.“
Sherlock rolled his pelvis, causing their clothed erections to rub against each other’s in an achingly satisfying way. A little whimper tore itself from Sherlock’s throat and he nuzzled John’s neck, nipping gently at the skin. John’s hands traveled downwards and squeezed Sherlock’s lovely arse. The feeling of lace against his calloused hands was quite enjoyable indeed. John thrusted up and pulled Sherlock even closer. The ebony haired man panted and writhed in John’s grip. Before long, an exquisite wet spot of pre-come formed at the front of Sherlock’s new pants. Sherlock threw his head back and John was quick to pepper kisses on his long neck. “What do you say we ruin these pants of yours even more?” he asked huskily in Sherlocks ear. Sherlock groaned in approval, spreading his legs wider.
John stood up, scooping Sherlock into his arms. Sherlock simply wrapped his legs around John’s waist and continued to snog him relentlessly, moaning into his mouth. Sherlock’s clever tongue teasingly traced John’s lips. John retaliated by gently sucking on Sherlock’s plump bottom lip. John used one hand to support Sherlock by the arse and the other to twist his fingers in his ebony curls. Sherlock hummed in approval and pressed his lips against John’s with bruising force. John felt Sherlock’s hands lightly run teasingly up and down his back before twisting in his jumper. John stopped kissing Sherlock’s mouth and moved to his neck. He circled Sherlock’s adams apple with his tongue. John delicately brushed his lips against the side of Sherlock’s neck and sucked at Sherlock’s jawline, creating a bruise. Sherlock bit back a moan and stole John’s lips in another kiss.
Somehow, they managed to make it to Sherlock’s bedroom. John unceremoniously dumped Sherlock on to the silk sheets and admired his elegant and statuesque form. Sherlock made quite the picture. Cupid bow lips parted and swollen from kissing. Curled hair splayed out against the crisp white pillows. Pupils blown wide and eyelids heavy with lust. John’s eyes traveled lower to the main event. Sherlock’s cock was heavy and flushed behind his pants. The slick head poked out due to his growing member becoming to elongated for the form fitting underwear.
“Jesus Christ. You’re gorgeous,” John groaned and palmed his member over his jeans to relieve some of the ache.
Sherlock’s cheeks flushed in pleasure at the compliment. Trapped by his pants, his cock gave an appreciative twitch. Sherlock squirmed and ran one hand across his chest towards his cock, mewling when his hand rubbed across his pert nipple. He refrained from fondling his erection, however. His eyes stared up at John; questioning.
“Touch yourself, love,” John instructed, the authority of Captain Watson revealing itself. “I want to see you stroke that beautiful prick of yours.”
“Unh,” Sherlock exhaled sharply. He reached underneath his pants and took himself in hand. “Oh,” he gasped as he gave himself a slow upstroke and teased the pulsing tip of his cock with his thumb. He moaned gutturally and canted his hips up into his hand. That plump bottom lip was pulled into his mouth and a strangled whine escaped his teeth. Sherlock’s free hand tangled in the bedding for a brief moment, before moving to tease his nipples. His strokes became faster and more enthusiastic. John watched Sherlock’s little display with hungry eyes. Fuck, he was alluring. “Stop,” John suddenly ordered and swiped his tongue across his top lip. Sherlock stopped his motions with a small whine.
John leaned over to suck on a sensitive spot where Sherlock’s shoulder dipped, before kissing a trail down to his throbbing erection. Sherlock spread his legs and carded his hand through John’s sandy hair. “John. Please.” he grunted in desperation. John chuckled against Sherlock’s pale damp skin, the sensation causing Sherlock to shiver. With hooded eyes glancing up at Sherlock, John lapped teasingly at his cock through the lace. “Ah. Ah.” Sherlock gasped and curled his fingers in John’s hair. John delved lower to trace Sherlock’s perineum with his tongue. Sherlock’s thighs quaked and his head swam with arousal. The little ministrations from John’s mouth was causing his prick to pulse in his pants. John dragged his tongue back up to mouth the shape of Sherlocks swelled member. The little groans and whimpers of pleasure that escaped Sherlock’s throat made John want to fuck him into the mattress until he lost his voice from screaming.
John gave one Sherlock one last lick before pulling his mouth away and murmured. “Do you want me to suck you?”
“God yes,” Sherlock panted, eagerly raising his hips. John smirked and pulled Sherlock’s lovely pants down to his ankles, making sure to lightly drag them across his skin. Sherlock’s member rose; flushed and slick. John took the rosy glans into his mouth and sucked gently. He ran his tongue along the slit and allowed pre-come to rest on his tongue. He traced the veins before taking half of his cock into his mouth. John hollowed his cheeks and swirled his tongue around the member. Sherlock’s breath caught in his throat as John began to cease his teasing and took him as far into his throat as he could. A groan rumbled in Sherlock’s chest when he felt his glans hit the back of John’s mouth. Then John bobbed his head, those eyes holding Sherlock frozen with their wicked gaze. John’s tongue was relentless; He massaged his frenulum. The slit on his head. The veins protruding from his cock. And then John swallowed around Sherlock’s prick, nearly making him lose control.
John’s fingers dexterously applied pressure to Sherlocks perineum and his bent knees nearly buckled. Than John’s fingers moved lower and traced his hole in tantalizing circles. Sherlock writhed, his mind unable to decide wether he wanted to push further into that devilish mouth or press against John’s brilliant fingers. John didn’t give him the opportunity to decide, because he managed to blindly grab lube on the bedside table and slick up his fingers before working his way inside of Sherlock’s heat and finding the spot he knew would make Sherlock cry out and shake with pleasure as if an electric shock had rushed through him. Sherlock’s eyes widened and he bucked his hips in a frantic motion. “John. John! Wait!” Sherlock gasped wildly. Unbearable heat pooled in his groin and coiled tightly. “I can’t. I can’t!” he cried. All it would take was one more flick of John’s tongue and he would be coming down John’s throat. John realized this and pulled off, breathing heavily. His finger stilled inside of Sherlock.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard,” John growled. “I’m going to fill you up until you’re begging me to come.”
Sherlock’s eyes darkened and his chest heaved. “Yes please,” he whispered. His tongue darted out to slowly trace his lips, wetting them.
Two more fingers joined the first and coaxed Sherlock to pant and keen in bliss. John massaged and stroked Sherlock’s prostate, thoroughly enjoying the noises Sherlock made. His voice was like silk slowly being dragged across stone. One of John’s favorite things was to take the voice that was usually spouting deductions and ordering people around and reducing it to a quivering mess. And quiver Sherlock did.
Despite Sherlock’s protests John removed his fingers. When he replaced them with his tongue, however, it instantly halted Sherlock’s complaining. “Fuck,” Sherlock rasped and threw his head back. John traced Sherlock’s hole before pushing against the tight ring. “Oh,” Sherlock whimpered. John was fucking him with his mouth, and Sherlock felt as if he was going to explode. With a smug huff of laughter, John worked his way inside Sherlock’s heat. Sherlock positively melted. His entire body went lax except for his toes which curled. “Nnh.” He mewled in the back of his throat. John wriggled his tongue, using it to massage Sherlock’s tight hole. He pulled out to lap gently at Sherlock’s arse before plunging back in. Sherlock shuddered in delight. Sherlock’s brain was fuzzy save for the fiery pulses of pleasure which were overwhelming him. Sherlock’s entrance relaxed around John’s tongue, allowing John to use his adept tongue to rub against Sherlock’s sensitive walls. Sherlock’s knees gave out and his legs fell on both sides of John’s head. An incoherent cry escaped Sherlock’s mouth as his head spun with complete euphoria.
John sat up between Sherlock’s legs and Sherlock leaned on his elbows to hold himself up. “Fuck me,” he begged roughly.
John smirked. “Is that what you want?” he asked rhetorically. “For me to fuck you. You want me to slam my cock into your arse until you’re screaming so loud the neighbors can here your little obscene noises? Till they can hear how much you love my cock pounding into you.” John purred with smoldering eyes. “Because I will. I’ll shag you so hard that you forget your own name. All you’ll remember is how good it feels to have my prick fucking your arse.” John was officially in Captain mode now.
John’s sinful words made Sherlock’s cock leak and throb against his lean stomach. Oh god, he wanted. He clenched his hands into fists and mewled. “Oh yes.”
“That’s why you wore those fucking pants, yeah? Because you wanted a good shag.” John leaned over Sherlock’s body and caressed the sides of his torso. “Naughty boy.”
Sherlock worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “Please shag me,” he asked again. If he had to listen to anymore of John’s devilish words in that sonorous voice, spontaneous combustion was very likely.
John smacked Sherlock’s ass playfully. “I’ll never tire of the great Sherlock Holmes begging me to bugger him.” he chuckled and Sherlock blushed with chagrin.
“Get on with it,” Sherlock demanded, although it was made less effective by the breathy quality of his voice.
“Mmm,” John leaned forward and inhaled against Sherlock’s pale neck as he pinned Sherlock’s legs against his chest by the thighs. Sherlock impatiently ground his exposed arse against John’s thick member. John’s eyes darkened and he grunted. He used one hand to brace himself and the other to coat his cock with lubrication. “Ah,” John groaned as he allowed himself to indulge in pleasure for a moment. After a few tight strokes of his hand, John lined himself up with Sherlock’s entrance, feeling those slender legs around his waist. With a loud inhale, he slowly thrust into Sherlock’s tight heat until he was fully sheathed. Sherlock choked on a moan. He felt so deliciously full.
John pulled out all the way and slammed back in, causing Sherlock to jerk and cry out loudly enough to rival Mrs. Turner’s married ones. The steady sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, enhanced by the creaking rock of the bed. John’s hips rolled fluidly against Sherlock’s plump ass. He picked up the pace and cried out as he felt Sherlock tighten around him. John’s head bowed as primitive instincts kicked in, causing him to thrust into Sherlock’s body with enough force to knock the head board against the wall. Sherlock’s hands scrabbled for purchase on John’s shoulders. His fingers dug into John’s flesh, but the mild pain only enhanced the pleasure.
Slam. Slam. Slam. The sound of the headboard reverberated round the room, although it was nearly drowned out by Sherlock and John’s wanton mewling and moaning. John shifted his angle slightly upward and was well rewarded for his efforts. Sherlock’s mouth fell open as he made a strangled noise. “There!” he shuddered. “Fuck. Right there. Don’t stop,” he begged shamelessly. John heeded his request and pounded his prick against Sherlock’s prostate.
“Is that it?” John rumbled. “Right there?” His gaze bore into Sherlock’s eyes and Sherlock found it impossible to look away. “So good. God, you’re so fucking good. You should see yourself right now. All blushing and taking my cock like the brilliant man you are.”
Sherlock could barely register John’s words through the haze of arousal and bliss. “Ah. Ah. Anh!” choked noises resounded deep within Sherlock’s chest. Each squelching push of John’s dick into his hole made him feel as if he were falling and flying all at once. John pulsed deep inside of him. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer with the way Sherlock was flushing and reacting like the most beautiful thing John ever had the privilege to lay eyes on.
“I’m going to come. John! I’m going to come!” Sherlock babbled, completely unadulterated in physical rapture. His words intertwined with hoarse moans and sharp cries. His balls pulled tightly against his body and flushed red. Jesus, he was going to climax without having his prick touched at all. Sherlock’s body thrashed and spasmed as he lost control and barreled towards his peak.
“That’s it, love. So beautiful. Come for me.” John groaned and struggled to keep up the rhythm they’d established.
“Oh god!” Sherlock keened in ecstasy. “Yes! Yes!” His entire body quivered like the slow drag of his bow along his violin. He screamed, although he couldn’t hear due to the white noise and the sound of his own racing pulse in his ears. His dick pulsed, sending ribbons of come across his chest. Sherlock’s mind short circuited, unable to process anything beyond ravishment. “Oh fuck. John!” Sherlock struggled to breathe as wave after wave of excruciating pleasure wracked his body and mind. His lithe body trembled in John’s arms.
John gazed down at Sherlock, entranced by his wanton display of pleasure. Sherlock clenched around him. He was so tight. He was so wonderfully hot. John felt as if the heat would permeate his skin and burn him from the inside out. And who knows, maybe John was burning. After all, it certainly felt like it. Sherlock’s ocean blue eyes, unfocused as a result of his orgasm, were igniting a fire in his very core. He pumped a few more times. Just a little more. Then the fire consumed him. His hips stuttered and finally stilled as he spilled the evidence of his pleasure inside Sherlock. White hot bliss flooded his every nerve. “Sherlock!” John roared and quaked and simply held on to the other man as his orgasm pulsed through him.
When John and Sherlock came back to Earth, they lay intertwined and panting heavily. John rolled off of Sherlock with a grunt and lay beside him. “C’mere,” he slurred turning his head to look at the shaking mess that was Sherlock. Sherlock took a few calming breaths and then curled up halfway on top of John. He nuzzled John’s neck and sighed, feeling completely satisfied and content. John wrapped one arm around Sherlock’s waist and placed the other behind Sherlock’s head and gently ran his fingers through Sherlock’s hair. “That was wonderful,” John murmured softly and pressed a gentle kiss to Sherlock’s damp forehead. “I love you so much.” John’s voice was tender, intimate; showing emotion so strong, so central to his existence, that he wasn’t sure that he could even begin to fully express it.
Sherlock smiled into John’s neck and hummed. He felt John’s love in his chest. In his mind. His heart. It traveled through him like the blood in his veins. “I love you too,” he sighed, and it was everything John couldn’t articulate and everything Sherlock could barely handle. “Happy Christmas.”