Chapter Text
Begin
Their bodies rocked together in that primal moment of complete lustfulness. They met each other skin to skin, heart to heart, over and over again. His body drove into hers until both of them succumbed to the glorious tension that had been building and they released great moans of pleasure and ecstasy. He collapsed on top of her, panting so hard his breath warmed her already over-heated skin. She reveled in the feel of his weight on her body, marveled at the sensation of their bodies fully joined as one, rejoiced that her desires had at long last been fulfilled.
How had this happened? How did they get here? One moment they had been discussing a case and the oddities that perplexed them both, and the next moment his mouth had been firmly pressed against hers. He’d crushed her body between the wall and his own lean frame. He'd nearly torn off her clothing in his eagerness to reach bare flesh. He'd quite nearly dragged her into her bedroom so ungracefully it was almost comical. But she went with him willingly. How could she refuse when she'd wanted him for so long?
The sex had been frenzied but fervent, dynamic but dedicated. It was everything she'd ever hoped it would be, dreamt it would be and more! Mouths, tongues, legs, feet, hands, and arms had been used to their utmost potential. And Christ did it feel good! She was almost unprepared for how good it felt. It rocked her to the core, not just sexually, but emotionally how passionate the whole process had been. She'd never expected him to be capable of such heated need, let alone that he would turn to her to explore his desires. Hell, she wasn’t even aware he had such desires, yet here he was lying on top of her completely stated.
Molly hummed in fulfillment and wrapped her arms around his body, content and eager to keep him as close to her as possible.
But Sherlock had other plans. He rolled off her and adjusted himself into a comfortable position on his back. "Well," he said matter-of-factly, "that's been a long time coming. No pun intended."
Molly turned her head to look at him, surprised at the casual tone his voice took. Only moments ago, he had been calling her name and encouraging her to go faster and harder. Now, he almost sounded as if none of it had happened.
"It was only a matter of time before you and I ended up in bed together, although I always thought it would take place in my bed." He glanced around her room. "Perhaps this is better, though, given how irresponsibly we behaved."
The sexual fog clouding her mind started to dissipate as she tried to work out the meaning in his words. "Better that we made love here? Why?"
"You stand the better chance for having the proper necessities for making sure our dalliance doesn't end with an unwanted birth."
She blinked at him in confusion, and sat up to look at him. "What?"
"I didn't use a condom. Quite frankly, I hadn't intended to have sex with you tonight. I figured itwould happen in the next few months, but I didn't come over here tonight with the intention of bedding you. Certainly not. Yet, the outcome couldn't be ignored a moment longer, and here we are. Pleasurable as it was, I didn’t wear a condom. Which actually probably added to the pleasure, but it still was irresponsible. I'm sure you are on some sort of birth control given the 'lots of sex' you were having just a few months ago with your imbecilic former fiancé. Still, even if you aren't, I suggest a dose of levonorgestrel as soon as possible.
By this point, Molly was frowning – scowling at Sherlock. Her face had to read something between horror and confusion, for Sherlock then said, "More commonly known as the morning after pill."
"I know what it is," she said, disgusted at the suggestion.
"Best make certain straight away that conception isn't even a possibility," he said, fighting off a yawn. "A child would be most unwelcome."
With all the force she could muster, Molly hit him with both hands and nearly knocked him out of the bed.
"What the bloody—"
"GET OUT!" she shouted, pulling the covers over her naked body.
"Molly?"
"Get the hell out of my bed!"
He actually had the gall to gape at her in surprise. "Why? You've wanted me in your bed for years!"
"A wish I whole-heartedly regret! Now get out!"
His brows came together. "No."
Her eyes went wide. "No?"
"Not until you explain why you've turned into a raging banshee!"
She hit him again. "Get out now or I swear I’ll start cutting up your most precious bits!"
Sherlock slid out from under the covers and unapologetically stood stark naked beside the bed. "This is why I have avoided such relationships,” he spat out. “You women are so finicky in your desires."
She waited a moment until he gathered up his trousers and began putting them on. "I'm not finicky," she said, fighting back tears. "I just don't like being insulted by the man I've just made love with!"
"First of all, to say we ‘made love’ is an incorrect assessment. It was just sex, Molly.”
His words pierced her heart and left her cold inside.
“And secondly, how did I insult you?" he asked, slipping his arms into his rumpled shirt.
Was he really that clueless? "Oh, Sherlock, please. Just get out."
Tucking in his shirt to his waistband he said, "I brought you to orgasm – twice, I might add – and then offered concern for an unwanted pregnancy, and yet you rage at me as if I've committed the most heinous crime."
"For someone who takes pride in his ability to observe, you really can be obtuse!" She rolled her eyes and muttered, "concern..."
He zipped up his fly and, placing his hands at his hips, said, "Is that what this is about? The fact that I didn't use a condom?"
Molly glared at him.
"Honestly, Molly, you can't want a baby," he chuckled. "The idea is absurd. Has John and Mary’s situation gone to your head?"
Without warning, Molly screeched and threw a pillow at him. "OUT! Just GO!"
With a huff, Sherlock turned to leave. "Why I thought this would be a good idea is beyond reason."
"Well, that makes two of us!"
He turned on her, his face growing red in fury. "You have wanted me since the first time we met. You wanted me every time I came into your morgue. You fawned over me. You primped for me. You wanted me so much you once donned your most whorish dress for Christmas and covered your lips in slut red thinking I would be drawn in by your womanly wiles."
She inhaled sharply, unable to find words to fight back, unable to hold back the tears from falling.
But Sherlock wasn't finished. "You wanted me so much you almost married a complete imbecile who resembled me physically all in the search for sexual satisfaction! And now that you've had me and I've given you the orgasm you've been craving, you second guess yourself and kick me out of your bed all for speaking honestly about something that could ruin both our lives."
The small sob that escaped her put an end to his belittling tirade. "Please, just go," she managed softly.
He stared at her for what seemed an eternity. Molly held her breath, waiting for the next round of insults. But they never came. Without another word, Sherlock pulled on his Belstaff and left the room. A moment later, the door to Molly's flat was opened and then slammed shut.
The silence and emptiness that was left behind in Sherlock’s wake was utterly painful. With a whimper that made her hate herself even more than she already did, Molly crumbled down onto her pillow. The joy she felt a short ten minutes ago was washed away by a flood of tears.
AN: Please give me (and Sherlock) a chance to explain and make things right. I PROMISE you this is a Sherlolly fic with all the expected trimmings. If you don’t believe me, go read my other Sherlolly fic “White Flag” as I see this as a sort of sequel to that one.