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The tension hung heavy in the flat of 221B. But with that tension, there were other feelings. Wonderful feelings. Lust, need, and desperation all but surrounded the space where John and Sherlock sat.
Sherlock's gaze moved up John's body. His strong legs, prominent even through his trousers, made Sherlock's mouth water as he imagined John's muscular form above him, doing such filthy things to him. Quickly, his eyes flickered to John's broad, muscular shoulder. Just thinking about the dirty things he wanted John to do to him with those arms nearly tore a sinful whine from Sherlock's lips.
All the while, John sat across from Sherlock, grinning at the drooling detective. His cock already ached with need. Oh, how he wanted to push Sherlock back and wreck him, ruin him for anybody else. He wanted to make sure that Sherlock knew that he owned him. He felt desire pool in his stomach as he watched Sherlock's gorgeous eyes, filled with want and sin, meet his own. It was as if the man was right beside him, so close that he would be able to feel Sherlock's hot breath on his neck, tracing his own body with those magnificent, slender fingers instead of just his eyes.
Unable to deal with the burning sensation in his belly and the pain of his cock, which was straining uncomfortably against his trousers, John beckoned Sherlock with his hand, smirking as Sherlock stood from his chair, kneeling in front of John's legs expectantly.
Sherlock heard John chuckle from above him, then felt the grip of his hand on his hair, "No darling, I want you up here." Sherlock looked up at John, who was motioning at his lap. Quickly, he scrambled into his lap, whining when John threaded his hand through his curls.
John's smirk grew, "Needy tonight, are we? You want me to use you, hm?"
Sherlock nodded eagerly at his words, burying his face into John's neck and breathing in the scent of him.
Tugging on Sherlock's hair, John spoke, "Go to our room, love. Strip for me but do not touch yourself, or you will not come at all tonight." then quieter, "What is your safeword, Sherlock?"
"Ash." was Sherlock's mumbled reply. As soon as John gave him an approving nod, he scrambled obediently to their shared room.
John took his time as he waited for Sherlock to get ready. Sitting back in his chair, John smirked at the thought of the brilliant detective splayed out crudely on the bed for him.
Minutes passed. John grew more and more impatient. He stood from his chair and slowly stalked towards the room where he knew Sherlock would be waiting for him.
As soon as John opened the door to their room, his gaze immediately landed on Sherlock's body. He was lying on the bed, his cheeks coated with a faint pink tint, and his lips parted and desperate.
"Look at you," John's cold and calculating voice came from above Sherlock, and John saw him squirm with arousal. He smirked, "look how easy it is to make you give up your power, Sherlock. You act all high and mighty out there, but you love this. You like being able to let somebody else be in charge of you. And you are just so desperate for it."
"John," Sherlock whined, his voice desperate and dripping with lust, "John, please."
"Please what, darling?" John asked, faining innocence.
"You know, John. Don't make me say it."
John did know. He knew all too well of what Sherlock wanted from him. But where's the fun simply complying? They were playing a game, and John was determined to win it.
"Joh-ngh-" Sherlock panted as John's rough hands moved over his chest, reaching up to pinch his nipples. Sherlock let out a needy whine. In any other situation, the noise would seem filthy and humiliating, but Sherlock was too high on the ecstasy of his pleasure that he couldn't bring himself to care. He felt John crawl on top of his body, kissing his neck and making him throw his head back. John knew everything about him. He knew what could make Sherlock's eyes roll back in his head. He knew how to reduce him to whimpers.
"Fuck, you're so obedient for me." John groaned, gripping Sherlock's hair, "Such a slut for me. You are, aren't you?"
Sherlock nodded frantically, "Yes, John. I'm yours. I'm your slut."
"Damn right." John grinned, pulling Sherlock to him and kissing him roughly, "You're mine, Sherlock, all mine. Christ, 'm going to fuck your slutty hole so hard. Fill you up with my cum and ruin you for anybody else." John growled possessively.
Sherlock moaned, rutting and grinding on John's thigh, letting out needy whimpers that made John more and more desperate to fuck Sherlock right there and then.
He restrained himself, though, pushing Sherlock to the floor. Slowly, he unbuttoned his trousers, watching Sherlock's hungry gaze flicker to the growing bulge in his boxers.
"You want me to fuck you." Sherlock nodded almost as soon as the words left John's mouth. His cock was throbbing and desperate, copious amounts of precum leaking from the aching tip.
John let a crude smile spread across his face as he watched Sherlock squirm beneath him in arousal and shame under his scrutinizing stare.
"You have to earn it, you know," John spoke as he slowly pulled his boxers down his thighs, letting his thick, long cock slap against his belly, "I don't give this away to just anyone, especially not slags like you." Though the tone in his voice was old and uncaring, his gaze was full of want and admiration for his lover.
Sherlock moaned deeply at the filthy words, nuzzling John's thigh in hopes that he'd get to have that magnificent cock in his mouth.
John complied now, letting Sherlock swallow his cock, swirling his tongue around the tip, and tasting the salty tang of his semen as it leaked into his mouth.
John let out a satisfied grunt, tugging roughly on Sherlock's hair and earning a surprised moan from the man between his thighs.
Sherlock took more of John's cock down his throat, moaning as John gripped his hair and moaned from above him. Sherlock loved this, loved that he could do this to John.
Panting heavily, John fucked into Sherlock's mouth as he sucked harder at his cock, "God–fuck, Sherlock, you're so damn good at this-" Sherlock hummed in appreciation as John's hips fucked into the tight wetness of his mouth.
Shifting his leaking cock to John's leg, Sherlock began to rut against John, humping him as he desperately chased his orgasm.
Soon though, John removed his leg from between Sherlock's thigh, tugging at his hair. Sherlock looked at John in confusion, but his face quickly lit up as John started to speak.
"You want me to fuck you, hm? Can't have you cumming too quickly if that's the case." John smiled as Sherlock quickly straddled his lap, kissing him needily.
John's hands snaked around Sherlock's waist as he kissed him back. Slowly, he pulled Sherlock to the bed, their chests touching. Turning him onto his back, John began to kiss Sherlock's neck, slowly leaving marks down his body. Sherlock was whimpering and submissive beneath him.
Sherlock wrapped his legs around John's waist, whining needily, "Oh fuck John, please, I need–" his sentence cut off as a moan escaped his throat, low and deep.
John sat back, grinning triumphantly, "Yes, Sherlock? Are you ready to tell me what you want?"
"Fuck me!" Sherlock begged, thrusting his hips up to try and get any friction against his painfully hard cock, "Oh, please fuck me, John. I need you in me now."
John smiled down at Sherlock, leaning to kiss his lips softly, before pulling away, "Good boy, Sherlock. Such a good boy for me." Slowly, John pressed into Sherlock's hole with his fingers, groaning softly, "Just need to prep you for a bit, Sherl—fuck, you're so tight."
Sherlock whined, gripping John's shoulders as he threw his head back onto the pillow, and John added another finger.
Soon, John had all four fingers up Sherlock, who was moaning and begging for John to fuck him already.
John pulled his fingers out, and Sherlock whimpered at the loss of contact. Slicking his cock up with lube, John started to push into Sherlock.
"Fuck, oh fuck, Sherlock, you're so–so fucking tight. And you're all mine. I'm the only one," he groaned, "that's ever going to get to see you like this, Sherlock. You're mine."
Sherlock panted heavily. John always made him feel so good. Like he was the only one in the world he would ever love, "Yes, yes, John. I'm yours, all yours."
John began to thrust into Sherlock, moaning loudly, "Fuck darling. You always feel so good for me. And you're always so pretty for me." he cupped Sherlock's chin, kissing him softly. His thrusts began to get sloppy, "Cum for me, Sherlock, please. Let me see how fucking beautiful you are."
Sherlock moaned, hips snapping up to meet Jonh's rough thrusts, "John, I love you. Fuck, John, I'm going to–"
Cum splattered across Sherlock's chest as he came, holding onto John's shoulders as he shook. John followed soon after, cumming in Sherlock with a rough thrust. He collapsed onto the bed beside Sherlock, who clung to him tightly, burying his face in John's neck and resting his head on his chest.
John held Sherlock close, stroking his hair softly, "You did so well, Sherlock, so good for me. You're always so beautiful for me."
Sherlock blushed, tangling his long legs with John's, groaning when John attempted to lift him.
John chuckled, smiling down at Sherlock, "Come on, Sherlock, I know you're tired, but we have to take a shower. You're all sticky."
Sherlock groaned, sitting up and wrapping his arms around him. He didn't want to get up. Sherlock wanted to stay in bed with John and fall asleep like this. But he knew that John was right. If they didn't clean now, there would be an even bigger mess to clean in the morning. So he followed John to the bathroom, waiting by him as he ran the shower. John leads Sherlock into the shower. They start to clean themselves, basking comfortably in the silence between them. Sherlock lets John play with his wet hair, leaning into his comforting touch.
John turns the shower off when they're both clean, handing a towel to Sherlock. He wraps one around his waist, smiling as Sherlock leans into him. He leads Sherlock to their room, quickly drying off and throwing on a pair of boxers. Sherlock follows suit, almost immediately getting into bed after John, pressing his back against the shorter man.
John smiles, wrapping his arms around Sherlock's waist and closing his eyes, "I love you, Sherl."
Sherlock blushes at the nickname, relaxing into John's strong arms and closing his eyes, "I love you too, John."
Outside, a thin cloud floated over the moon as the stars twinkled brightly against the night sky. A cool breeze blew through the tree branches, rustling the crisp fall leaves, which flew to the ground below and glided in groups across the streets of London.
Back inside 221B, the soft snores of John and Sherlock are quiet and calm. Tomorrow would bring adventure and action, promises of a great chase and excitement.
But for now, all was silent. London was calm.