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Nocturnal Preludes	By : Leloi Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 3372 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock BBC or make any money from him or his universe... and they are fictional characters.

Chapter List
- 1-Nocturnal Preludes
- 1
Warning! Contains SPOILERS for the Second Season of Sherlock!
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The first night Sherlock returned to 221B Baker Street John crawled into his bed. It happened sometime after Sherlock had been in bed for almost an hour. The door opened and closed and a warm body slid beneath the sheets. Sherlock made room for John and both lay in silence until both fell asleep. Somehow being near his friend made sleep come easier.

Every night after John came into the bedroom, always after Sherlock went to bed. The detective started to leave room so he wouldn’t have to shift over when John joined him. Neither of them spoke of it.

As nights grew chilly the mornings would find them huddled together, Sherlock grateful for John’s body heat. Every morning he found himself edged closer and closer until one particular morning that he woke with his head on John’s shoulder, drool wetting the other man’s night shirt. Blearily he blinked at his companion who was already awake, looking back at him… irises blown wide and pulse quick.

Sherlock knew John loved him. His little “test” had discerned that around the time Irene made him aware that he and John were really a couple. But there were countless other clues in the way John acted and took care of him.

“Hey…” John breathed. Morning breath but Sherlock didn’t mind.

“Mmm.”

“I have to get ready for work.”

“Mmm…” Taking in John’s musky, unwashed scent a moment more he finally moved his head. “When will you be home?” For a moment Sherlock pondered the correlation between John’s scent and his own salivary glands’ overreaction.

John sat up. “The usual time.” Getting out of bed the doctor casually adjusted himself. “I’ll leave you some tea.”

“Mmm.” Sherlock rolled into John’s warm spot. “Thanks.” Belatedly he cursed himself for not checking John’s pants when he had the chance. Instead he burrowed himself into the warmth of the bed that John left behind.

Weeks passed. Each night John joined Sherlock in bed but neither man commented about it during the day. It grew to be something that was expected. Just before Christmas John entered the room before Sherlock had retired for the night. Some nights when the detective couldn’t sleep John would curl up in the bed anyway, tempting the younger man to join him. Sleeping ceased to be the chore Sherlock always thought it was. It was time to relax, listening to his best friend snore softly beside him with occasional closeness.

Sherlock had never known closeness or intimacy. Irene had tempted him as many females had done, especially at university when it seemed everyone was climbing into bed with everyone else. John was different. The only thing John wanted was comfort and affection, but he certainly didn’t demand or expect it. The way he platonically shared the bed with no askance for anything more than Sherlock was willing to give comforted the younger man. Sherlock had no doubt that John was motivated by none other than love. His own disappearance had broken the other man’s heart and it brought comfort to that man to sleep beside him. Sherlock could not deny him that. And so they slept side by side, occasionally waking in the other’s arms.

The first time John had rolled into Sherlock’s arms was shortly after New Years. It was a particularly cold night and both were chilled despite the extra blankets. Late at night something warm and heavy pressed against Sherlock’s side and he wrapped his arm around that something, feeling warmer. When Sherlock woke John’s arm was wrapped securely around his waist, almost possessively. The doctor’s knee rested on the detective’s thigh. Evidence of John’s morning excitement pressed against Sherlock’s hip as the brunette reminded himself that the other man was only celibate due to circumstances. John never spoke of his sex life but with him sleeping in Sherlock’s bed night after night, surely there couldn’t be much of one. And even when John was dating he was too much of a nice guy to ask for sex from his girlfriends. During their whole friendship John had been celibate and Sherlock wasn’t entirely sure if that was the “natural state of John.”

The organ trapped between John and Sherlock was evidence of what had to be an unsatisfied need.

And, oddly, Sherlock didn’t find himself disgusted with the idea of being faced with John’s needs. An arm slid down John’s back to rest around his hips, pulling them closer, marveling at the way John unconsciously rhythmically pressed against him in his sleep. Could he satisfy John? Now that they shared a bed Sherlock didn’t want to sleep alone ever again. It would be a small sacrifice to give John what he unconsciously needed. Silently Sherlock wondered how best to proceed when John woke.

John looked surprised and just a little bit guilty. With a mumbled “sorry…” he rolled away, staring up at the ceiling.

“It’s fine.” Sherlock replied, missing the body heat.

“No… really… I’m sorry.”

“And really… It is fine.” Sherlock replied, rolling over to face John. “You’re better than a blanket.”

John blushed, his eyes twinkling as he stared up at the ceiling.

They didn’t discuss it any more that day or any other day when they woke with John rubbing against Sherlock’s hip. But always John woke and pulled away shortly after the rubbing began.

Spring came and went. As the days grew warmer Sherlock often wondered how to inform John of his summer habit of sleeping in the nude. Of course Sherlock had no real shame when it came to anything involving John. John was embarrassed enough for both of them, but Sherlock always felt comfortable around the other man. The only reason he pondered his summer sleeping habits was because John seemed genuinely unnerved when he woke up in an aroused state… almost as if he feared to insult Sherlock. But in Sherlock’s mind there was no insult made. Obviously John loved him and had a sexual attraction to him… there was nothing to be insulted about because it was John. If it had been anyone else Sherlock would have sneered at the person… but not John.

So Sherlock decided to take the plunge so to speak. One night after John had settled into their bed (indeed it had become “their” bed in the brunette’s mind) Sherlock took off his robe, revealing his naked body and climbed into bed.

“What… what are you doing?”

“This is how I sleep when it is warm.” Sherlock replied.

John sat up. “You could have just told me you don’t want me in here…”

Sherlock raised his head, panic filling him. “John. John please… lay down.”

Silently John obeyed, keeping some distance between them.

“I get too warm...”

“You don’t have to explain it.” John breathed.

“And really I won’t be offended if you also slept in the nude.”

John turned his head, eyes wide, nostrils flared. “You… can’t be… serious.”

“Why not? I have nothing to hide… neither do you.”

“It’s just not appropriate… what if…? What if I roll over against you while I’m asleep?”

“Surely it wouldn’t be that bad?” Sherlock asked. Hurt passed through him, along with puzzlement. “You… can’t stand to be near me?”

“No! It’s not that.” John replied, blushing. “I mean the morning part. You know…”

“You can’t offend me, John… no matter what position we wake up in.”

“Look… I know you’re not interested in me as anything more than a friend. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“And you think rubbing against me while we’re both naked is going to make me feel uncomfortable?” Sherlock asked.

“Won’t it?”

“I certainly hope not.” With a sigh Sherlock rolled over onto his back. “Sleep as you wish. I am comfortable no matter how you chose to sleep. But don’t get mad at me if you get too warm.”

And that was that. They both went silent and eventually John fell asleep, still keeping his distance. Sherlock could only watch the blonde in the darkness, wondering if he had been wrong about John’s affection for him.

Eventually sleep came with dreams of bawdy nature. Sherlock woke to find he had rolled up against John’s back, nose to his companion’s neck, arm wrapped tightly around a trim waist. A hunger rose deep within the younger man’s body, long denied, unfulfilled. A tender kiss was placed at the nape of the neck where skin was exposed. Sherlock hungered as he never hungered before… even for drugs, nicotine or puzzles. His body ached for John. “John…” His voice was soft, pleading. “Please, John…”

John rolled over in Sherlock’s arms, facing the other. “What is it?”

Sherlock sighed and rested his forehead against his friend’s. Shyly his lips caught John’s cheek.

John shifted a bit to lie on his back, wrapping an arm around Sherlock’s waist. “Are you alright, Sherl?”

“No, I’m not ‘alright’.” Sherlock replied. How could he express his growing hunger to John without scaring him away? “Touch me.”

The hand resting on Sherlock’s hip spread. “Is this about our case today? I was fine.”

Sherlock pondered John’s words. There had been a brief panic that he was about to lose John forever, but that wasn’t what prompted this hunger, was it? The dreams had a sense of urgency about them, it could have been leftover from the day’s events. “I know you’re fine. Just… touch me.”

John obeyed, his other hand lightly caressing the side of Sherlock’s rib cage. “I’m here. Don’t worry. I’m alive.”

The younger man shivered despite the warmth of the room. Leaning down his lips sought John’s taking them chastely. John allowed it and for a few moments they stayed that way until John opened his lips. Suddenly Sherlock felt compelled to plunder the mouth below his, pushing his tongue in to tease John’s… and to taste. It was his first real kiss and he wasn’t disappointed. Pulling away, his lips lightly kissed John’s face.

“Oh God, Sherl… do that again.”

Sherlock obeyed, plundering John’s mouth once more, his hand reaching down to touch the other man’s side. “Give me more.”

“Anything…” John gasped, wrapping his arms around Sherlock’s neck to pull him closer.

Sherlock nuzzled his way against the warm flesh, taking in John’s scent and heat, thrilling at the gasps John made in his ear with each nibble. A hand found its way under a waistband and took hard flesh into the palm of his hand, squeezing it as John cried out. “Take it all off.” Sherlock grunted, giving another squeeze, pleased when John obeyed. Lying down against the pillow he pulled the older man down atop him. “Go ahead… use me.”

John faltered, looking down at the brunette with a hint of apprehension. “Use you?”

Despite his previous celibacy Sherlock did not suffer from impotence. His body reacted to their actions admirably. But this was not about Sherlock’s pleasure, it was about John’s. His hands reached down to pull John closer. “You heard me… do what you need to do.”

Frowning, John pulled away, sitting up. “I’m not going to ‘use’ you Sherlock. If we do this… it has to be for both of us.”

“Stop being so noble…” Sherlock sighed, looking away.

“No! I mean it! I like you, Sherlock. I really, really like you. In fact I love you. But this…” Helplessly John gestured at the both of them. “This is not something you can force on another person. Sex is about both of us… together… sharing ourselves. I will not ‘use’ you.”

Sherlock stared a moment and then dropped his eyes, pouting a moment. “I meant ‘share.’”

“Did you really?” The blonde sounded doubtful.

A slight nod and Sherlock flicked his eyes back up. “I just… want to give myself to you.”

John was silent, bowing his head in the darkness as if he could not bear to look at Sherlock. “I love you.”

“I know.” Sherlock replied quietly, unsure how to express himself adequately. Reaching out he pulled the shorter man back down against him, thrilled with the warmth of his skin. “I know, John.”

“Tell me again… why you left me. Why did you fake your death? I would have followed you, you know I would have. We could have taken on Moriarty’s assassins together. Am I not good enough for you to—“

“No! No, it wasn’t that. God, it wasn’t that.” Sherlock sighed. “If I didn’t jump then they would have killed you. They would have killed you… Mrs. Hudson… anyone I cared about… but mostly you. Moriarty found my heart. He knew where to aim to bring me the most pain. I couldn’t let him take you.”

“You could have told me. You told Molly.”

“She knew how much I cared for you. She read me better than I ever bothered to read her.”

“We haven’t talked about this… not really since you came back.”

Sherlock smiled, brushing his fingers through John’s short hair. “Yes, we have. Every night you crawled into my bed… we’ve talked… body language expresses as much as words.”

“Oh really? And what did I say?”

“You said… ‘Be there when I wake up in the morning.’”

John chuckled softly. “I’m not too heavy am I?”

“No. But I meant it… what I said before. I want you to take what you need from me. I’ll give you the world if it was in my power. I’m sure it’s in Mycroft’s power… and he owes me.”

“I don’t need anything, Sherlock… except to be a part of your life.”

“You need more than that, John.”

“I do?” John whispered, somewhat sleepy from the late hour.

“You’re not a virgin.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” John perked up a bit.

“You’re not celibate by nature.”

“I haven’t had that kind of relationship for years. I’ve gotten used to it.”

“No you haven’t.”

“Yeah?” John chuckled and shook his head. “You’re not letting this one go, are you? I know you’re celibate. I understand. We don’t have to have sex, Sherlock, I promise.”

“I think I will be a very selfish and jealous boyfriend to you, John.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll keep you to myself.”

“How is that any different than what we’ve been up until now?”

“I don’t want you to be with anyone else besides me.”

“Again… how is that any different-?”

“You can have no one else… not even for sex!”

“I…”

Sherlock growled and wrapped his arms possessively around the older man’s waist, “You’re MINE, John Hammish Watson!”

“Ok… I get it. I’m yours.” John propped himself up a bit on Sherlock’s chest, tracing idle patterns on the other man’s shoulder and chest, amusement on his face.

The detective sighed, pulling his knees up to rest John’s legs between his own legs.

John stopped his idle patterns, blinking at Sherlock in the darkness. The brunette’s fingers tangled themselves in John’s hair, pulling his head down to an almost chaste kiss. “You…” John tried to pull away but found himself caught. “You don’t have to… kiss me.” One of Sherlock’s hands slid down the soldier’s back, pulling him closer. “I know you don’t… love me… like that.”

Teeth caught John’s lip. “Shut up, John.” Sherlock whispered before pushing his tongue into John’s mouth.

John whimpered in reply, overwhelmed by Sherlock’s hands and mouth. The younger man rolled them over, straddling the other man’s hips and freeing his lips.

“Sherlock… please… you don’t have to…”

“I would be a very bad boyfriend if I left you unsatisfied. I need some sort of lubricant I think.” Reaching out, Sherlock groped for his night stand and found petroleum from an experiment. “Perfect.”

“Wait!” John caught the other man’s wrist. “Let me…” His hand took the jar and took a large glob before wrapping it around Sherlock’s penis.

Sherlock gasped and went very still, feeling John’s hand someplace so intimate. A part of him wanted to mindlessly rut against that delightful fist. “John…” His would be lover’s name escaped him as he rocked a bit. No one had ever touched him like that.

“Be gentle. Go slow.” John whispered as he used his newfound leverage to urge Sherlock to rearrange their position.

Of course Sherlock obeyed. With John’s gentle guidance he found someplace he never expected… so warm and tight. There was a moment when he wanted to thrust with wild abandon but John’s gasps in his ear reminded him of his fragile partner. “I think… I’m about to die…” Sherlock breathed deeply, fighting to regain control.

“Not without me.” John replied directing a slow tempo. “You’re a part of me now.”

A soft whimper escaped the detective as John’s words echoed in his skull. It was rather literal… being a part of John. It was amazing that a part of his body fit within John’s own. The realization hit him… he was having sex for the first time and it felt good… really good. Seeing John’s face in pained concentration with the short gasps… he was beautiful. There was nothing Sherlock wanted more than to possess this flawed and yet wonderful creature that held him. His hips paused as he strained his eyes in the darkness to look at John.

John opened his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” Words failed him and he leaned down to kiss the older man.

John reached out and grazed his fingers on those sharp cheekbones. “Tears? You’re crying.”

Confused Sherlock checked his own eyes and verified John’s observation. “I guess I am.”

“You’re not supposed to cry during sex.” John teased, chuckling softly and wrapping his arms around Sherlock’s neck. “Unless you want to stop that is…”

“Why would I want to stop?” Resuming his shallow thrusts, Sherlock nestled his face against John’s neck, taking in his warm scent.

“I think I’m getting used to it.” John mused, wrapping a leg around the younger man’s hips to tilt his pelvis slightly. “Oh… Oh wait!” The other leg joined the first. “Ok… More.”

Silently Sherlock obeyed, building slowly.

“Sherlock, you’re…” Giving out a loud moan of approval, John’s legs held tight. “You found… good spot. Harder!”

And with that Sherlock gave everything he had, encouraged by moans and cries for more. It didn’t last too long. Inexperience won out and he exploded in mind numbing pleasure. “Oh God, John…” Beneath him John wiggled, trying to keep the momentum going. Within a few moments John cried out, warm wetness spurted between their stomachs. “John… John…” Sherlock sighed, lazily kissing the face of the one underneath him.

John’s hands rested on Sherlock’s back, slightly digging his nails into the sweaty flesh. “I’ve never done that before.”

“And you think I have?” Sherlock replied, sliding off so John could breathe properly.

“No… I… I don’t know.”

“Mycroft bought me a couple of prostitutes for my 18^th birthday. Male… female… he didn’t know which I would prefer. They were both very professional… clean… high end escorts.”

“What happened?” John whispered, knowing Mycroft’s insults of “virgin” when it came to his brother.

“I sent them away. I couldn’t be bothered with them. I had things to do… cases to study even when I was only a teenager. I didn’t want to be bothered with carnal pleasures.”

“Maybe you weren’t ready.”

“I was ready. I had my first wet dream when I was 14 years old. No… I just didn’t have a place in my life for physical entanglements.” For a time Sherlock thought back on that day… the humiliation of finding two scantily clad bodies and his brother’s sneering words when they were sent away. “Every once in awhile he would send me someone to tempt me. For a brief moment when we met I considered that you might be one of his ‘presents’ but details about you didn’t add up… that and you don’t fit with his pattern.”

“Well I’m glad he’s stopped doing that.”

“He sent me Irene.”

John went silent, turning his head away and biting his lower lip. Sherlock knew the Woman was a sore subject with John. It was the first time John had shown real jealousy. It seemed the jealousy hadn’t yet faded. “Will he do it again?”

Wrapping his arm around his tense soldier, Sherlock smiled. “I don’t think there’s room enough for three people in this bed.”

John remained silent, staring up at the ceiling.

“Unless you think we need a bigger bed. But even then…” John’s silence was beginning to get to Sherlock, making him nervous. “I’m doing this wrong, aren’t I?”

John turned to look at Sherlock.

“I’m yours. I’ve been yours. Trust me?”

“It’s them I don’t trust.” John rolled over onto his side, facing Sherlock fully. “You could probably have anyone… provided you don’t insult them first. They must want you… as much as I want you. God, I sound pathetic. Don’t listen to me. I’m just… insecure. I’m afraid of losing this… what we have. You’re my best friend, you know that?” Lightly the older man’s fingers touched tangled curls. “What if they dazzle you with their brilliance and you’re swept away? You mentioned that I’m yours… rather insistently… but…”

Sherlock reached out to pull John closer, trying to bring comfort in some way… but so unsure how to do it. John was overanalyzing, creating barriers. “Stop. Stop it, John.” His hands cradled John’s head between them. “Listen to me.” Suddenly he found himself at a loss for words. Idly his thumbs caressed those soft lips, buying himself time to think. “John… fuck me.” It was completely random.

“What?”

“You heard me. Fuck me.”

“Didn’t we just…?”

“This time we switch positions.” Sherlock reasoned. “You’re on top. Come on.”

John laughed softly, shaking his head. “Sherl… I’m not some horny teenager. It takes me a little while to recover.”

“Would it help if I kiss you?”

“It might.” John found himself nearly smothered by an over eager partner intent on stealing his breath.

Sherlock really couldn’t help it. The need to express himself clearly made him just a bit manic. He needed John and he needed him NOW. His hand groped down to check on John’s progress, finding him half aroused. With a feral cry of delight he launched himself to where the petroleum jar had escaped to and slathered nearly half of it on John’s penis.

Meanwhile John was trying to catch Sherlock’s attention. “Wait! Just a sec… Sherl. SHERLOCK!”

Finally Sherlock paused in his quest. “What now?”

“You’re going to hurt yourself… or me. Slow down. Take a deep breath.”

“I AM breathing!” Sherlock gritted out between clenched teeth.

“Calm… Calmly. This isn’t a race. Just… calm.” During his admonishing John sat up, holding out his hands in a placating manner. “Now… calmly… don’t grip me quite so hard. It doesn’t like to be tugged on. Gently.” John caught Sherlock’s eye in the darkness. To his credit Sherlock slowed down. But that only lasted 10 seconds.

Sherlock pounced, pushing John roughly back onto the bed and straddling his hips.

“Yeah… I knew you were going to do that.” John sighed, looking up at the panting creature above him.

“Did you now?” Sherlock grinned. “So you must know I’m going to do this.” Bringing his face down he started to nibble and bite along John’s neck, sucking bruises to mark him.

“People will see that!”

“I don’t care!” Sherlock continued, his hips lazily grinding against John’s. Really he didn’t care. Let them all look at John’s marked neck and know that he was a claimed man. And they both would know just who it was that claimed even if the world didn’t know. Pulling back a bit he admired his work and met John’s eyes. “There. They will know you’re mine.”

John stared up at him in the darkness. “You are too naughty.” His voice held amusement.

Annoyed at the inability to see John properly, Sherlock leaned over and fumbled with the bedside lamp, filling the dark room with just enough light to see details. His attention immediately returned to his John, checking the intensity of the bruise he had created on that beautiful neck.

“Turning on the light? Naughty AND kinky.” John teased with a smile.

“I want to see you.” Sherlock replied, reaching down to check John’s progress. Casually he looked down to see the part of John he had been focused on for the past half an hour. Scooting back he got a better look in the light at the red, swollen member. It wasn’t as long as his own but it was wider. Experimentally his hand wrapped around it again now that he could see it. It was short and perfect just like John… cut, clean… Gently his hand stroked the organ, encouraging it to rise to its full glory. John’s gasp drew his attention back up to his partner.

“You don’t have to do this, Sherl. I’ll still love you even if you have second thoughts.”

Sherlock smiled, amused at John’s chivalrous nature even while his penis stood at attention in the younger man’s fist. Licking his lips he sat up a bit and scooted into place, positioning John where he thought the older man should be. It took some adjusting to place the tip at the correct spot. Finally he felt the tip enter him and he let out his held breath, unaware that he had been holding it during the finding process. Cautiously he sat down, using his weight to force John into his own body. It hurt. There was no way to deny t hat it hurt. John’s girth stretched him almost beyond endurance. But he kept at it, easing himself down until he was fully seated upon John’s hips. Only then did he look down at John’s face.

John stared up at him in awe. Mouth open, eyes wide… the doctor was in a state of shock. “Sherl…”

“Shh…” Sherlock replied, leaning down and gently moving his hips. “You are mine…” And with that the detective began to move, experimenting with movement on the best angles until he found the spot that had made John moan earlier. Delighted with the result he replicated that angle over and over again, moving quicker until his body really didn’t care what angle John filled him. Checking on John’s progress he found the other man soundlessly moving his mouth, eyes rolled up in the back of his head. “Look at me.”

John’s eyes opened wide as he stared up at the one above him. “I… you…”

With a smile Sherlock leaned down and kissed his lover, invading his mouth before rolling them both over so John could take over their movement. It took a considerable amount of trust to lay back as your lover took you, but Sherlock trusted this man with all of his being. John would never really hurt him. John loved him.

John took a moment to register that he was on top but once he figured it out he began to thrust, pushing deeply and powerfully.

Sherlock possessively wrapped his long legs around his John. “My John… Mine…” Helplessly he whispered words of endearment, feeling the power and the need of the soldier above him. It didn’t hurt… not anymore. All that was left was a hunger only the thrusts could satisfy… an ache for completion. As John sped up Sherlock held on tightly, trying to ride the other man’s need. As quickly as it started it ended with a loud moan. John went still his face screwed up as if he was in pain. And then something warm seeped deep within Sherlock’s bowels. Overwhelmed with John’s orgasm Sherlock quickly followed, his body reacting to his lover’s delight.

Sherlock roused first finding himself half under a rather lethargic doctor. Reaching out he ran a hand from the older man’s neck down his spine to his hips and rested his arm there. “I think… I love you too.” Sherlock whispered, feeling his own heart speed up.

John smiled and propped himself up on one arm. “Knew you had it in you.” With a groan he began to shift and get up from the bed, causing a small amount of panic from his new lover.

“Where are you going?” Sherlock demanded. It wasn’t like John to walk away after sharing something so… so intimate. Was it?

John turned and leaned on the bed, kissing Sherlock’s worried brow. “To the loo. I need to get something to clean us up.”

“Oh…” Sherlock replied, relief washing through him as he looked down at his groin and stomach. “We did get a little messy, didn’t we?”

“Tomorrow night I’ll teach you about fellatio. There’s less cleanup involved.” With another kiss John pulled away.

“But what if I wish to learn right now?”

John grinned. “You are going to wear me out.” With a wave of his hand he left for the bathroom.

Sherlock smirked in silence, resting against the pillows. John was well and truly his, of that he was confident.

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Nocturnal Preludes