Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

The Line of His Fingers	By : Leloi Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 2806 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Sherlock BBC universe or the characters herein. They are fictional. Make no money.

Chapter List
- 1-The Line of His Fingers
- 1
This was written for the Johnlockchallenges gift exchange... for Holyfant.
******
Sherlock had a violinist’s hands… that is to say they were long tapered fingers that bent to press fingertips to strings and create a lovely tone. John could watch Sherlock play for hours. Fingertips pressed, thumb supported and wrist would shake to produce a pleasing vibrato. The detective and instrument were one being gently tucked under a well sculpted chin.

Mycroft insisted that Sherlock lacked sentiment. How many times had the elder Holmes scoffed at the idea that his brother had the soul of a lover? “Really, John? You’re talking about a piece of wood. It creates a pleasing sound and that is all. Sherlock does not love his violin as a lover.”

But John knew better. His eyes glued to the wooden instrument that was so lovingly caressed and coaxed by graceful fingers to sing… something in John knew better than to trust Mycroft’s words. And in the deepest pits of John’s soul he envied that string instrument more than he ever had the Adler woman.

One night John sat on the sofa watching Sherlock play in the semi-darkness. The power was out due to heavy snow and candles had been lit so they wouldn’t bump into furniture. Without heat from the furnace to keep them warm a fire had been lit in the fireplace and Sherlock gently rocked before the flames, coaxing out the melody line for Barber’s Adagio for Strings.

“It’s beautiful…” John whispered after the last quivering note was played. “Makes me wish I had stuck with the clarinet.”

Sherlock beamed as he often did when lavished with John’s praise. Then he shivered.

“You’re cold… come here.” John offered a part of the blanket he had wrapped around his shoulders.

“The fire is warm.”

“So is the blanket.” John replied.

“How about bringing the blanket in front of the fire?” Sherlock suggested as he put away his violin.

John got up and padded towards the fireplace to sit on the floor before the hearth. “Sit.”

Silently Sherlock obeyed and allowed the other man to wrap part of the blanket around him. Together they shivered side by side.

“I’ll be happy when we get the power back.” John accidentally brushed his fingers against Sherlock’s. “You’re freezing!” Quickly hands were assessed and held tightly in his own hands. Sherlock’s long, pale fingers comfortably fit within his own. “Why don’t you wear gloves?”

“I can’t play with my fingers covered.”

“You’re not playing now.” John replied tightening his hold of Sherlock’s chilled hands.

“Too much effort to go fetch them. Besides you are doing a great job of warming them.”

John brought their hands to his face and breathed on them as he gently rubbed the circulation into frigid digits. “John Watson… better than gloves.”

Sherlock chuckled softly, allowing his companion physical liberties with his person as he sometimes thought of it. John was special. He was allowed to touch if he pleased. Sherlock knew John had his best interests at heart. Time and again the doctor proved he had the detective’s back and Sherlock trusted him completely.

John assessed more skin. “You are… really cold. This isn’t good, Sherlock. Hypothermia could be a problem.” With a sigh the doctor got up and began to gather more blankets. “Stay there.”

“I wasn’t really planning on going anywhere.” Sherlock replied, watching John gather his coat and the bedding from his bedroom. “What are you doing?”

“We’re camping out in front of the fire tonight. You’re dangerously close to hypothermia.” The blankets and bedding made a pile on the floor. “Take off your clothes and get under the blankets.”

“John…” Sherlock mused with a smile. “If you wanted to take me to bed all you had to do was ask.”

John rolled his eyes. “I’m serious. We’ll share body heat. But first you need to take off your clothes and get under the blankets. I’ll go make us some tea.” John headed off to the kitchen grateful for the gas burners that only needed a spark to light. After he made a pot of tea he took it to the living room and set it before the hearth along with the mugs. Pouring one for Sherlock he set it in his hands. “Drink this.”

“Yes Captain.” Sherlock teased, wrapping his long, pale fingers around the warm mug. Giving the mug a sip he moaned in satisfaction. “Warm.”

John began to undress down to his pants and got under the blankets before taking his own mug. “Better?”

“Better.” Sherlock agreed, sipping his tea. “I’ve been in worse conditions, you know…”

“But I’m a doctor. I know how bad it can be for you. You forget I was in the desert. We dealt with hyperthermia and hypothermia… sometimes within 24 hours.” Reaching out, John checked Sherlock’s temperature, starting with the exposed parts and working his way to more telling places such as under arm and inner thigh. “You’re still cold.”

“I have you to take care of me… Dr. Watson.” Sherlock set his mug down and scooted closer.

John wrapped his arm around his companion, trying to get comfortable with the other man. His hand slid down the bare skin of Sherlock’s side, noticing the lack of cloth at the hip or across the ass. “You’re naked.”

“You told me to take off my clothes.” Sherlock replied.

“You could have kept your underwear.”

“Too late now. Besides… I’m comfortable.” Sherlock snuggled closer, running his hand down John’s side as if to mimic the other man’s motion. His hand stopped at underwear and fingers tangled themselves in the waistband. “Without you I’d be frozen or dead somewhere.”

John thought back on their first night together with the cabbie… how Sherlock almost took the poison. “Yeah… probably. But so would I.” John wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s shoulders, holding him close to share body heat and to reassure himself of his best friend’s existence. Idly his thumb rubbed against Sherlock’s scapula.

“You’re so warm. I could stay like this for a very long time and not get bored.” Sherlock mused, burrowing his hand under John’s back. “Well… maybe a little bored… but I’m sure you could come up with ways to entertain me and keep me in bed with you.”

John gasped at the innuendo, his cock giving a slight twinge. “Sherlock… that sounds…”

“A bit not good? Yes… I know. I don’t care right now.” Sherlock’s nose nuzzled against John’s neck. “I think I’m hard.”

John assessed Sherlock’s hip area and felt something warm and hard against his thigh. “Yes. Comes from rubbing up against me.”

“You’re hard too.”

“As I said… it comes from you rubbing up against me.” John chuckled and then sighed. “I’m sorry. Just bear with it for now. It will go away.”

“I’ve never slept with anyone.” Sherlock stated quietly. “I never wanted to. I always imagined it was… just a bit too indulgent for my transport. I could overcome it. When I was away at school the other boys in my dorm would tease me when I had a night emission. I was horrified that I couldn’t control it. When I grew older they stopped it was a blessing. I was free to be cerebral without worrying about my body betraying me. I could see what it did to those around me… lust… desire. It makes people stupid. They become preoccupied with whom they are going to shag next… or how to bend their lover to their will.”

John gently patted Sherlock’s back. “It’s alright… really it is. We’ll just lay here and stay warm. And then we’ll go to sleep and hope the power comes back on… or check into a hotel so we can use their power. Sherlock? Sherlock… what are you…?”

Sherlock had gone still during John’s suggestion, his face still pressed to the other man’s neck. But his hand… his beautiful talented hand probed under the fabric of John’s pants, teasing something very warm and very hard. “I can’t control it. I want something… from you. Please?”

“Does that scare you? The loss of control…” Reaching down John tried to refocus Sherlock’s fingers, entangle them with his own.

“No… oddly it doesn’t. Not at all.” Sherlock let out a laugh and tightened his grip on John’s hand a moment. “That’s insane! I know it is. All this time I’ve been terrified of losing control of my body and yet… not with you. Does that make me stupid?”

“No! Sherlock no… it doesn’t.” John rolled them onto their sides, lightly touching his friend’s face. “You’re the most brilliant person I’ve ever met. I respect you… love you. Yes, I love you. You’re my best mate and I would do anything for you, you know that… because I love you as a friend… a brother, I guess… but not like Mycroft because he can be a bloody GIT!”

Sherlock giggled softly. “He can be, can’t he? A complete tosser!” The shivers had stopped a few minutes before, banished by John’s body heat. “You make a much better brother.”

“Thanks.” John smiled and shut his eyes.

“Do you want me?”

John opened his eyes to a rather vulnerable looking Sherlock.

“What? What do you mean?”

Sherlock bit his lower lip and looked worried. “You’re my friend… my best mate… like a brother… but… can I? I mean can I touch you?”

John nodded and swallowed hard feeling a fresh rush of desire. “Of course. You can… anytime. I trust you…”

Sherlock freed his long fingers and reached again between John’s legs, sliding his hand under the waistband and gently fondling what he found there.

John flinched a bit, making Sherlock hesitate. “Your fingers are still a little cold.”

Sherlock nodded and wrapped his hand around John’s length. Watching John in the flickering firelight he seemed to search for reactions to his touch, squeezing and pumping softly. “Does it hurt?”

“No. Of course not.” John replied, trying to control his emotions.

“This is what the other boys would do to each other back in school. This and other things... Did you ever do this with your mates in school?”

John opened his mouth to respond but then gave a chuckle and gently shook his head. “Can’t say I did. I touched a breast once in secondary… but most of my experience came at uni. With girls… of course…” John bit his lip and reached down to stop Sherlock’s hand. “I’m… you have to stop.”

“Why?” Sherlock asked, looking concerned.

“It’s too much. I’m going to… finish.”

“But I want you to finish!” Sherlock replied, reaching again for John but was intercepted.

“Please… don’t… not like this. It would be bad manners for me to be the only one to finish.”

“Are you suggesting that I finish too?” Sherlock asked with eyes wide in surprise.

“Don’t you want to?”

Casually Sherlock shrugged. “Not really how things worked back in my school days.”

“Sherlock… if we do this it’s not going to be like what you saw in your school days. We are both grown men with needs and feelings.”

“Feelings…” Sherlock rolled his eyes.

John tapped his finger on Sherlock’s lips. “Yes. Feelings. I told you I love you. I care about you and how you feel, especially since this is your first time. My god, man… your FIRST! Do you have any idea how much pressure that puts on me to get it right? So you’re not emotionally scarred by the whole experience?”

“I’ve been told that I’m already emotionally scarred.”

“Says who?”

“My therapist…”

“You have a therapist?”

“Had a therapist. Part of the sobriety process when I got clean.”

“I didn’t know…”

“That’s how I knew yours was full of shit!”

John shook his head to pull himself out of the quick conversation. “We changed the subject.”

Sherlock smiled and casually resumed caressing John’s thigh with his fingertips.

“Right… sex. Your first time.”

“Try not to think about it like that. It’s just something I never felt the urge to get rid of before.”

“So now is the perfect time while we’re both freezing our asses off in front of the fire place?”

“I could play for you instead. You seem enthralled with my playing.”

“Because you have so much passion for it.”

“We’re off topic again.” Sherlock snuggled closer to John, taking in his musky scent.

“We need to do this right.”

“No we don’t. We can just improvise and make a glorious mess of it. It will be loads of fun just like everything else we do together.”

“How can you say that? You’ll lose control of your mind… and you’ll hate that!”

“John…” Sherlock looked up at the other man. “I trust you. Completely.” Lightly his fingers traced one of John’s nipples. “Teach me how to please you. I want to learn. Please?”

And John was a sucker for Sherlock’s pleas. He had been from the moment he moved in and met the infuriating wonderful man. It didn’t help that Sherlock’s fingers seemed to be equally talented playing John’s body as playing the violin. “Of course.” John caught those fingers and kissed their tips. Burrowing down under the blanket with his companion he kissed inexperienced lips and used his own hands to steady careless rutting.

Sherlock helplessly pressed himself against John’s body, surprised at his own erection as well as how wonderful it felt rubbing up against John’s warm skin. Strong hands guided him so he was on top of the shorter man. John’s hand wrapped around them both and Sherlock cried out, mindlessly moving his hips to a primal rhythm he had seen but had never understood… until then.

“Sherlock… mmm…” John whimpered and went still, clutching the other man. Something wet spurted between them. “Shit…”

Sherlock grinned and moved his hips again, delighted at John’s reaction. “Good…?”

“Damnit, Sherlock… roll over!”

Sherlock obeyed, confused at the command and then to see John burrow further under the blankets, making his way to his… oh. “OH!”

John held down Sherlock’s hips with one hand and wrapped his hand around Sherlock’s cock as he sucked and lapped at the glorious organ. Sherlock’s fingers tangled themselves in his hair and he grinned to think what sort of affect he was having on the normally stoic man.

Sherlock moaned and rolled his head back, trying to push more into John. It felt… wonderful. “John… oh god, John…”

John continued to bob, taking in as much as he could, feeling a little sad to know that he was Sherlock’s first… first in frottage… first in oral sex. The hand on Sherlock’s hip, moved down and teased between Sherlock’s buttocks, finding something puckered. His finger slipped in and he felt Sherlock buck up against his face, crying out. Quickly he pulled off to assess the reaction. “Good or bad?”

Sherlock shook his head, eyes unfocused. “More.”

John went back to sucking, finger pressing deeper until… there.

Sherlock cried out and wrapped a leg around John’s shoulders, pulling him closer as his long fingers tangled in short hair. “John…”

His name was the only warning he received before Sherlock climaxed, filling his mouth and he swallowed it all. They lay together, Sherlock gasping for air as he clung to John. John content to just to rest against Sherlock’s hip, feeling delightfully intimate with the strange, wonderful man. Gently he pulled his finger out.

“You… you had your finger…”

“Prostate. I found your prostate.”

“Is that why men bugger each other?”

John chuckled and kissed the nearest skin he could find, Sherlock’s belly. “You tell me. Did you like it?”

“I think we should explore that avenue later. Right now… I’m tired.”

John crawled back up Sherlock’s body and lay down beside him companion. “I hope it wasn’t too bad.”

Sherlock rolled over against the other man, “You’re bloody insane! It was… was… better than a million cases.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“I want more… but right now I’m too tired.”

“Sleep, love. Tomorrow we’ll have our power back… and if not we’ll find some place that has power and stay there.”

Idly Sherlock’s fingers drew patterns on John’s skin. “Someplace with a hot shower and a comfortable bed.”

“Yes… that would be nice, won’t it?”

“Where I can bugger you over and over.”

“Ambitious, aren’t we?” John teased, wrapping his arms around Sherlock. “There is such a thing as a refractory period, you know… that’s why you’re so tired right now.”

“What about you?”

“Practice helps…”

“Then we shall practice.” Sherlock stated.

John chuckled and wrapped himself around Sherlock protectively. “There’s so much more I can teach you.”

“I want to learn it all.” Sherlock’s eyes closed and his breathing was evening out.

“Of course love… you will.” Lightly John kissed Sherlock’s forehead and took his hand, tangling their fingers together. “Go to sleep.” Within moments Sherlock was snoring softly and John watched him, imagining what those fingers could do when they acquired some skill at playing John. His cock twitched with interest but he was ready for sleep as he snuggled closer to keep the other man warm, holding long, pale fingers to his chest.
- 1
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Line of His Fingers