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A Bit Better	By : VulpineBeesKnees Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 3330 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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John didn’t look away, contented to stare back at Sherlock in comfortable silence, until he heard the tea beginning to boil. Finally tearing his eyes away he poured the piping hot water over the tea bags, swirling them through the liquid by the string, willing them to steep faster. After a couple minutes he removed the bags, added to sugar to one cup, resolved to drink his own black, and headed for the sitting room. Setting his own cup next to his armchair he looked back to Sherlock and took a few quick steps so he was standing just inches from the green chair. He silently held out the steaming cup out to the detective who had been watching him so intently.
Sherlock had watched John make tea a hundred times before, but this time it seemed different. Not only was Sherlock impatient but he could see the tell tale signs that John was too. That thought alone made everything more interesting, and when the blonde finally closed the distance, he had to fight to keep the smirk off of his face. When he took the cup, his fingers brushed along John’s knuckles, but his eyes never broke contact as he set it aside. Once both hands were free, they raised to John’s hips, squeezing lightly once they found purchase there. He gave a soft pull, drawing the smaller man into his lap and consequently into his arms. They looped easily around John’s broad shoulders, and long fingers began softly kneading at the muscles.
“We’re alone now.”
John’s own hands fell to grip Sherlock’s hips softly as he nestled his nose against the detective’s neck, his lips finding purchase there for a moment before he responded. “I may not be the world’s only consulting detective, but I did manage to notice that we’re finally alone.”
Desire was quickly pooling at the pit of John’s stomach as his lips brushed up the side of Sherlock’s neck and along his jaw, not stopping long in any one spot. Tugging the edge of the flannel shirt up on one side John teased the soft skin where his hip dipped inward with his thumb. Brushing his nose against Sherlock’s he spoke again, his voice deep, altered by his own desires, “Are you bored already? Perhaps I should go find cluedo?”
“Don’t you dare.” he growled, his eyes flying open to narrow his eyes at John. A hand snaked up to thread through the older man’s hair, tipping his head back forcefully so Sherlock could nip sharply on the hollow of his throat.
“Fortunately I have someone to keep my boredom at bay. Tell me John, is it my turn to play doctor?” he drug his lips up to the blonde’s ear, “Do I get to strip you down and examine you?” His tongue traced the shell of John’s ear as the hand on his hip slid around to the small of his back to rock their hips together.
John let out a soft groan before bearing down into the soft cushion with his knees to work open the flannel shirt. This proved to be more difficult than he’d expected as his fingers fumbled with the buttons. The heat of Sherlock’s mouth working it’s way across his skin was almost too distracting, but he managed.
Soon enough John had worked open the soft purple shirt and pushed it from detectives shoulders. Sitting back he admired Sherlock, greedily letting his eyes dance across his body before dipping back down against his neck, softly and biting at the skin softly, working his way up until their lips met.
John tried to keep things slow, he really did. The last time had been so desperate and fleeting he figured it was only right that they slowed down.
It didn’t work.
Something about the insanity of the past week made any logical thought disappear as their kiss deepened. His hands worked their way back down Sherlock’s chest, one slipping around his back to pull their bodies closer together as the other fell back to his hip. John let his fingers skirt along the waistband of Sherlock’s jeans, brushing at the sensitive skin suggestively as his tongue ran across the others lower lip.
“Whenever you’re ready, doctor.” John finally murmured against Sherlock’s lips with a soft chuckle. He hadn’t taken Sherlock for one to play games like this, but he had to admit he was quite enjoying it.
Sherlock hummed contentedly before his fingers slid up and over John's shoulders. The war of eagerness and desire to take things slow waging within John was obvious, and he smirked as his long fingers popped the first button agonizingly slow.
"What am I treating you for?" He asked, fingertips slowly tracing down the exposed skin to the next button. A soft noise, almost a groan, escaped John’s lips as he realized Sherlock’s intent, but he continued the slow process, popping each button through with his thumb as he came across them.
"An upset stomach, or perhaps chest pains?" Once he'd made it all the way to John's trouser line, he pulled the shirt free, and let his fingers curl around his sides, warm hands slipping beneath the fabric.
His lips began to assault John’s collar bones, nipping and sucking small lovemarks around the dark ones already there. "It looks like you've been abusing your body. These marks are dark..." He nipped playfully at one of the bruises and soothed it with his tongue, "you need to take better care of yourself." His words were a feather light whisper against one dusty rose nipple before his tongue came out to trace the hardened nub.
John rolled head back and arched his back, his body desperate for more. Between sharp breaths he managed to mutter, “Great deduction.” He was halted as Sherlock moved to the other side of his chest, teasing the other nipple hard. The sudden sparks of pleasure caused John to shudder slightly before he could speak again.
“Was rather hoping you’d take care of me.” His words dripped with implication as he rolled his hips against the detectives, toying with the button of trousers with one hand.
A low noise rolled through Sherlock's chest, he knew John was asking for so much more than his immediate needs, and luckily he was saved from answering too deeply by the hand fumbling with the fastenings of his jeans.
"If I'm to take care of you, you have to let me work." He muttered, brushing the hand away and capturing both of them with his left, clasping them together in the small of his back. John wriggled softly, surprised by the sudden dominance, but Sherlock was quick to answer his wordless question, "Can't have you interfering with my exam now can we?" His tone was light, but his eyes burned with intense passion as he returned to nibbling his way down John's rib cage, slowly pushing John back as he did so. When he reached his belt line, a warm tongue ran just under the edge of John’s jeans before pushing against his back and arms, enticing him to sit up on his knees.
He groaned as John more than willingly complied. His right hand came up and flicked the button open easily, tugging the zipper down with a little more urgency than the lazy kisses he'd been giving before. John leaned his head back, letting out a soft moan. His member seemed to strain forward, begging for the detective's attention. Attention he had every intention of bestowing.
"Why John I didn't know you could be so excited by so little." He murmured, his eyes taking in the sight of his erection as it slipped through the slit in his pants, positively dripping with need, "I had expected more resilience from you...." His last snarky dig was given, and he surged forward slightly, taking the head of John’s cock into his mouth, eager for the experimenting to begin. Sherlock knew people assumed, if he were sexual at all, he would be a selfish lover, but his desire to be flawless did not stop with his deductions.
Lips parted, John's head tipped forward watching in awe. Their eyes met for a moment before Sherlock's fell closed, humming seductively against the others member. All thoughts of their game faded from Johns mind as the detectives tongue swirled around the sensitive glan.
Writhing in Sherlocks grasp John drew his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down harder than entirely necessary. The detectives eyes flitted up again watching Johns reaction as his cheeks hollowed, slowly taking in his length.
The reaction was instantaneous. "Jesus Sherlock," he moaned slowly, forcing his hips to still even as his body begged him to press forward into that delicious moist heat.
Not able to resist the taunt, the detective flattened his hand against John's pelvis, his thumb and forefinger encircling the shaft tightly as he pulled his mouth from it with a small pop.
"Just Sherlock will do." His tone was light, and he looked up into John's face, their eyes locked as his fingers gripped the base, delivering a long delicious stroke up the hardened flesh. A pink tongue came out to swipe some stray saliva from his lower lip as he gauged John's reactions, fingers changing slightly in grip and position until he found one that made John positively putty in his hands.
Finally, his left released John's wrists in favor of sliding the denim down over his backside, and in a spontaneous move, he wrapped his left arm around his back and his right arm under one thigh as he pushed him down to the floor. A simple rock of their weight and he was on top of the soldier, splitting his legs around his hips and nipping at his ribs, fingers still lazily stroking him. Entranced by the attention John lay back, silent and still, his limbs splayed out on the floor as his chest rose and fell shakily.
Kissing his way back up to his ear, Sherlock laved over the flesh, letting the smaller man hear the harsh pants that were coming from him now before he spoke. "I want to find out what makes you tick John. I want to open you up and discover how you function..." He inwardly chuckled at himself, the dirty talk of a genius was interesting indeed.
Those words should not have had such an effect on John, but of course they did. He wasn’t sure if it was the sultry tone or just knowing that all of Sherlock’s attention was focused on him, but he shivered involuntarily all the same. He arched his neck back slightly, opening up the area to be explored, as he whispered, “Promise?” There hadn’t been much forethought to the question, but John was finding the idea of the detective meticulously working out everything about him, likely things he wasn’t even aware of, ridiculously alluring.
The detective smirked at the question, "Fact." He said simply letting his hands move from John's arousal to begin exploring. As he did, he murmured little things about how John likes his nipples played with, and how he could tell because of how loose he kept his clothing. "So you don't get aroused in public." He stated.
Yes, John thought to himself as the rapid deductions washed over him, having Sherlock’s full attention was definitely something he could get used to. Realizing his hands were free he began exploring the detectives body. The stronger hand grazed down Sherlock’s back, blindly tracing the soft scars he’d yet to explore but knew were there, while his weaker arm laced through the ginger hair. Gripping at it softly he pulled the younger man back slightly, placing a languid kiss to his lips.
Sherlock had kept up the string of deductions until he was pulled into a long kiss that sent his blood rushing through his veins. John's tongue in his mouth was fueling him higher, and he knew that he couldn't get lost in those kisses if he wanted to obtain all the information he'd set out to find.
Pulling back, his breath puffed over John's face as he centered himself. "Stop distracting me." He said simply, and then his hands were pulling the jeans all the way off, leaving John practically naked for him. The rug beneath them pulled taught as Sherlock slid his hips backwards, his shoulders now even with John's pelvis. "I'm afraid things went a little fast last time, and I'll not deny that the thought of driving you insane without the limits of my own stamina is one I desire to experiment with." One hand lifted to John's mouth, fingers pressing insistently at his lips.
"Open." Came the short command as his own mouth followed suit, letting his tongue glide over the sensitive skin on the underside of John's arousal.

John barely had time to consider what exactly Sherlock meant by experiment before the command was spoke. He quickly obliged, his lips parted easily and as the cool fingers slipped in he closed his lips tightly around them. Sucking softly the doctor swept his tongue across the digits, amazed by the dual sensation.
His tongue swirled between the fingers, only to stop as Sherlock’s tongue managed to do something to his cock unbeknownst to John, that left him gasping. His jaw fell open, the long fingers not nestled in his mouth were wrapped delicately around his bottom jaw. John wondered for a moment where Sherlock had learned this, but he quickly decided he didn’t want to know. His thoughts didn’t last long anyways as it seemed the detective was quickly figuring out exactly how to pick apart his blogger. Nipping softly at the fingers in his mouth John moaned as his back arched, pressing his body closer to Sherlocks.
To say that Sherlock was unaffected by the situation was a blatant lie. Feeling the doctor coming undone beneath his ministrations was intoxicating, and Sherlock knew that he was slowly replacing his other addictions with more of John the longer they spent in each other’s arms. Finally he pulled his fingers away, the subliminal pleasure too much to bear and his soft groan echoed John’s at the loss of contact.
Sweet reassurances fell from his lips across John’s hips almost thoughtlessly as his spit slick fingers traveled down to circled the tight sensitive bud. He took the head of the other’s manhood in his mouth as one digit slowly slid inside of the blonde. He had been prepared once, and it was barely sufficient then. Sherlock would have him writhing before he allowed himself the pleasure of sinking into that tight heat this time.
John’s body didn’t tense quite as much as before, now that he knew what to expect. A small hiss escaped his lips, slowly giving way to a guttural moan as Sherlock expertly worked his way in, teasing just enough to keep John distracted. One hand softly threaded through Sherlock’s hair as his neck arched back. The detectives name rolled off his tongue like a mantra as he gradually relaxed.
He was slow, and diligent, and when the finger was finally seated fully inside of him, he allowed him a few moments, waiting for the tell tale squirming before he pulled it out slowly, almost completely and pressed back in. The long digit crooked on the outwards stroke as he set up a lazy pace, searching for the bundle of nerves that he knew would relax the doctor in an instant and reduce him to a quivering, pleading heap.
It wasn’t long before Johns body writhed, his hips thrusting upward indicating that Sherlock found what he was looking for. The fingers in Sherlock’s hair gripped desperately as a deep guttural moan ripped from his chest.
“Sherlock...” John’s voice was deep as he lifted his head to gape down at the ginger, his bottom lip caught between his teeth keeping him from moaning again from the sight alone.
The hum that vibrated through his throat and down the other man’s cock almost sounded like a question. It was as if he was asking what the smaller man wanted. When his eyes rose to meet the blue ones above him, they were sharp and observant. He knew what John wanted, but he wanted to hear it.
Feeling particularly wicked, he relaxed his jaw, letting the shaft slide further into his mouth as he replaced one finger with two on the next in stroke. Taking John deep in his throat,he let his saliva build up so that it slid down to better lubricate his ministrations. The smaller man’s head fell back to the floor with a soft thud as his hips rolled into the detectives hand.
His own arousal was becoming unbearable as the doctor responded so well under his skillful hands. The desire to just bury himself deep inside was overwhelming, but feeling John squirming beneath him was a pleasure all it’s own.
John wasn’t sure he could handle much more. Sherlock seemed to have worked him out, he knew exactly just how far to push him so he was teetering on the edge, overwhelmed . Moans of pleasure were readily falling from his tongue now, mixed with attempts at speech. “Sh’lock... please...” The plea was almost a growl, as his hand fell listlessly to the carpet, unable to keep any sort of focus.
That simple plea was all it took to break the careful concentration Sherlock had been employing to make sure John was open and ready for this. He pulled his fingers out of John, and smirked softly at the sound of disappointment he heard from beneath him. He rocked back onto his heels, for a moment before standing.
“Stay.” He said shortly.
John barely had time to question Sherlock’s motives before he returned with the bottle of lube. Sherlock made quick work of his trousers, sliding them down his hips along with his pants before kicking them, and his shoes, off. The man beneath him watched greedily as Sherlock finally freed himself. A soft pink tongue traced along his lips, eyes blown with desire.
Once divested of the last barrier between them, he pressed between John’s legs once more, verdigris eyes watching him as he popped open the lube. Once he was sure he was slick enough, his hands moved to lift both of the doctor’s knees to his shoulders. The smooth skin pressed against his stubbled face as he slowly lined himself up and let his body sink into John’s. A low guttural groan ripped it’s way through his chest, and as he leaned forward to kiss the blonde beneath him, it rocked John’s body into a position that did hell on his nerves.
The first small thrust was experimental, and as tendrils of pleasure shot up his spine, his next thrust was not so gentle. It felt like John was surrounding him completely, and his mind that had been chattering nonstop since he’d checked in to the hospital, went blissfully silent. ”John...” he moaned softly, their eyes meeting once more as he pulled out almost completely before pressing back in as deep as he could go.
Gripping Sherlock’s hip with one hand, encouragingly pulling him in, John stroked himself in time with their thrusts. He kept their gaze locked as long as he could, but eventually it all became too much and his eyes fluttered shut as he breathed out Sherlock’s name.
When John felt the desire coiling deep inside of him he stilled his hand, fingers digging into the back of Sherlock’s thigh. His eyes flew open once again, catching Sherlock’s as the world began to fade. He gave Sherlock a small nod, permission to take what he wanted and a desperate plea for him to give everything.
“Come on Sherlock.” he groaned encouragingly, his nails biting softly into his skin.
It sent a spiral of unreadable pleasure low into Sherlock’s stomach. With a animalistic noise low in his throat, Sherlock nipped at the inside of the doctor’s thigh sharply before hooking his thumbs around his knees and pushing them back to his chest.
The angle allowed him to slam directly into John’s prostate with each rough thrust, not to mention the pleasant way it allowed Sherlock to slip completely inside of him. The tightness was maddening as he gripped tightly where his hands had stayed on the backs of John’s knees. His hips were pistoning with a force he hadn’t known he’d had, and three words repeated through his mind. John... mine... take... take. mine!

His breath was heavy and hot as his eyes traveled down where their bodies met. The sight was so dirty and sinful that he found his teeth grit together to keep him from babbling incessantly. His mind was so full of John and his illegally tantalizing body, that he came to the precipice much quicker than he intended. A thin hand left John’s leg to reach between them and stroke his throbbing cock in time with his thrusts.
“John...” he panted, silently expressing with his eyes how close he was and how much he needed the man to come with him.
A devilish grin pulled at Johns lips. He was finally seeing Sherlock absolutely aching for release and damn him to hell if it wasn’t the more gorgeous sight he’d ever seen. It dawned on him why Sherlock wanted to find out how he ticked. Seeing the man above him falling to pieces was utterly intoxicating.
“Fuck Sherlock.” He cried, pressing back into the thrusts.
It only took a few simultaneous thrusts from Sherlock before John was writhing in ecstasy. One arm left Sherlock’s thigh as he reached his peak to bury his face in the crook of his elbow. White lights flashed behind John’s eyes as he began to spill out over Sherlock’s hand still working on his member.
As the orgasm crashed over him John snaked the arm thrown across his face up to cup the back of Sherlock’s neck, pulling their bodies closer together. His expression had changed to something feral. His voice was a thick growl when he spoke.
“Come. Now.”
John was using his officer voice. Sherlock had become familiar with that tone from the HOUND case. It was authoritative, non nonsense and demanded to be obeyed. So Sherlock did.
A shuddering moan gurgled from his throat as he pressed all of his weight into John, toes flexing, trying to push himself deeper than before as all his muscles tensed. His orgasm ripped almost painfully through his body, every one of his nerve endings lit up as he poured into the smaller man. When his muscles began to relax, soft tremors wound their way up his spine, forcing him to collapse on top of the blonde in a quivering heap of bliss. His lips lazily found John's and he held him there in the post coital haze, kissing him chastely, unwilling to give even an inch of room until he came down from his adrenaline high.
The couple lay there for a few minutes in a hot, sticky mess of limbs until John began moving beneath the detective. He knew he’d be paying for their choice of venue by morning, it’d been worth it of course. Rolling Sherlock to the side he sat up a little to grin sheepishly down at the younger man, their legs still intertwined
“Welcome home, detective.” His voice was playful, but one hand rubbed at the back of his neck in a nervous gesture.
Sherlock grunted noncommittally in response, burrowing back into the warmth of John's body, tucking his chin down and his forehead against the doctor's chest. One arm looped over his waist and splayed his fingers over the warm skin of his back.
"I suppose it wasn't tea I needed..." He said offhandedly, "care for a nap?"
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