I won't kill you. (SherlockxMoriarty, violent)

John froze when he took in Sherlock's words.
"What?" he exclaimed, his hand stopping on the detective's ass, finally his thoughts catching up with him and making him put the pieces of the puzzle together.

"You've never...?" he asked flabbergasted.

What were they doing?

Sherlock was a virgin?

He couldn't possibly do it like this!
Sherlock was under the influence of drugs and he was angry and frustrated, this was not how it was supposed to go at all!
And why was Sherlock even doing this?
How could he want him if he had never wanted anyone before?

No, there had to be a catch.

"You mean... with a man?" he asked, blinking.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and collapsed onto his back again by John's side, the other man's hesitation ruining the moment somewhat. He turned to face him, still hard and throbbing, his hand tracing down John's chest and gripping his erection, lightly palming it.

"No John..." he sighed. "Let me make it perfectly clear. What we're doing right now...This is further than I've ever got with anyone. Ever. I had one kiss with a girl at University. She tried to put her hand down my pants and I told her to back off. That's as far as it got."

He sat up again impatiently. "Now are we going to do this or what? Otherwise I'll get bored and take the rest of the cocaine...the last lot's starting to wear off."

Now, that was just unfair.
There was no way in hell John could think when Sherlock was palming his erection, shocks of pleasure lashing up his spine.

"Mm, girl, university, right," he mumbled, leaning closer because now he needed a kiss, but at the last second he was grabbing Sherlock's wrist, making him stop.

What the hell is going on?

"You will throw that cocaine away, Sherlock, and if you ever do it again, I will be out that door and out of your life so quickly that you won't even be able to say goodbye," he hissed, his nails digging in the other's pale skin.

"No!" Sherlock cried and sat bolt upright in bed, his chest burning with the pain of John's words, his mind in a turmoil. The thought of his life without John in it was impossible. "I...I'll throw it away," he stammered, running his hands through his hair, stressed out now. "I won't do it again I swear."

Sherlock really hoped he could keep that promise and he bit his bottom lip, knowing how hard he'd found it to quit last time. He could already feel his body starting to demand more. "Mm you might...you might have to help me though," he added quietly. "And I'll help you walk again."

"You better keep your promise," he said, his hand wrapping around the back of Sherlock's neck and pulling him closer. "I let my sister fool me for years about her addiction, I am not going to go through that again... You've got one chance Sherlock, only one, don't blow it," he hissed, his hand sliding in his hair.

"You start with helping yourself," he mumbled, their lips again oh so close. "I will walk eventually."

Sherlock frowned, feeling terribly guilty and apologetic. Why did he always have to go and ruin everything, he wondered to himself.

"I won't let you down John," he whispered, shuffling his body closer to John's, then gently pushing their lips together in a chaste kiss. "I...I do...I do love you y'know," he added quietly.

His fingers grazed along Sherlock's hairline and along his jaw, slowly and imperceptibly pulling him closer, leaning into the kiss, but not letting himself give in completely.

"Those are just words, Sherlock," he muttered, blue eyes restless on his face, a bit weary about letting himself enjoy this again.
"I want proof, I need proof, I need you to prove that... don't let me down, Sherlock..."

Sherlock moaned against John's lips, desperate for attention and frustrated by him holding back again. He wrapped his arm around the other man's waist, attempting to press their bodies further together.

"What...what do you need me to do?" he whispered. "To prove to you....to prove that I won't let you down?" He stared into John's eyes sincerely.

"I need you to give up the drugs," he muttered, his fingers moving down Sherlock's neck and along his shoulder. "I need you to be stronger," his fingertips moving down his chest, around his nipples and along his hips.

"Now though, right now," he whispered against his lips, hand grabbing the other's ass, squeezing it softly. "I need you to have sex with me..." he added with a smirk. "I believe you said you were going to ride me..."

"I will," Sherlock promised, closing his eyes. "I...I'll throw the rest away." He felt like he could do anything as long as he had the support of his friend.

As John grabbed his ass Sherlock's eyes snapped open again and he began to smile. "You still want to?" He askedm "Well, I still do." He picked up the bottle of lube and handed it back to John. "Um...what were you going to do with this?"

"Good... I... I want to trust you again, Sherlock, I need you to prove to me that you deserve it," he whispered, smiling softly when Sherlock said he wanted to do it.

"Why, Sherlock? Why me?" he asked, taking the bottle of lube and squeezing a bit on his fingers. "You could have had anyone you wanted, you were never interested in anyone, but now, now you want me?"

"Anyone I wanted?" Sherlock repeated, and scoffed. "Oh come off it John...I'm not exactly good looking, no one's ever been interested in me. And why you? You really want to know...why you?" He reached out a long boney finger and traced it up and down John's chest thoughtfully. "Because you're the only person who's ever cared about me, the only person who's ever truly appreciated me, respected me, enjoyed my company, shared my sense of humour, the only person I've ever met who's vaguely intelligent instead of completely and utterly stupid."

Sherlock paused for breath having uttered so many words so quickly then blushed, realising he'd exposed his inner most thoughts and feelings in a way he'd never done before. No wonder he'd given up taking drugs if this is what it did to him. He inspected the reaction on John's face wondering what his friend was thinking, unable to read his expression. "And I think you look nice," he added, frowning at himself slightly at his inability to really explain what he meant. "I mean...I've never really seen people that way before but...I don't know...the more I look at you the more fascinating you seem to get John."

Sherlock's words hit him hard, they were touching and they felt honest, more honest than ever, and John had never thought the detective would or could feel like that.
John's world was a mess of anger and hatred at the moment, Sherlock seemed to want to shine a ray of light in it, but it came out in a twisted dysfunctional way. Could they really do it? Or were they going to make things even worse than before?

"You have no idea how beautiful you are, Sherlock," he muttered, shaking his head, his fingers still exploring, grazing along his jaw, as if framing his face. "But you are so cold sometimes... I just want to see your pale face twisted in feelings... twisted in pleasure," he breathed out.

He chuckled a bit at the compliments, he wanted to say that Sherlock was being completely ridiculous and that there was nothing fascinating in him, especially with his leg useless now, especially when he was getting older by the day. There was no point in arguing though, not when they could both get something out of this.
John was surprised to find himself wanting this, wanting Sherlock.
"I look nice, you say..." he teased him, his hand moving down his chest, circling Sherlock's erection. "Is that the best you can do?" he asked with a smirk. "We need to work on your compliment making skills..."

Sherlock smiled slowly and gazed into John's eyes. "You're being rude aren't you?" He smirked. "You want to see what my face looks like when you're...when you're...fucking me." He said the last two words slowly, enjoying the way they sounded from his lips.

Sherlock gasped and wriggled around as John's hand danced around his erection without actually touching it. "God," he muttered, "bloody hell..you're...you're teasing me." It felt so amazingly frustrating, he wanted nothing more than to feel John's firm fingers clasped around his aching length.

He leant forward and began to place eager kisses on John's cheek and down his neck, nibbling slightly at his ear, his breath short and desperate, "come on John," he whispered pleadingly, "let me show you what my face looks like when you're fucking me..."

John smirked back at Sherlock's words, and it was like a part of him shut down, the brooding and pitiful part of him had hid away and there was only the dark lust that burned in his needy body.

"Oh yes," he breathed out, his fingers still moving teasingly over Sherlock's hips. "I want to see you lose that cold exterior of yours..." he whispered, his voice dripping lower.

"You always look down on me, pitying my scarce intelligence and need for affection," his hands moving down the other's thighs to his knees. "And you are always distant and cold whatever happens..."

He looked into Sherlock's eyes, his own blazing with raw desire as his hands stroked back up his pale skin.
"I want to break that, I want you to become unable to act, I want to see you roll your eyes in pleasure, I want you to moan and scream my name," his nails now drawing red lines on his skin. "I want to tear you into little pieces and have you begging for it, begging for me to fill you up completely..."

John's words and the simple actions of his fingers tracing up and down his skin was making Sherlock lose his mind.

"Oh God," he muttered, trying to push his body in towards John's hand. Every inch of him was alive and tingling. He glanced down at himself and saw the size of his own erection with a small gasp. He had never been so turned on in all his life.

"Bloody hell John, you're good at this," Sherlock moaned, biting his lip excitedly. "What do you want me to do, beg?"

"Why did you take for granted that I wasn't?" he groaned, his fingers tapping on Sherlock's thighs. A few seconds later he was drawing circles on the tender skin of his inner thighs, so close to the other's erection, but still not quite there.

"Yes, I want you to beg," he moved his hands fast now, stroking up the other's back and making Sherlock lean on him so that their erections brushed against each other.

"I could fuck you right now, I could penetrate you without preparation, and it would hurt you so bad..." he breathed out, arching his back slightly as their hips rocked together.

"God," Sherlock whispered, shuddering and shivering at every touch, John's teasing fingers almost grazing where he needed them to be then quickly moving away again maddeningly.

And John expected him to beg. Him. The great Sherlock Holmes, reduced to begging for sex from an incapacitated ex-army doctor. He smiled slightly at the thought of it, knowing full well he was quite prepated to go ahead and do it.

"I don't care about preparation," Sherlock grinned, tossing the tub of lube in his hand to the other side of the bed and clambering on top of John, rubbing his erection up against the other man's. "I want it."

"Please," he added quietly, biting his bottom lip slightly. He found it demeaning and sexy at the same time. "Please John," he repeated, begging now. "Please. Please fuck me. And do it hard. Hurt me. I kind of...I kind of deserve it."

John couldn't help the grin on his lips when Sherlock started to plead, coupled with their hips rubbing together, it made him groan in need.
He wanted Sherlock, he wanted him more than he had ever wanted anyone, but his feelings were so skewed he also wanted to be in control, he wanted to punish Sherlock.

"Kind of?" He snorted, grabbing his ass and squeezing it viciously, pushing him up until Sherlock was again in the right position to ride him. He ran his arousal along the crack of his butt, loving the way it felt even through the condom.

"That's hardly enough Sherlock... you sound hardly convinced," he muttered teasing, his hands still on Sherlock's thighs, nails drawing patterns over the skin, and circling the most erogenous areas without never giving in.

Sherlock could feel John's erection tickling between the cheeks of his ass, and he wanted nothing more than to feel it pushed right up him. The teasing had become unbearable. He was desperate. He'd never felt so utterly consumed by passion and desire as in that moment, all thoughts pushed out of his head except the one basic need to have John inside him.

He contemplated the idea of just forcing himself down but he was enjoying the game, and the idea of John being in control was making his own arousal ache with need. He noticed with a small moan the tip was already leaking slightly and decided he was unable to wait any longer.

Sherlock bent closer leaning down over John's chest and gazing into his eyes, giving his best puppy dog look. When he spoke he realised his voice was shaking and husky. "Please," he whispered. "I need this...I need you to...to punish me John. I played a mean trick on you and I...I really deserve to be punished..."

John made the mistake of looking at Sherlock, running his eyes up and down, his friend was sweaty, his cheeks were red, his body was toned and tense, his arousal was proud and leaking, considering for how long he had wanted to see Sherlock in exactly this position, it was a miracle he wasn't coming right there.
"God," he muttered, trying to be strong, gripping at Sherlock's thighs so tight he surely was leaving bruises.

"You'll regret this, Sherlock," he hissed, gripping his hips to guide Sherlock up a bit, then one hand reached in between them and he was holding his arousal up, ready to push into Sherlock. "It's going to hurt... but I won't stop," he muttered, his eyes still burning as he looked at him.

"Don't move," he ordered, and he pushed his tip in, gasping at the tight feeling. God, he was going to hurt Sherlock, he was so bloody tight. Guilt and lust only made him feel more turned on though.

He gripped his hips again then, pulling Sherlock down and impaling him completely in a swift thrust, there was no point in waiting when he was going to hurt him anyway. He was only glad they had put some lube on him before.

John's fingers were digging into his skin but that was the last thing he was thinking about as his friend dragged him further up his body so he was in the correct position. He could feel the tip of John's erection right over his entrance and he stared into his eyes in eager anticipation, every nerve in his body on edge.

"OK," he mumbled at the orders, accepting them. "I'm ready for it." He placed his hands on John's shoulders and tried to relax, but suddenly he was being breached, the intense pain rippling through him. It only took two thrusts before John was completely inside but Sherlock's eyes watered as he gripped hold of John tightly.

"Fuck!" he swore, keeping perfectly still as John pushed into him, resisting the urge to pull away and make it stop. "Jesus Christ John!" Sherlock leaned forward slightly, taking a few deep breaths, feeling like he was getting ripped apart. "You've got a big...um...y'know..." He grinned. "I'll be alright...carry on..."

John's breathing was ragged by the time he was buried deep into Sherlock's ass, it hadn't been exactly smooth, but God it felt so good.
He looked at him, he saw the pain on his face, but somehow he still did not hesitate when he gripped his hips tight and pulled back till halfway before mercilessly pounding in again.

He moved his sane leg a bit, trying to support himself, and his abs tensed to the maximum point as he created a rhythm of thrusts, his body quickly filled with maddening pleasure. He knew he wouldn't be able to last long with this kind of extersion, but he hoped Sherlock would be able to ride him by the time he'd become unable to move further.

The pain was still burning through him and it was taking a lot of self control not to struggle away from John just to make it stop. He imagined it would pass eventually but John wasn't exactly giving Sherlock much time to get used to the situation either, pulling out then thrusting back in hard almost immediately, resulting in a yelp of agony escaping through Sherlock's gritted teeth.

Sherlock was surprised by the amount of power and strength John could muster from his position lying flat on his back, and as he watched the toned muscles flexing back and forth he couldn't help himself getting a little harder, realising almost for the first time how wonderful John's body looked.

His nails were still digging in hard to his friend's shoulders as he struggled to get used to the pain. After a few more thrusts from John's firm hips it slowly began to subside. He was left with a dull throbbing around his entrance but he soon found that occasionally the tip of John's erection would nudge teasingly against his prostate and he quickly forgot the pain every time that happened, moaning and shuddering rather loudly.

John calmed down increasingly as he noticed Sherlock started to moan, the other's face twisting in the sweetest expression when pleasure seemed to curse through his body, it was open and genuine, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He slowed down his thrusts, hands guiding Sherlock's hips lower on him and his own starting a more circular movement, aimed deeper.

"Come on, Sherlock, ride me," he ordered him, his lips curling in a grin. He knew he was asking for a lot, considering the pain he had caused him, but he also knew that they both needed it.