Let's have dinner.

"I'm glad too," Sherlock admitted. "Or this might never have happened..."

He lay back on the bed, his head on the pillow, feeling rather nervous about what was to come. He felt John's hand along his leg, and the warmth from his body heat nearby. Sherlock was surprised by John's sudden admission.

"Really?" he asked. "How...how long for? I mean...how long have you...?" He trailed off, hoping John could interpret his meaning without having to continue.

Then he wrapped an arm around John's shoulder and ran his fingers down the middle of his spine. "I guess we'll have to take some clothes off," he commented.

John blushed at the question, he wasn't sure how to answer. "I.. well... mm... I had a bit of a crush on you when we first met," he admitted, and bit on his lower lip. "I just... ignored it... in favor of being your friend..."

He looked at him a bit worried Sherlock would feel betrayed. "I didn't want to and I still don't want to ruin what we have Sherlock, you are the most important person in my life..." he whispered, shaking when he heard the rest of the other man's words. "I don't care about anyone else... I just care for you..." he admitted.

"Yes, right, clothes," he muttered, blushing again, starting to take off his jumper, looking at Sherlock in case he was regretting the decision.

Sherlock grinned at the thought of John having a crush on him. It was really quite a surprise. He had thought that John 'fancied' him originally, but then he was so vehement in denying it that he assumed he must have been mistaken. It was actually quite satisfying to learn he'd been correct all along.

"Right," he replied, and began to undo the buttons of his shirt. "Interesting. Bit pointless you going on all those dates then wasn't it?"

Sherlock sat up and looked into John's eyes thoughtfully, watching him remove his jumper. "I don't want to...ruin what we have either John," he replied softly. "What...what you mean to me I can't...put it into words..." He blushed and looked away, then quickly looked back again and before he could change his mind, grabbed John's chin and pulled him in for a deep passionate kiss.

John looked at him a bit shyly: "Well, mm, one has urges... and I was trying to get over you... you know," he muttered, knowing very well it had been a waste of time. "It didn't seem like you would appreciate my interest," he admitted.

"Don't worry about that... I don't need words," he whispered, welcoming the kiss a few seconds later, losing himself in the other's taste, instinctively pushing him back on the bed, rubbing their bodies together, savoring the other's warmth.
He wanted everything.

Sherlock moaned in surprise as John pushed him backwards onto the bed. His arms found their way around John, running his fingers up and down before making their way to the waistband of John's pants. He quickly undid the button and zip and yanked them down.

Sherlock broke off from John's lips to place frantic urgent kisses all along the man's jawline and neck, down to his shoulder and chest, his hands probing and searching, wanting to touch every part of his body. Sherlock's mind was completely taken over by desire...all he could think of was John...

The kiss seemed to blow his mind away, Sherlock's hands making his head spin and his chest fill with need and warmth. Pure instinct told him where to touch and how, and he didn't think as he let his clothes fall off, followed by Sherlock's. A few minutes later they were naked and tangled, exchanging kisses and caresses, exploring what was there to explore.

"I don't think I will ever get enough of this," he whispered, running his fingers down the other's neck and chest, over his hipbone and thigh. "Sherlock, I... I want everything... I want your heart and body," he added, nibbling up to his ear. "Will you let me take you?"

Sherlock whimpered as John's kisses sent jolts of electric through every part of his body, his skin tingling and vibrating at the touch of his lips, his tongue, his teeth, his fingers.

"John..." Sherlock moaned his lover's name over and over. His hands traced their way across John's back and down to the cheeks of his bottom, squeezing it slightly.

"Yes," he gasped. "Take me...do anything you want to me...."

John moaned at Sherlock's words and realized in that moment this was exactly what he had wanted for who knows how long. He groaned slightly as his butt was squeezed, a rush of blood rushing to his crotch, so fast it made him dizzy.

"God, Sherlock," he whispered, watching his hand as it moved down the other's body, the pale skin was fascinating. "You are so beautiful," he whispered, pulling a bit away to take a good look.

"So are you," Sherlock smiled, reaching up his hand to place on John's face, the tips of his fingers running into the other man's soft hair.

He could feel John's erection nudging into his groin area and he pushed his hips up towards him hungrily. "Take me...." he begged. Sherlock placed the palms of his hand either side of John's face and brought him down for a deep tender kiss. "I want you," he whispered.

John kissed him back, his feelings pouring freely into the kiss, he wasn't holding back any more. "Yes," he whispered, his hands moving over his body again, he didn't think he could ever get enough of touching him.

"Turn around for me, Sherlock," he whispered, and he pulled away just for a second, taking a condom and some lube from his bedside table.

Sherlock's heart pounded loudly, a little nervous as he nodded silently and rolled over onto his stomach. He turned his head around, craning over his shoulder to try and see what John was doing.

His erection pressed uncomfortably into the bed and he shifted around slightly, getting up onto his knees, his bottom stuck out into the air.

John couldn't help swallowing hard when Sherlock moved to all fours, his butt becoming easy access and oh so tempting.
John thought he could faint for the ammount of blood that suddenly rushed southwards.

"Jesus, Sherlock," he mumbled, his hand caressing the man's buttocks adoringly, how could they be so perfect?

He shook from his thoughts and pushed himself to go on, do something, and he squeezed some lube so that it fell in the crack, right where he needed it, and then his fingers explored, pushing against his hole and massaging it sensually.

Sherlock craned his neck over his shoulder to try and see what John was doing, but it was quite impossible.

He tried not to be nervous but he really had very little idea over what to expect, other than at some point he imagined John would probably put his penis. Thank God his friend seemed to know a bit more about it.

Sherlock gasped as he felt something cool between the cheeks of his ass, shortly followed by John's fingers massaging him gently. It felt good, a little strange, but really rather nice.

"John that's...uhhh," Sherlock groaned and arched his back, trying to push himself into John's hand. "It's good. Surprisingly."

John's eyes were burning on Sherlock's back, he was determined to check every muscle, ready to pull away if he detected any discomfort or pain. Sherlock seemed to enjoy this though, so he gained a bit of confidence.

"Good," he whispered, his finger circling his entrance and then suddenly pushing in. "We are going slow Sherlock, I'll take care of you," he whispered, showering kisses along his spine as he explored his insides with his finger, eventually thrusting it in and out.

Sherlock shuddered at John's touches, arching his back to try and meet the massaging sensation of his fingers, followed by a short yelp of surprise as he felt one of them slip easily inside him.

It felt strange at first, having this...foreign body probing him. His muscles tensed around John's finger, almost pushing it out again, but he closed his eyes and forced himself to relax. It did feel good, he realised, surprisingly good, especially when he started moving it in and out.

"John," he gasped. "It's...it's...carry on..."

His senses trained on Sherlock, John moved his hand in a slow circling motion, his finger thrusting in and out and his palm massaging the outside.
Eventually, he added another finger and did the same, pushing as deep as he could and trying a few different directions to see if he could brush along his prostate.

He was so concentrated on that task that he forgot about his own erection, just wanting to make this pleasurable for Sherlock, he could only imagine what it would be like to push into his warm tightness.


(You know when my students asked me what 'to probe' means, I couldn't think of an example that wasn't smut-related?)

"Bloody hell," Sherlock moaned in delight, arching his back instinctively towards John's touch, shudders of pleasure shooting down his spine as the other man's fingers worked magic.

His own arousal was painfully hard and he reached a hand down to rub himself gently, trying to ease off some of the tension. "God John...I never realised...what it would be like," he gasped, his mind in a mess. "Don't stop..."

John's hips were moving instinctively in time with his fingers, and he was starting to get desperate as he heard Sherlock's moans.
"God, tell me... tell me you want it..." he breathed out, pushing three fingers in, his other hand moving down Sherlock's spine.

"Damn, Sherlock, I need it so much, you are so bloody hot in this moment... so warm and open... I want to fuck you..." he growled, his hard on rubbing against the side of Sherlock's butt, hard and leaking.

"Oh God...John," Sherlock moaned and writhed around, the insertion of a third finger almost the final straw to send his body and mind into meltdown.

John's words and the way he said them were so incredibly sexy, his body was screaming for more. "I want it," he whined. "God John I want it so much, I want to feel you tearing me open. God...I need it..."

Sherlock could hardly believe it was his own mouth saying those words but as he heard himself speak he realised what an effect John was having on him and it only made him desire it further. Everything he was saying was true.

John's free hand blindly groped around the bed to try and find the condom he had retrieved before, never letting his movements falter.
"Where-?" he groaned in frustration, before his fingers caught the familiar fabric of the plastic package.

He took his hands away then, concentrating on putting on the condom and spreading lube on himself before he positioned behind Sherlock.
"Slowly," he repeated to himself, trying hard to stay in control.

Unsteady fingers grabbed Sherlock's hips, massaged the tender skin while the other hand guided his erection to the pulsing ring of muscles of Sherlock's entrance.
"Tell me if you want me to stop," he breathed out, pushing the tip inside, gasping at the feeling of warm muscles wrapping around it.

Sherlock gasped as John suddenly removed his fingers, his muscles twitching and gaping, just aching to be filled again. "Come on..." he muttered impatiently. "Hurry up...this is an emergency John!"

He bit his lip and hid his head in the pillow. He knew what was coming next and he was a little nervous, expecting it to hurt quite a lot. His fears were mostly unfounded however, and John's expert fingers appeared to have loosened him up quite nicely.

Sherlock felt John pushing in and took a sharp intake of breath, the discomfort from the stretch was considerable and initially quite a shock but not as bad as he'd imagined it would be. He let out his breath slowly and tried to relax.

"It's OK," he mumbled. "Carry on."

Apparently, he had done a good job, because Sherlock's muscles felt warm and sleek as he slid inside further. Half way in, he took in a deep breath and moved back. It was with small slow thrusts that he made his way inside Sherlock's body, and even just that made him positively mad with lust.

"So warm and tight, Sherlock," he whispered once he was completely buried in him, his free hand drawing patterns on the skin of his back.

Sherlock's eyes widened as John continued to push in, his breath catching in his throat as he felt his lover filling him entirely.

"God..." he gasped. "That feels..." The muscles around his entrance were gripping tightly onto John's length, occasionally twitching, clenching on and off, his body tingled. "...feels amazing."

He turned away from the pillow and craned his neck to look back at John over his shoulder, smiling as he saw the look of pleasure in his flatmate's eyes.

The smile on Sherlock's lips in that moment was perfect, John's heart seemed to skip a beat and lust became hunger. "God Sherlock," he whispered, leaning on his back and burying his hand in his hair.

"So bloody beautiful..." he exclaimed, tugging his locks possessively, making him bare his neck as he attached his lips to the side of it. At the same time, he started thrusting regularly, slowly at first, growing faster as the pleasure sparked, he loved just how deep he could go in this position.

Sherlock arched his neck as John grabbed it, happily leaning towards one side and exposing the opposite side to his lover's sweet kisses with a delighted moan.

John's slow steady thrusts sent his mind reeling, tingles darting up and down his spine, and Sherlock found his hands were gripping the bed sheets, his teeth biting the pillow to stop himself from being too loud.