Back from the Dead (Sherlock)

((I think it would be better if I did xD))
((But that's just my opinion.))
((Dammit *hits self for being stupid*))

((Lol, don't worry, just carry on...or you can edit it if you like, whichever I don't mind))

((will just continue to have John corrupting Sherlock's mind in the meantime.))

John laughed a bit: "You are special in all kinds of way, aren't you?" He joked, burying his head in the other's neck.
"I'll show how it's done," he muttered confidently, at least this he knew he could do.

He slowly kissed the other's neck, lips taking in a bit of skin and he started sucking it, while his hands traveled south, caressing the fabric of Sherlock's trousers over his crotch.
"Just think about me and what I am doing..."

Sherlock was pleased that John was taking the lead. He wasn't confident in his own abilities just yet, and still felt a little inadequate and insecure. He had already learnt something new this evening - that his neck was extremely sensitive, and when John kissed it...first of all it tickled, then it was like an electric shock starting at his neck and shooting right down his spine. It made him a wriggle a little, and he kept his right hand round John's waist and his left gently carressing his chest...

As John's hand began to move down his chest it didn't take much to deduce what was going to happen next. He felt a sudden twitching in his pants, and a tension building up in his chest. He let out a small whimper.

John grinned when he noticed the bruise he had created on Sherlock's neck, feeling him wriggle under him made him feel oddly powerful.
He licked the red skin soothingly and his fingers started undoing Sherlock's trousers.

"You trust me, yes?" he asked once they were open, wondering if it was really okay for him to go on, fingertips were dancing on the skin just above Sherlock's pants line.

Sherlock gasped slightly as John's nimble fingers unbuttoned his trousers. He turned to lie flat on his back, enabling easier access. His heart was beating fast...anticipating what was to come...

"Yes, I trust you." he whispered.

"Good," he said and slid his hand into Sherlock's pants.
It felt odd to touch someone else's cock, but at the same time, it was familiar, he knew what to expect, he felt the blood running to harden the flesh as he gripped it loosely.

And he knew what to do, very well actually.
He kept it simple, and after stroking the smooth flesh for a while, he started pumping on it. He was watching Sherlock, worried he might do something wrong.

As John's hand slipped inside his boxers, Sherlock drew a sharp intake of breath. He felt his whole body tense temporarily and he couldn't help but give a small squeal. He felt the blood rushing, a throbbing between his legs. He was harder and more turned on than he'd ever been in his life. Why had he never done this before? he wondered. Dear God...it felt amazing...

He clamped his eyes shut and one hand gently scraped John's back with his fingernails whilst the other hand gripped the duvet. He writhed and moaned under John's patient strokes, lifting his hips upwards towards him.

"Christ John..." he muttered. "This is incredible."

John thought this was going to be easy, but he had to admit that watching Sherlock writhe and moan in pleasure was arousing him beyond belief. He was more than beautiful, he was gorgeous, especially feeling just for him, because he was touching him.

He swallowed hard, resting his forehead on Sherlock's shoulder, his hand moving faster and faster by the second.

Sherlock could feel the sensations rippling through him, the source of the pleasure coming from John's expert hands and eminating throughout the rest of his body...up through his stomach and into his chest, down his legs right to the tips of his toes...his whole being felt alive and excited.

He gripped John tight, bringing him closer, then he opened his mouth and clamped his teeth into John's shoulder to suppress a moan from escaping his lips. He felt like he might explode at any minute.

John moaned at the bite, his brain was fuzzy, but he concentrated on the task at hand. He kept moving, placing wet kisses up Sherlock's neck and meeting his thrusts with his hand.

"Come on, baby... come for me..." he whispered, squeezing just that bit tighter.

For the first time in years Sherlock's mind was blank. All he could think about was the intense pleasure John was giving him and as it built to a climax he buried his head into John's chest, moaning his name over and over again until finally he couldn't help himself any longer. He half screamed half shouted and felt he'd reached the peak of his pleasure followed by an incredible sense of release and relief, sensations radiating from the numbness in his toes to the tip of his head like an electrical charge. He realised he'd just had an orgasm. His first.

He looked down at himself and saw his deductions were indeed correct, John's hand now resting in the sticky mess he had helped to produce. His grib around John's shoulders relaxed, and he allowed his arms to flop heavy onto the bed. His eyes half closed still taking in and digesting the pleasure.

"Dear God John," he mumbled, panting and breathless. "What the fuck was that?"

((aw, cute innocent Sherlock *hugs him*))

John thought no one will ever make him forget just how beautiful Sherlock looked as he came, he was thoughtless, he was pure feelings, something that never happened to the self-declared sociopath.

"You came. Climaxed. It was an orgasm," he explained slowly, kissing the other's face lovingly. "Was it good?" He knew the answer already, but he wondered if Sherlock would admit it.

He moved to get a few tissues off the bedside table and cleaned him up.

"Yes." he said simply. It was bloody fantastic. "Except I think I may be paralysed. I can't move." It was true. Sherlock's arms and legs felt like they were sinking into the bed. His vision was still hazy, his heart still beating wildly, the amazing waves of orgasm still rippling through him. Wow. So that was what it was all about.

With great effort he managed to roll himself onto his side to face John and absent mindedly ran his fingers along the doctor's chest. He smiled. "I think I've been missing out. It was a lot better than I'd predicted." And then he added thoughtfully. "Although...I really don't think I'd want anyone else to do it except you. That would just be...odd."

John laughed a bit: "You're not paralyzed, just very well-relaxed... it's what it does, it's also normal to feel tired after it... you should just sleep it off..." he suggested, laying by his side again, cupping the hand on his chest with his own.

"I sure hope so! You are my boyfriend now. No one should touch you at all. Just me," he said with a glare, just the idea Sherlock would think someone else should touch him annoyed him beyond belief.

Sherlock frowned. Was John displaying signs of jealousy? The idea amused him...although he did like the idea of John being protective over him.

"Is that what we are now?" he whispered. "Boyfriends? Bit of a childish word don't you think?"

He released one of his hands from John's grasp and carefully ran it down his back till he reached the top of his pants. "And no...I don't want to go to sleep....I want to do the same thing to you. I'm quite certain I've memorised the technique." He began to fumble with John's button.

"It might be childish, but it means that you are mine," he said, and felt a shiver run up his spine as Sherlock's hand moved lower. "Do you prefer lover? Partner? Husband?" he teased, even though his tone was shaking a bit. He had no idea he wanted Sherlock to touch him so much.

"I would... like that..." he admitted, looking down to see Sherlock fingers on his trousers.

"As long as you're mine like you say you are I really don't care what you call me."

Using his other hand he gently rolled John over onto his back, then got to his knees and shuffled down the bed a little, so he could now use both hands to focus on removing John's pants. He undid his buttons and zip, bending down to provide a little kiss at the bottom of his stomach, near his belly button. He began to wonder if he'd be any good at this...and hesitated for a second. Just copy what John did.

Sherlock took a deep breath and pulled down the pants. He'd never seen another man's cock before. He got the urge to measure and inspect it but he knew John wouldn't appreciate it if he started getting all scientific at the moment. He made a mental note to investigate it further at a later stage, then he reached out his long bony fingers and carefully wrapped them around John's length. He held it there a moment, feeling it throbbing and hard in his hand. He felt his heart rate increasing, he felt quite excited again...then he shuffled back up the bed so he could lie down close to John and cuddle up. He kissed him gently on the neck, then slowly began to move his hand up and down....

"Is this...OK?" he asked.

"Good," he said hesitantly, watching the other's movements closely, his throat was closing up, dry. He wanted this so much, and he'd never thought he'd be this turned on by a man moving along his body.

He hissed when he felt the other's fingers wrap around his arousal, it throbbed in pleasure. He tilted his head back, stifling a moan. "Yes, it's good. It's perfect," he said, shaking a bit. "Faster please..."

Sherlock never realised it could be so thrilling to bring pleasure to someone else...but seeing John moaning and rolling his head back, all because of something /he/ was doing...well...if he was being honest, he kind of enjoyed the sense of power it gave him...and he didn't need any encouragement to carry on.

He nuzzled his head into John's neck, gently biting at the skin...then picked up the pace, pumping and twisting his hand round his lover's huge erection. He loved the reaction it was getting...maybe he could be good at this...

John's thoughts were a jumble of feelings by then, he could not say or do anything other than enjoy. It was heaven, to know that Sherlock was touching him, and what he was doing with those long pale fingers. God.

"I'm close," he whimpered, feeling his climax pooling in his belly, he didn't want this to end at all, but he also wanted the release. "Sherlock," he whimpered, shaking slightly before he came.

John's noises of ecstacy only served to encourage Sherlock to pump him harder. He was really enjoying bringing pleasure to this man...it surprised him how much fun it was....He planted his lips on John's in a sloppy kiss as he brought him closer and closer to the edge.

John kissed Sherlock passionately as he came, his breathing shaky, his whole body trembling as he experienced the heavenly high.

"God," he whimpered as he pulled away, his eyes gleamy, his breathing raspy. He rested back on the bed, a dumb smile on his face.
He reckoned that for the first time together, they did a pretty nice job.

Sherlock felt John's tongue clashing with his, followed by the warm sticky feel of ejaculate all over his hand. As John pulled back he watched him intently...making note of the contented expression on his face....Sherlock had never really found anyone attractive before, but there was something unique about John. John was different. John was beautiful. He couldn't help but smile.

"Was it OK?" he asked.

John laughed a bit, it had been a long time since he had sounded so happy. "It was wonderful, Sherlock," he said, and leaned in for a soft kiss. "I love you," he whispered, feeling warm all over.

When he woke up that morning, he would have never thought he'd be this happy by the end of the day.
It wasn't just about getting Sherlock back, it was about a whole new world starting just for them.