Back from the Dead (Sherlock)

The words gave him the energy necessary to pull it through. He tried to mumble something in reply, an encouragement, but his mouth was full of Sherlock, and it ended up being just a tremor in his throat.

His lips grew tighter around him, his fingers fondled him, and he was ready to pull away any second, finishing him off with his hand to watch pleasure dance on his gorgeous features.

Sherlock felt his muscles tighten as the orgasm enveloped him, his eyes opened wide and stared blankly at the ceiling, thinking, seeing, feeling nothing but the intensity brought to him through John's eager touch. As the great release washed over him, he cried out his lover's name not caring how loud he was or who heard him and dug his fingernails into John's back.

John pulled away when Sherlock came, his hand taking over and he watched him with a grin. His lips were swollen and his neck was hurting, but it had been worth it.
Mrs Hudson was probably wondering what was going on with them, he felt rather proud of that, it just made it more real that Sherlock was his. His and no one else's.

He jumped off the bed when Sherlock seemed to recover a bit, gathering a few tissues so he could clean him up, he was soon tucking him back in his trousers.
He was the perfect boyfriend, he decided, when he laid back beside him.

Sherlock lay back on the bed, completely spent, and allowed John to tend to him. It was a nice feeling to get so well looked after, and right now he could hardly look after himself anyway. He felt like he was plastered to the bed, his mind still swimming with bliss, his eyes closed. He became aware of John's body snuggling up next to his. He opened his mouth to say something but it came out like a jumble of words that made no sense. He gave up. His eyelids were heavy and his body so peaceful and contented. Sherlock tried to fight the urge to sleep. He wanted to do the same thing to John, to make him squirm the way he had, but despite willing himself to move, he found himself slowly slipping into slumber. It wasn't long before he was softly snoring.



(( sorry to leave John sexually frustrated but thought they could go to sleep then cut to the next day and continue with the action storyline. Sherlock will reciprocate the favour at a later date. ))

((Ahah, don't worry, John is too tired to even be aroused at the moment XD it was a bloody long day for them!! But Sherlock should definitely feel guilty when he realizes he did it XDD ))

John noticed Sherlock was drifting off, the jumbled words that didn't quite make it past his lips were quite a big hint. "Good night, my love," he whispered, grabbing the duvet and wrapping it around them both.

Now that he was actually lying down, he felt his whole body fall into an exhaustion he could not control.
He needed sleep.
And the next second he was gone.

Sherlock woke slowly...firstly becoming aware of the distant sound of London's rush hour traffic down on Baker Street, secondly becoming aware of a warm presence beside him. He remembered quickly everything that had happened the night before. His return from his thee year absence, being reunited with his best friend, discovering he was in fact in love with his best friend, consumating that love in varied and wonderful mind blowing ways, all whilst dealing with the fact that the second most dangerous man in London was planning to kill them at some point. It was all in a days work for Sherlock Holmes, he thought to himself, grinning as he opened his eyes.

He glanced down at John, sleeping soundly wrapped in his arms, their legs entangled with each other. He looked...beautiful. Not wanting to wake the sleeping beauty, Sherlock slowly and carefully dislodged his various limbs from John's and slipped quietly out of bed, heading to the shower. He got under the hot water and turned his thoughts to the dangerous but exciting day ahead.

John groaned when he felt Sherlock's warmth slid away from him, he sounded disappointed, but he was still asleep.

He stretched on the bed, occupying as much space as his small body could, and fell deeper into slumber, undisturbed by the traffic and the sound of water.

His lips turned into a smile, everything smelled like Sherlock there.

After his shower, Sherlock returned with a towel wrapped round his waits and began to pick out some clothes from the wardrobe. Seeing that John was still asleep he decided he'd better wake him. He moved towards the bed and shook his shoulder gently.

"John..." He whispered. "John...time to get up."

John woke up rather quickly, but he let Sherlock shake him for a while, he liked his soft voice calling his name.

He smiled at some point, suddenly grabbing the detective's arms and dragging him to the bed, rolling them until he was on top of him.

"Mm, good morning?" he whispered, running his hand over Sherlock's pale chest.

Sherlock gasped as he was pulled onto the bed then giggled as John ended up on top, pinning him down.

"Why good morning." he smiled, giving John a small kiss on the lips. "Sleep well?"

John was surprised to realize that yes, he had slept very well. "Heavenly," he said with a grin, leaning down to kiss Sherlock's lips chastely. "Thanks to you I imagine," he muttered, taking a good look at Sherlock's half-naked body, but then pulling away. He knew they had things they needed to do this morning.

"You look especially delicious after a shower," he admitted, blue eyes were dark for a moment, before he looked away and schooled his features.

Sherlock smiled thoughtfully. "I believe this is what they call flirting," he commented. "Correct?" He swiftly ran a hand down John's back and squeezed his bum playfully.

Then he glanced at his watch again with an expression of some disappointment. "Much as I would love to simply lounge around all day in bed doing unspeakable things together that probably haven't even crossed my mind yet...I'm afraid we have a long and hopefully dangerous day ahead of us."

John laughed, shaking his head when Sherlock squeezed his butt: "I believe that's what they call it, yes," he commented and slowly moved off the bed. "You need to get better at it," he teased him, he knew Sherlock wouldn't like to think he was not good at something.

"Do I have time for a shower?" he asked, starting to take off his clothes, he was going to have one, he was not facing the day still smelling of yesterday's tension.

Sherlock frowned. "What do you mean I need to get better at it?" he demanded, folding his arms in a huff. Well, it was an entirely new area to him after all. "You'll have to help me learn it then. And one day I'll be the greatest flirter in London. The world perhaps." he said with a smile, then added, "But I'll only ever flirt with you of course. Obviously."

Sherlock rolled off the bed and pulled his dressing gown on over his shirt and trousers. "Yes you get your shower John. I'll make the tea." He flashed him a smile, then left the bedroom and headed off towards the kitchen.

John couldn't help the chuckle as he moved towards the bathroom, "Yes of course you'll be the best, but power might go to your head and you might start flirting with everyone," he teased him, before disappearing.

Half an hour later he was squeaky clean and dressed, walking into the kitchen in search for his morning fix of tea.

Sherlock glanced up and saw John arriving into the kitchen wearing one of his favourite terrible jumpers. He smirked slightly to himself at the sight of it. He looked...cute. He poured out some tea from the pot and handed a cup to John. He'd also gone to the effort of making him a couple of pieces of toast, which he had set down on the table for him. He indicated the toast with a wave of his hand.

"You might want to eat," he suggested. "Might not get chance later."

John looked at Sherlock surprised as he prepared him tea and showed him the ready toasts. He was starving, but he couldn't believe Sherlock had done that for him! The only time he could remember Sherlock doing something for him was when he had drugged him!

"Wow, I didn't know sleeping with you would make you so helpful! I should have done it sooner!" he teased him, kissing his cheek before he sat down to have his breakfast.
Ah, this is life...

It made Sherlock smile to see John so happy and contented. He stood and watched him eat his toast reflecting on the odd feeling he had from knowing he had done something helpful for John. It was...not unpleasant.

He looked towards the window, curtains still closed but with the light shining through then his eyes fell on the dummy sat upright in the chair. He checked his watch again.

"Where's your gun John? We need it handy."

John patted his hip when he was asked about his gun, he could feel its silhouette against his side. The idea he was finally getting into some sort of action excited him.

The next second he was standing up and stretching. He felt refreshed, something he hadn't felt in at least three years.
"I am all ready... where do we start from?" he asked, looking at the dummy as well.

Sherlock put down his cup of tea and moved into the main living room area to demonstrate their plan. He headed over to the window.

"We open these curtains..." he mimed, without actually opening them, "then we position ourselves over here..." he ran over to the second window. "We open these curtains a little bit, just enough to see through. Then we wait. We can take it in turns or sit together. It's up to you. Moran will send someone down here, some kind of spy. When they see the dummy in the window they'll report back to him and he'll come right over and position himself in the office opposite. As soon as we see any activity going on over the road, we'll head over there ourselves and intercept. Could be dangerous but so far the only plan we've got. Thoughts?"

John followed the explanation, pacing the room to look at the positions and taking in all the possible hazards. He turned around again, almost a pirouette, and then nodded.

"Sounds feasible," he said and stood beside Sherlock. "We might wait for a long time though... it's good they know you spend hours perched on that armchair," he teased him.

Sherlock wrapped his arms around John's waist and pulled him in close. "I can think of some things to help pass the time," he whispered and raised his eyebrows suggestively. "See what I'm doing John? Flirting."

John couldn't possibly take him seriously, he laughed against his shoulder, leaning into the touch. "I see what you are doing, it's less effective if you tell me you are flirting every time you do it," he commented, and kissed the side of his jaw.

"I don't think it's a good idea to get busy if we have to run out whenever it's time... it might be either very frustrating or very embarrassing," he commented, and pulled himself away a bit. "But we could use this time to research on the internet how to... you know..." he motioned in between the two of them. "Since sex seems to be the only thing on your mind these days," he teased him.

Sherlock smiled, knowing John was right, and sensible as always. After breaking away from their hug, he made his way over to the window and peered out, twitching the curtains.

"Hmm. I'd like that. Maybe you could get your laptop. I'll open these curtains then we'll sit over there on the floor underneath the window. I'll keep my eye on the street whilst you read to me. How does that sound?"

John was already on his way to take his laptop from its normal position, moving to the spot Sherlock had mentioned before. "You don't really want me to read sexual instructions aloud, do you?" he asked, amused.

His fingers were moving on the keyboard though, wikipedia felt like a good way to start, his eyes narrowed as he looked at the introduction to anal sex. Then he blushed, because he couldn't help, but picture Sherlock and him doing just that.