Back from the Dead (Sherlock)

Having opened the main curtains fully, Sherlock came to sit by John on the floor by the other window. He made a slight gap in the curtains, just a few inches so they could see through, and positioned himself carefully, so his eyes could be trained on the building across the road.

He took a brief glance at John's laptop and saw a rather rude picture. Smiling, he turned back towards the window. "Yes I would like you to read it to me John. Very much so. Or at least give me a summary of the main points so I can commit them to memory."

John thought there was no way in hell he could summarize this, it was successfully scarring him for life. "Very well," he muttered, wondering if Sherlock would get scared and refuse to do this. He sighed, and started reading:

Anal sex (also called anal intercourse) is the sex act in which the penis is inserted into the anus of a sexual partner. The term can also include other sexual acts involving the anus, including pegging, anilingus, fingering, and object insertion.
Anal sex is commonly associated with male homosexuality, but research shows that not all gay males engage in anal sex.
Many people find anal sex pleasurable, and some may reach orgasm—through stimulation of the prostate in men, and clitoral and G-Spot leg stimulation in women. However, many people find it painful as well, sometimes extremely so, which may be psychosomatic in some cases.

He looked up at Sherlock, wondering what he was thinking. Was it the case, or was he actually listening?

He skipped to the male to male section, blushing a bit as he read on:

Historically, anal sex has been commonly associated with male homosexuality. However, many men who have sex with men do not engage in anal sex. Among men who have anal sex with other men, the insertive partner is called the top and the one being penetrated is called the bottom. Those who enjoy either role are referred to as versatile. Gay men who prefer anal sex may view it as "[their] version of intercourse" and as "the natural apex of sex, a wonderful expression of intimacy, and a great source of pleasure". Psychologist Walt Odets said, "I think that anal sex has for gay men the same emotional significance that vaginal sex has for heterosexuals

"Mm, it doesn't really explain how to do it though," he muttered thoughtful.


((This is actually taken from wikipedia XDD I am so random, I know >< ))

(( haha, thought you might do something like that. like it. ))


Sherlock stared out of the window. His blank facial expression probably made it seem like he wasn't listening, but in fact he was absorbing every word that John uttered; then processing it, sorting it and storing it in a special section of his Mind Palace he had recently created dedicated to information about sex. Just because the area was new to him, it didn't mean he couldn't master it, he reasoned. Occasionally a small smirk passed across his lips as he heard the embarrassment and nervousness in John's voice.

"It does explain how to do it. You just haven't been paying attention," he replied. "First sentence, paragraph one - 'sex act in which the penis is inserted into the anus of a sexual partner.' I'd say that was fairly obvious."

John blushed furiously at Sherlock's unexpected remark, he didn't really think the detective was paying attention at all. "I knew that even before reading this," he protested, and scrolled down the page. "I would like to know a bit more in details, like brand of condoms, lubricant, or if there is any other precautions one should be careful about," he muttered, and then looked up at him.

"Do you think you want to be... mm... top or bottom?" he asked curiously, he really wanted to know what was going on in Sherlock's head.

Sherlock smiled as he listened to John fussing about the details, although to be honest, the specifics hadn't really even crossed his mind.

"Yes of course," he muttered, almost to himself. "Condoms. Well I'm sure you've got plenty of those John. Plenty of unused ones going off the number of successful dates you've had since I've known you." Sherlock smirked to himself. He wondered whether it was still acceptable to mercilessly tease John now they were lovers. He hoped so. It was one of his more enjoyable past times.

Sherlock reflected a while on the intricacies of being top or bottom. He tried to think logically and calmly but he couldn't help feeling a little nervous. He noticed the palms of his hands were a little clammy. They were really going to do this. The thought both exilerhated and scared him.

"I think I shall have to try both." he finally said. Then, "what about you?"

John looked at Sherlock with a mock offended expression on his face: "And whose fault was that? Mister I-call-John-every-time-he-is-about-to-get-off-with-a-woman?" he protested, and looked at the screen intently. "I will have you know I had no problems getting laid when you were gone, in fact I was about to get married last year," he reminded him.

His first instinct was to say top, it'd be easy, it'd be hardly different from what he was used to, but then he remembered Sherlock was a virgin, and he really didn't want to scare him off sex by having him experience clumsy anal sex with a rookie.
"I guess bottom," he muttered then, his instinct to protect Sherlock was always the strongest. "I think it makes sense I should be bottom."

"Hmm, thank God you didn't get married..." Sherlock said. "I would have had to split you up of course. You know I would have called you several times a day simply begging you to come back."

Sherlock was still looking out of the window. Suddenly his eye was caught by something out on the street, he leaned forward for a better view. Someone had stopped on the other side of the road and was looking up to their flat. They remained standing there a moment, then moved on. Sherlock sat back again.

"Bottom it is then," he replied, although in truth he'd only half listened. The sudden implications of John's words began to hit home and he frowned slightly, turning his head to look at him. "Except...except I haven't got a clue what I'm doing John. You have."

"Ah! So you admit that you were trying to meddle with my relationships!" he exclaimed, he couldn't believe Sherlock's guts. "Besides, marriage is a serious thing, I sure hope you would never do that," he said, shaking his head, then suddenly he was looking at him. "Begging me to come back?" he realized then, he didn't even think about it, Sherlock in Baker Street without him just didn't seem right.

John laughed a bit at Sherlock's delayed reaction, one could tell he hadn't been paying attention. "Exactly for that reason I should be bottom... I don't want to hurt you, Sherlock..." he shrugged. "And all you have to do is just stick it inside me, I am rather sure you can't mess that up," he said with a reassuring grin.

"I didn't want to share you with anyone John," Sherlock admitted. "Regardless of whether our relationship was platonic or otherwise you are mine and you always have been. I refuse to let anyone else spend time with you."

He glanced at John, looking his body up and down. A mental image briefly flashed in front of his mind. Sticking it inside. He frowned. "I think I can manage it. Although...I wouldn't want to hurt /you/ John."

John's cheeks burned a bright red when he took in Sherlock's words, he had no idea the detective could be so possessive. "Oh, mm, really?" he whispered, his eyes a bit sheepish. "Has it always been like that?" he asked, his heart beating faster in his chest.

The blush seemed to worsen when he caught Sherlock looking him up and down. "Well, a bit of pain never killed any one... besides, we have the internet, I am sure there is somewhere where they explain the best way to do this in details and you will be able to memorize it," he teased him, poking Sherlock's belly just for good measure.

"It's always been like that," Sherlock confirmed. "It was only yesterday that I..." he trailed off, suddenly self conscious of exposing his feelings too much. He gave a short nervous cough and looked at a speck of dust on the ground. "...that I realised..." he cleared his throat. "...what that was." The tightness round his chest disappeared as he finally managed to get the words out. He figured he must have always loved John, but just never known it before. It was strange really. He'd never thought it was possible for him to love anyone. Never thought he'd want to. But now....he was happy with John, he realised.

Sherlock wriggled at John's playful touch and pointed at the laptop. "You just find me the relevant information and I'll learn it for both of us. And then I can learn to be....good at it."

John closed his eyes for a second, a soft warm feeling was spreading in his chest, he had no idea Sherlock could make him feel this way. In that moment he felt like he was no ordinary person at all. He was special. He was with Sherlock Holmes.

He leaned closer to Sherlock's shoulder, placing a kiss on his neck. "I am glad you realized that," he whispered, and he really meant it. "It would have been a lonely life for the both of us if we kept being apart or even if we were just friends..."

John nodded then, going on his researches, trying to avoid pornographic sites. "Mm, a video could be good though," he muttered at some point and found an instructional porno. "Here, Sherlock," he said, and pulled the detective back to look.


((Imagine a very explicit video that explains the use of lube for preparation and the best techniques XDD ))

Sherlock shivered at the touch of John's lips on his neck, fascinated by the way this man could make him feel so utterly helpless but contented. He had to resist turning his head to embrace him in a passionate kiss. Focus, he told himself. Focus.

Sherlock glanced across at the website John had brought up and decided it was worth a look.
"OK, swap seats."
He stood up so John could shift across and sit nearer the window, then sat down again in John's place, taking the laptop off him.
"Keep your eyes on the street opposite," he said, and hit play on the video.

His eyes widened as he began to watch, and he could feel his heart pounding faster. "Bloody hell," he whispered, as the action unfolded in front of his eyes. He felt the blood rushing to his cheeks with embarrassment and yet he couldn't take his eyes off the damned screen.

John nodded, sliding to the other side so he could keep an eye where Sherlock had pointed. He had to admit it wasn't that easy to concentrate, not with his head full of sex.

He knew he had to behave if he didn't want to anger Sherlock. This was important, and as much as it didn't feel like it yet, their lives were at stake.

He focused his eyes on the street and spoke only when he heard Sherlock's exclamation. "That bad?" He asked curiously.

As he watched the graphic images on the computer screen, Sherlock concentrated, taking it all in, committing it to memory. He was trying to be logical about it, to view the information from a detached view point...but the more he watched, the more he could feel his body responding to what he was seeing. He shifted slightly in his seat, there was a stirring inside his pants and a tense feeling building up in his chest. He licked his dry lips and looked away from the screen. Calm down. Focus. But he couldn't. Finally he snapped down the lid of the laptop, leapt up and ran into the kitchen. He grabbed a glass, filled it with water from the tap and drank it all down in one go, breathing heavily.

John jumped when Sherlock closed the laptop and ran to the kitchen, he quickly settled back in the right position and looked outside. No one was there.
So what had made Sherlock snap?

Could it be?

He looked at the figure in the kitchen worriedly.

"Sherlock... what's wrong?" he asked aggravated, licking his dry lips. "If it scares you, we don't have to do it," he pointed out simply, it surely would be the easy way out for the both of them.

"No no, it's not the actual act that scares me," Sherlock dismissed as he paced the kitchen. Then he stopped and stood in the doorway, looking over at John. "It's the fact that I want to do it so bloody much that scares me."

He blushed and looked away. "I can't...control myself. I've never been like that before. I've always been in control of my emotions, but now..." He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. "That's what scares me John."

John's heart went wild, beating in his ears, propelled by Sherlock words, he found himself standing up, avoiding the window and walking closer to the detective's tense figure.

"You shouldn't be scared," he muttered, his blue eyes were intent on the other's face. "Because if you want me, you'll have me as much as you want," he whispered, and cupped Sherlock's cheeks.

"To want something you can have... it means you can be happy, it means you can be happy with me, so it shouldn't scare you..." he leaned up to kiss his lips. "It's part of being human, and it will just make you feel complete eventually... just don't let it worry you..."

Sherlock was about to tell John to stay by the window. He opened his mouth but no words came out. He just stood there, frozen, taking in the words. He allowed himself to be kissed gently on the lips. Sherlock felt his body responding, his arms reaching for John and pulling him closer, his mouth opening a little wider to reciprocate the kiss. His heart thumped wildly as they broke away.

He coughed. "Window," he managed to choke, before walking stiffly back to the window and sitting down cross legged on the floor and focusing his eyes outside. He took a few deep breaths trying to calm himself then patted the floor next to him with his hand, a signal for John to come and sit with him again. The desire to be close to him all the time was suffocating.

John felt rather smug when he pulled back from the kiss, it was rather clear Sherlock was affected by the new nature of their relationship, and he was affected by him, he liked that, he loved it actually. Who would have thought, he would have imagined Sherlock not to change one bit, as stubborn as he was.
He liked this new version even more though.
It made him feel... accepted.

"Yes, sorry," he muttered, moving to sit down next to him, his hand casually settling on the detective's thigh as they watched the street outside.

Sherlock felt the warmth radiating through his leg from John's hand. He took his own hand and placed it on top of John's, squeezing it slightly. They sat like that together for at least twenty minutes without moving or saying a single word. Sherlock felt contented just to be in John's company. He didn't need to speak. His mind was elsewhere. He knew if he thought about John he would become distracted and clouded by the intensity of his own emotions, and he didn't need that right now. He forced himself to think of something else and began mentally planning out his next chemical experiment.

Suddenly, something caught his eye down on the street. He nudged John.
"John...look..."
There was a man standing on the opposite side of the street outside the office block. It was the same man Sherlock had seen earlier looking up at their flat...although now he was looking up at the flat whilst on the phone, staring intently at the window where the dummy could be seen.

John was enjoying the peace before the storm, he knew any moment now they would have to run, but for the time being, he was just concentrating on the warmth of Sherlock's hand on his.
After all he still couldn't wrap his head around all that had happened.
It wasn't just Sherlock coming back, it was also their impromptu love story.
Could they really manage this?
If he looked at him now, in the dimly lit corner, John knew he'd do anything to make this work, because he didn't want to imagine his life without Sherlock again. And also, this new feeling of need, the one Sherlock was so scared about, it was also in his heart and body, he wanted to explore that, he wanted everything that was Sherlock Holmes.

He blinked when Sherlock's voice brought him back to reality, he looked outside, noticing the man.
"Is that Moran?" he asked, wondering if Sherlock knew how the man looked like at all.

Sherlock shook his head. "I don't think so," he replied. "But this is just how I expected it. He'll be on the phone to Moran right now, reporting back, letting him know we're in and we can expect our friendly sniper to be making his way over here shortly."

He turned to look at John and gave him a warm smile. "Now might be a good time for a cup of tea."

John was concentrating on the movement outside, he was memorizing the man's face, just in case they needed it with the police later on.
He looked at Sherlock annoyed when the request came.
"You want tea now?" he asked, and then laughed a bit. "And of course I should make it, shouldn't I?"

He looked at him for a moment. "What will you give me in exchange?" he asked, now that he could be flirty, he would definitely use it.

"Yes of course now. We won't get time later." Sherlock answered simply, his attention now back outside and watching the man on the phone get in a taxi and disappear up Baker Street.

He smirked, turning to John again, realising he was flirting. He was starting to get better at recognising the signs - the change in tone, the hint of a smile, the hidden meaning behind every day words and sentences. It would make quite a fascinating study. He made a mental note to consider writing a report on the art of flirting, although obviously he would need to do a great deal of research first. Sherlock pondered John's question, then answered slowly.

"Well...I fell asleep last night after you...after you did that...thing to me...so it's only fair that I should at some point in the near future...do the same to you."