Work Text:
Case. Hurry home. SH
Can't it wait? I'm at work.
First 7 in two weeks. I'll be late home. Order Chinese. SH
Don't go without me. You know what happened last time!
Oh, come on John, that was different! I knew the gun wasn't loaded. SH
And what if you had been wrong? What then?
The man wouldn't have shot me anyway. Couldn't do it. Not our killer. SH
Oh come on, you couldn't possibly know that! Even if he hadn't been our killer, he still could've shot you! He had a gun, for christs sake.
No he wouldn't have. His hand shook. He was sweating. He didn't have it in him. You saw that. SH
Whatever. I can't come home yet, I still have 3 more patients to see. I have to go.
Wait a second, what makes you think I'll listen to you? SH
John? SH
Fine. If you're not going to reply I'll go without you. SH
Lestrade is waiting for you. SH
Did you call Lestrade and tell him not to let me onto the crime scene? SH
Anderson is being idiotic, hurry up so I can leave. SH
Sorry, I was with my patients. Calm down. Lestrade will let you in when I get there.
And just how long will that be? I can't wait forever. SH
I've just got in a cab. I'm on my way. Be about 15.
Fine. SH
10 minutes. SH
5. SH
You're a minute late. What's taking you so long? SH
John? SH
When John got Sherlock's last text, he was just getting out of the taxi. He was only 3 minutes late, could the man just calm down?
As he walked towards the crime scene he kept an eye out for his consulting detective. When he finally saw him, he saw that Sherlock was in a confrontation with the terrible duo.
As if on cue, Sherlock looked round and saw John. He strode over, looking slightly annoyed but more than that, relieved. John knew this was just for his benefit, and Sherlock quickly put on a blank expression.
"Come on, John, things to do, cases to solve."
Three days later, they had just chased their suspect down an alley, ending in a short fight between John and the suspect. Needless to say, the suspect was quickly disarmed and discouraged.
After a quick run-in with Lestrade and a promise to go to NSY the next day, the pair headed back to the flat. As they were sat in the back of the cab, neither of them could look at eachother, so John calmed himself down by looking out of the window.
When they got back to the flat, John gave the driver enough money and pulled Sherlock inside. They ran up the stairs, not bothering to be quiet as they knew that Mrs Hudson was away for the week.
Slamming the door, John pushed Sherlock against it and kissed him hard until he could barely breathe, the kiss all tongues and teeth. It quickly became too much, and as Sherlock pulled back to breathe, John tore his coat off, starting on his shirt.
Once Sherlock got some of his breath back, he joined in, taking off John's jacket and once his own shirt was off, he lifted John's over his head. Once they were both naked from the waist up, they were kissing again, John winning the battle for control and dominating his mouth, leading their kiss.
John undid his trousers and pushed them down, grinding his ever-growing erection again Sherlock's. Soon even this was too little friction, and he broke off the kiss, dropping to his knees.
He mouthed Sherlock's cock through his trousers, feeling it getting impossibly hard under his mouth. By the time he pulled back, Sherlock was griping the walls to stay upright and there was a large wet patch where John's mouth had been.
John quickly but efficiently removed Sherlock's trousers and boxers, throwing them across the room to join the rest of their clothes.
Once this was done, John gripped Sherlock's hips with both hands to keep him steady, and took him in his mouth as far as he could on the first try. Sherlock moaned loudly above him and John felt a hand holding his head.
John knew what was going to happen, seemingly before even Sherlock did, and just gripped his hips even harder and sucked even more. Pretty soon Sherlock was shaking and moaning, he was even trying to buck his hips but John's strong hands were stopping him from doing so.
Then, when John's jaw was starting to ache, he heard Sherlock's familiar "John, John I'm gunna, I'm gunna" and tongued the head of Sherlock's cock, wrapping his mouth firmly around it.
The next second Sherlock was coming silently, and John just swallowed it down. When Sherlock was all finished, John pulled off with a pop and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Slowly, he stood up, having gotten extremely hard during this time which was making it difficult to move. Sherlock was leaning against the wall, obviously using everything he had not to just collapse onto the floor.
John grabbed the younger mans hand. "Come on, think you can make it to the bedroom?"
He looked at Sherlock's face as he grinned. "Can you?"
John just groaned and pulled him into their bedroom. It had once been Sherlock's, but once they had gotten together, they decided it would be easier to share a bedroom and for Sherlock to have the other room for experiments. It even had it's own fridge so that nothing was left in the kitchen one.
John pushed a now-awake Sherlock onto the bed, crawling on top of him. He leaned down, pulling Sherlock's bottom lip into his mouth, before moving away. He kissed at his neck, sucking a love bite onto it. As he was doing this, he ground his prick into Sherlock's hips, realising his boxers were still on.
Sherlock grabbed him by his waist, and before he could do anything about it Sherlock had flipped their positions and thrown John's boxers away from them.
He reached down and started to slowly stroke John's member, taking care not to give John too much friction. When John started whimpering though, Sherlock pulled back and let go.
John started bucking, being driven near-insane at the sudden loss of friction. Sherlock soothed him by slowly stroking his inner-thighs, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. Once John had calmed down a bit, Sherlock reached over him and rummaged around in their drawers, before finding what he wanted and moving back.
John closed his eyes, unable to watch Sherlock, when he heard the familiar *click* of the bottle of lube they had stored in the draws for times like this. It wasn't the best, but it was certainly helpful in times like these.
After two more minutes of nothing, only laboured breathing, he decided that actually, yes, he'd like to see what Sherlock was doing. He cracked an eye open in order to watch. What he saw was that Sherlock was already two fingers stretched, and was coated with lube.
John scrambled to help, squeezing some lube onto three of his fingers and warming it up. He quickly pushed Sherlock's hand out of the way, and gently eased one of his fingers into Sherlock's tight hole.
Realising that, for once, Sherlock hadn't rushed the preparation, he put a second finger inside him. Pretty soon he had Sherlock keening above him while he scissored his fingers and moved them around.
When he finally added a third finger, he quickly found Sherlock's prostate. Upon finding this, Sherlock whimpered loudly and pushed back against John's fingers.
John pressed against the bundle of nerves a few more times before deciding enough was enough and he pulled his fingers out. He grinned when he heard Sherlock's answering groan, obviously frustrated at the lack of anything inside him. He was already hard again, which was no surprise; he had a quicker recovery rate than anyone John had ever been with before, which just added to his appeal.
John quickly tore open the condom packet, slipping it on, and positioned Sherlock over him. He led him down in one firm, practised movement, pausing when he was fully buried within him, giving him time to adjust.
Once Sherlock was positively squirming above him, he started to move in slow, shallow thrusts. Sherlock was now lying over him, his elbows restricting John's movements and his body stopping John from his full range of motion.
Although, when John considered it, he didn't really need his full range of motion anyway.
They quickly set a rhythm, starting off slow and building up quickly, until John was bucking up harshly and Sherlock was almost bouncing on top of him. John could feel himself getting close, so he reached down and grabbed Sherlock's prick, wanting them to come together.
He pulled on his prick harshly, while his hips started to stutter. It only took three quick strokes and one well-aimed thrust and Sherlock was coming again, all over John's chest and his stomach with a cry of "John!"
Suddenly, the tightness and the sight of Sherlock utterly debauched on top of him sent John over the edge, pulling Sherlock down on him firmly, riding out the aftershocks together whilst murmuring eachothers names.
As John finally gathered his wits about him, he rolled them over so they were laying side-by-side, pulling out. Sherlock whimpered lightly, feeling empty. John rushed to the bathroom to get a warm flannel and cleaned them up, and throwing away the used condom.
When he got back to the bedroom, he put away the lube in the drawer and got something else out instead. He handed it over to Sherlock.
"You forgot to use this, so we had to start over. I don't want to have to go through all of that again in the morning."
"Oh, yes, I must've taken it out mid-case. You know how I get. Sorry."
"It's okay if you don't want to use it," John said, "But you seemed pretty eager to use it before…"
"Now, John, don't be an idiot. Of course I do. But could you…" Sherlock gestured with the toy.
John quickly caught on, kissing Sherlock softly on the lips before pulling away and taking the toy back. He slid down the bed, carefully pressing it into Sherlock's open, quivering hole. Once it was positioned properly, he made his way back up the bed.
"Sorry, I know you don't like having to deal with preparing me everytime. I was just so caught up in the case…"
John kissed him again, hoping to portray his feelings, but put them into words just to be sure he was understood properly.
"It's fine love, you're forgiven. Now, get some sleep so you have enough energy for what I've got planned tomorrow."
Sherlock grinned at him and cuddled closer, tracing circles on John's chest. "Do we have to wait until the morning?" He whispered cheekily.
John chucked, putting his arms around his Sherlock. "Yes, we do. Now, as I said, go to sleep soldier." John commanded, knowing his Captains voice sent shivers down Sherlock's spine.
"Of course sir. Goodnight." Sherlock closed his eyes, starting to drift off already.
John ran his hands through Sherlock's hair. "Goodnight love."