It Could be You

Chapter 11

Warning: Sexy smut ahead.

John was no stranger to sex. After all, Sherlock thought, he'd had quite a few opportunities to practice and perfect his techniques. After John finished unbuttoning Sherlock's shirt, he gently kissed him from collarbone to the waistband of his trousers. Then, he slipped the silk shirt off his shoulders and laid Sherlock out like sacrifice with arms spread wide.

John straddled him with Sherlock's long, lean body between his knees. "What do you like?" he asked softly.

"I liked the kissing," Sherlock said tilting his chin up hoping John might resume.

"Did you?" John said brushing his lips across Sherlock's cheekbones, eyes and the tip of his upturned chin. "I hoped you say that. Because I've wanted to take you in my arms and snog you senseless for quite some time now. Years actually."

At John's words, Sherlock wrapped both arms around John and pulled him down to lie on his chest. He tilted up his head and kissed John's lips. John nestled on top willingly. Sherlock could tell he was smiling broadly, but he kept at it until the doctor's mouth softened and opened up. They kissed and kissed trying new positions on the bed to see if they could get closer to one another. Sherlock heard a thunk as John's shoes hit the floor near his bed, and he toed off his own. Sherlock felt as if he flew above the city on wings of happiness. His best friend, his John, wanted him! John ran his hands along his sides and stroked over Sherlock's nipples sending delicious tingles all through him.

"Take this off," Sherlock said tugging on John's jumper and shirt.

"Yes sir," John said with a huff and a smirk. He disengaged himself from Sherlock's arms, got back up onto his knees and pulled his jumper over his head. Then, he unbuttoned his shirt slowly, teasingly until Sherlock wanted to reach up and rip it off of him. John slid one arm out and then the other all while making eye contact with him. It was the hottest thing Sherlock had ever seen. How could he have ever fancied John's pale imitation in Carter?

John's self-confidence radiated from him as he finished his impromptu stripping. Bare chested, John stopped a moment to let Sherlock look at him. John's skin, still golden from the desert sun, stretched over well-defined arms. His middle, while a bit softer, still made Sherlock want to reach up and run his hands all over him.

Sherlock sat up and pulled John back in for another long kiss. When their bare chests brushed against each other, Sherlock let out a sigh of bliss. Holding John next to him like this brought deep contentment. But, the more John kissed him, the more he wanted to take things further.

It seemed John must have sensed Sherlock's eagerness to move forward, so he slid his hand down to cover over the bulge in Sherlock's trousers. It felt incredible, so he closed his eyes to capture every detail while he moaned into John's mouth.

"Do you like this?" John whispered in Sherlock's ear.

"Oh yes," Sherlock said and placed his own hand to cover John's. Together, they moved up and down his shaft until the friction built up into delicious waves that kept him dancing on the edge of ecstasy. "God, John, I need more," he said breathing heavier with each stroke.

"Hmmm, Let's get these off then," he said and undid Sherlock's belt and flies. John tucked his thumbs into the waistband of Sherlock's trousers and pants. With one deft motion, he slid both garments off and tossed them toward the foot of the bed. The remainder of John's clothes soon followed suit. Now, they lie naked, limbs entangled, freely stroking each other's arms, chests and cocks stopping only to kiss languidly.

This might be the best night of Sherlock's life, he thought. Everything I've ever wanted I have in John Watson, best friend, companion, partner and now-lover all combined into one person. His ideal man.

"I've got to admit, I've wished for this, Sherlock," John said. "I've wanted to know what you'd look like with my hand wrapped around your cock, making you come for me." As he spoke these words, he reached into Sherlock's bedside drawer and pulled out a packet of lube and a condom.

"How did you know I had those there?" Sherlock asked for once incredulous as to how someone arrived at a deduction about himself.

"Let's just say I'd hoped your newfound interest in a handsome, young, blonde man might lead you in this direction. Turns out I was right."

The mention of the color of Carter's locks derailed Sherlock's interest for a second as he thought about that detail of his former boyfriend's life.

"John," Sherlock began. "I want you to know we never got that far. In fact, we'd just begun kissing when the alarm."

"Shhhhh. Nothing kills the mood quite like bringing up an ex-flame," John said tearing open the package of lube.

"Ex-flame is correct. You are my only flame, John," Sherlock said watching with avid interest as John unrolled the condom and placed it over his hardening cock. Then, he lubed up both hands and began touching, and caressing him until all he could do was lie back and let the waves of pleasure wash over him. John surged forward and kissed him while never missing a stroke. He drew out Sherlock's tongue and sucked in time with each downward stroke. The concurrent rhythms heightened everything and Sherlock knew he couldn't last much longer.

"John, I'm going to," he said shuddering with the intensity of holding his orgasm back.

John stopped then and held the bottom of his cock tight. A moment later the orgasm retreated, and he let out a muffled moan. Then, John moved down his chest and belly again until he stopped midway down. Sherlock felt warm heat surround his cock and felt John reach around to grab one ass cheek in each hand to pull him forward. Ah, John had him in his mouth and oh God, he'd never felt anything so pleasurable in his life.

Pleasure exploded into Sherlock's brain with each measured pull of John's tongue. The sensations began feather light, then as John sucked in his cheeks, Sherlock felt his orgasm grow until it exploded in a white hot flash of light behind his eyes. John kept him in his mouth until the final shudders retreated then carefully rolled down the condom and tossed it in the waste bin. He retrieved a flannel from the washroom and gently wiped away the sticky lube from his skin. Then, he curled up next to Sherlock, who was still riding the waves of post-coital bliss.

Sherlock wrapped one arm around John's shoulders and kissed the top of his head three or four times. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," he said feeling a single tear slide down the outside corner of his right eye.

"You are so welcome," John said.

"Can I do that for you?" Sherlock asked trying to shake himself from his endorphin high.

"No love, I'm happy enough just like this," John said and nestled his head onto Sherlock's shoulder and closed his eyes.

Love. John had called him love.