In Making a Detective

The time around puberty had been the most awkward for Sherlock. It was the time of a great many changes as well as his own body betraying him. It was one thing to have his voice change and his height shoot up around two feet. It was quite another to have nocturnal problems.

“It’s normal.” Mycroft had told him.

But his brother did not understand that Sherlock wanted no part in what his body was doing. It was a waste of energy. Many times he told himself that he was purely a cerebral creature, not a physical one.

Now that he was grown and there were actual people in his life, things had begun to complicate.

The nocturnal dreams had return. Faceless people writhed and coupled with him in carnal pleasures he had never experienced. As of late more often than not the faceless would resolve into a face he was now familiar with, always at the end. It often made him blush to think of John in such a way, and yet there it was. He couldn’t un-think it, but he did his best to ignore it. But it was a struggle of many restless nights.

Besides John fancied himself to be straight, although Sherlock could tell from lingering glances otherwise. Late night sounds told Sherlock that John wasn’t as repressed with his body as the detective was with his own. The doctor spent many a lonely night with only his hand for company, even though he claimed to be dating a female.

With a sigh Sherlock entered the bathroom where John was taking a shower. Casually he drew back the curtain to watch John rinse his hair. Two men living together over enough time would eventually intrude on one another’s privacy and Sherlock wasn’t the most modest person. Indeed he scoffed at many ideas for social boundaries, especially when it came to his flat mate. What was a computer, a toothbrush or even a pair of underwear between friends?

“John?”

John gave out a small cry of surprise before finishing his rinse and blinking open his eyes. “What? You startled me!” And where was the doctor’s modesty? No movement to cover himself as he had in the beginning of their domestic life when Sherlock looked in on him in the shower. “What do you want?”

Sherlock waved his hand in a gesture of “hurry up” before waiting for John to finish.

The water turned off and John reached out for a towel that Sherlock graciously handed to him. “Why did you have to interrupt my shower? Couldn’t it have waited until I was done?”

“I am waiting for you to be done.” Sherlock replied simply. “I have a favor to ask of you.”

John finished toweling off his hair. “What now?”

“I want to have sex.”

John stopped drying off and froze. “You want to what? With whom?”

“I want sex with you, of course.”

“Why me, of course?” John demanded, wrapping the towel around his waist.

“You are my only real friend.” Sherlock stated. “If not you then who? You would have me beg a stranger? No thank you. I would prefer it to be with someone I’m comfortable with. You. Also I know what you do upstairs at night with your right hand. Wouldn’t it be better with a partner?”

“So you suddenly decide that I’m the one to satisfy your craving?” John retorted valiantly. Crossing his arms over his chest, he stared at Sherlock with a hard look.

“If the idea of being with me sickens you so much…” Sherlock stared at the floor helplessly.

John sighed and rubbed his face. “It’s not that.” Taking a deep breath he reached out and touched Sherlock’s arm amiably. “How far do you want to go?”

Sherlock smiled at John but he was full of confusion. To be honest he hadn’t really thought that far ahead. In his dreams the acts itself were always so vague. “I don’t know. I’ve never done this before.”

John gaped at him. “You’re a… virgin?”

Sherlock winced at John’s look. “Is that a problem?”

“And you want it with… me?”

“Who else could it be? I know you won’t hurt me. We’re friends. You like me.” For a moment Sherlock felt desperate, fearing John’s rejection. “Whatever you want to do with me… please?” Often John responded when a “please” was tagged on to his request. “I want to experience it at least once.”

John took a step forward and reached out to touch Sherlock’s cheek. Quickly he moved in and pressed his lips against the younger man’s lips. Sherlock was surprised and couldn’t respond. Never had he been kissed. But then John’s tongue brushed his lip and he opened his mouth to the invasion. It felt good. A warm giddiness washed over him. His own hands reached for John’s neck, gingerly wrapping his arms there to keep John in place as he explored kissing.

John pulled his lips away. “You must know something, Sherlock… when two men have sex it hurts.”

“I think I’ve heard about that…” Sherlock mumbled, trying to capture John’s lips again. “But I trust you won’t hurt me any more than you have to.” Again he tried to take John’s lips but John pulled away.

“And you must know that I’m an affectionate lover. Kissing, touching, holding… you may think it’s unnecessary but…”

Sherlock rolled his eyes, irritated with the interruptions with excuses. “I’ve already considered that! Just get on with it.”

John stared at him in stony silence, arms crossed over his chest. Sherlock frowned back. His hands returned to where they were around John’s neck, pulling him close and resuming the kissing. His own tongue pushed into John’s mouth, invading him, tasting him. John melted just a bit.

“I want you.” Sherlock breathed.

“We should probably go to your bedroom.” John replied as he reached into the medicine cabinet for Vaseline.

Sherlock led the way, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. His clothes made a trail to his room and he turned around to greet John, naked at the door. His arms caught the doctor and refused to let go, shutting the door with his foot and locking it before guiding them both towards the bed.

“Sherlock…” John managed between Sherlock’s eager kisses. “Can’t we go a little slower?”

“No.” Sherlock replied, pushing John down onto the bed. His hands tugged at the towel, trying to pull it away. With a quick tug it was off and he paused in his kissing to look down at John’s body. John’s face turned a lovely shade of red as Sherlock hesitantly reached down to touch his friend’s penis. It wasn’t nearly as erect as his own but it seemed to respond well to the gentle touch. In silence he ran his fingers over it, feeling it grow hard and hot. “I don’t know what to do.”

John smiled at him, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “You’re doing pretty well so far. Want me to touch you the same way?”

“I’m afraid I’ll finish too soon.” Sherlock replied, his hand shifting to caress John’s hip and belly.

“Here… you may as well try this now.” John lubed up his fingers and sat up, reaching down between Sherlock’s legs. His digits lightly caressed the taint. “I’ll stop when you ask me to. I’ve never done this without examining gloves.” Carefully he slipped a fingertip into Sherlock.

Sherlock gasped in surprise and closed his eyes to steady himself at John’s intrusion. “Keep going…”

John chuckled, resting his cheek against Sherlock’s shoulder. “Who knew my proctology rotation would come in handy for this. Keep breathing.”

Sherlock nodded and forced himself to breath, feeling John’s finger intrude deeper. It wiggled a bit reaching inside for something he wasn’t sure what. And in a moment John found it. Sherlock moaned, body feeling like jelly as he leaned heavily against John for support.

John added a second finger, gently stretching. “If you were to sleep with a man, this is what he would do to you to prepare you for his entering you. Stretch you out so it won’t hurt. How does it feel?”

Sherlock nodded against John’s shoulder. “What are you touching in there?”

“Your prostate. Do you want me to stop?”

“We’re having sex right now?”

“Not exactly… want me to replace my fingers with something else?” John whispered, kissing Sherlock’s ear.

Sherlock nodded silently. He felt himself in a sort of suspended animation waiting for the action to really begin. His body was tingling with excitement but he couldn’t get too carried away. After all this was a sort of experiment. It was a once in a lifetime experience he didn’t want to waste.

John coated his cock with lube and then gently guided Sherlock to sit down upon it. “Take as much time as you need.”

Sherlock pushed down in one movement, feeling himself impaled and full. But he was with John which did wonders to relax his nerves. John was safe… he wanted John, all of John. Leaning forward he kissed as deeply as he could, feeling his companion invade and claim his body. If he could do this… if he could satisfy his friend then maybe John would never wander away and leave him alone. “Fuck me… please…”

John rolled them over and took over the movements. His body arched and thrust, hinting at the wild desires contained within the man. Sherlock could only stare up in awe at the passion John felt in the moment. The doctor’s hands explored and teased. They caressed and Sherlock was having a hard time keeping himself from climaxing too soon. His own hands lightly explored the firm belly of the soldier in his bed, then the shoulder and its wound. John grimaced a bit at that. “Sherlock… shall I… pull out?”

Shocked Sherlock looked up at him. “No. Why?”

John didn’t answer in words. With a couple more thrusts he made a face of pure bliss and Sherlock felt something warm within him. It took him a moment to realize that John had ejaculated.

The very idea sent a delicious tingle down the detective’s spine and he climaxed. His cum was heavy from lack of regular release. Sherlock wrapped his arms around his exhausted friend, pulling him down upon him as his lips kissed everywhere he could reach. “Don’t leave me… John, don’t leave me…”

“I’m not.” John whispered, giving a small kiss as he rolled off and began wiping himself and Sherlock off with his towel. Casually he tossed the towel aside and rested his head against Sherlock’s shoulder. “I’m just cleaning us up. How do you feel?”

Sherlock stared at the ceiling, trying to label his feelings. For the first time in his life the calculating part of his brain that gave focus to every tiny detail was mute. All he could think of was how much he didn’t want the moment to end and for John to abandon him.

“Sherlock, are you alright?” John looked up at him from his shoulder.

Sherlock glanced down at his companion. “I can’t… analyze this.”

John chuckled and closed his eyes. “You’re not supposed to analyze it.”

“My brain is… silent for once. Relative silence for what it usually is doing.”

“Is that a problem?”

“All I can think about is you.”

“Well we just shared a very intimate moment… I should hope you’d give me some thought…”

“John do you have feelings for me?”

‘What? Shouldn’t that be evident from what we just did?”

“No… it isn’t. I told you my analytical part is silent right now.”

“I’d do anything for you.” John whispered, lightly touching Sherlock’s chest.

“But do you… love me?”

“What is this all about, Sherlock?”

“I don’t want to lose you.”

John lay there for a time, silent. Finally he scooted down in the bed, hidden under the blankets.

“Where are you going?” Sherlock asked sitting up a bit to look down at the John sized lump in his bed. In response something warm and soft engulfed his cock. “Shit!” Sherlock gasped, lying back down on the bed. Blood rushed down to the organ and he felt himself harden as John used his tongue to bring back the passion he had felt during sex. Once upon a time Sherlock had taunted Donovan for being in the same position as John. It wasn’t funny.

John’s hands found his scrotum and began to play with the contents. Helplessly Sherlock pushed his hips up against John’s face, urging him take his organ deeper. His body wanted to thrust, to bury itself within John and become a part of him. His fingers reached down and held John’s head as he tried to take control of the movements. Finally it rolled over him and he felt himself expel into John’s mouth.

John didn’t choke. After a moment he licked the detective clean and crawled back up his partner’s body. “You were saying?”

“I forgot what I was talking about.” Sherlock breathed.

John smiled, amused that he had rendered Sherlock speechless. “I love you Sherlock.”

Sherlock closed his eyes. The words unexpectedly brought tears to his eyes. It was the first time hearing such an utterance from anyone. A life alone as if waiting for that special someone Mycroft had promised would appear. The lost, strange little boy had been found. Sherlock wrapped his arms around John and held him close. He was found. Sherlock was at peace.