Nights When Boredom Strikes

Bedroom Scenes and Forgotten Things

John reached up and firmly grabbed a handful of Sherlock's shirt at the collar. Sherlock went to remove John's hand but John pulled himself and Sherlock even closer together, quickly, and somewhat unexpectedly, crashing his lips to Sherlock's. Sherlock tried to fight for a second, but then realized he didn't want to fight, he wanted this to happen. John ran the tip of his tongue across Sherlock's bottom lip and Sherlock more than happily granted him entrance. Their tongues danced and their tastes mixed together in a cocktail of breath and skin. To John, Sherlock tasted every bit as good as he smelled, if not better. Sherlock wanted to lose himself in this moment, more than he had already, he wanted John to be sober.

John moved himself a bit clumsily onto his toes so Sherlock could straighten up a little bit and grabbed two fistfuls of Sherlock's curls. A soft moan escaped Sherlock's throat. Whenever someone pulled his hair like that, it drove him crazy. John twisted their bodies to where he had Sherlock pinned against the wall, released one handful of his hair and began to move his hand down. First to Sherlock's shoulder, then to the top button of the shirt that he looked so great in. John began to undo the top button and Sherlock quickly put his hands on John's hips and pulled him away. 

"No, John. I'm not doing this, we're not doing this... Not like this." He managed to get out, panting and gasping for air.

"Why not, Sherlock?" John gave him a pleading, with a splash of baffled, look and leaned in to murmur and barely audibly mumble into his neck, nuzzling. "I've wanted to tell you for a while, but I love you Sherlock Holmes." He looked up at the detective expectantly. Sherlock bit his lip and looked down into John's eyes. Those beautiful eyes that made Sherlock want to melt where he stood. "You know you want this just as much as I do." John continued to tease Sherlock with his words.

"That is beside the point." Sherlock replied. 

"There is no 'beside the point'." John kept on. I can't- Well, I suppose I could, but-... Sherlock's brain went into overdrive, conflicting with itself.


This was why Sherlock hated feelings, they wouldn't let him think, he knew he wanted this, but he also knew that John was extremely under the influence. Somehow, eventually, Sherlock came to the conclusion that the latter was a problem for another day. John leaned in towards Sherlock again, pressing their lips together more gently this time, and Sherlock didn't put up the smallest fight. He did want this. He wanted it so badly that he was going in the complete opposite direction of his better judgement, an action he rarely, if ever, took. 

"Mm-hm." Was all Sherlock could manage to get out before losing his train of thought again. The mixture of John's smell, John's taste, and John pinning him to the wall made thought almost impossible, he loved it, needed it, and despised it all at the same time. Feelings. They were just hateful.

Heat and desire ran through both of their bodies. Granted, John wasn't really thinking straight and quickly losing the veil of control that he usually had when it came to Sherlock, and Sherlock wasn't really thinking straight either, this was what they both really wanted for the longest time and what neither of them had had the guts to admit. John proceeded to unbutton Sherlock's shirt and slide it completely off his shoulders and on to the floor. They started to pull of the wall, while still remaining lip-locked, and making their way over to John's bed. Sherlock was tugging John's jumper over his head, causing them to break the kiss, which they just immediately resumed, and adding it to Sherlock's shirt on the floor.

Sherlock felt himself start to get hard and felt that John was in the same state through his trousers. They fumbled to remove each other's belts, with a little bit of effort, and dropped them to the floor. John moved his fingers to Sherlock's ribcage and moved his fingers along, caressing each of Sherlock's ribs. Sherlock moaned in pleasure, sucking in a deep breath, how did John know exactly how to touch him? They both pulled away slightly and stared into each other's eyes for a second, admiring how they looked in the light to one another and the amount of emotion so easily noticeable, even with clouded thoughts that were unleashing their deepest desires.