John blinked. Then exhaled shakily. His eyes were wide with lust, pupils dilated completely as he watched his lover blow smoke into the air. Sherlock lay on the double bed (which both of them had mutually agreed was a lot softer than most hotel beds they'd stayed in in the past) and had the slender fingers of his left hand twirled into his tousled black curls; the fingers of his right holding onto a half-finished cigarette. John couldn't deny that the man before him was anything but extraordinary. His intelligence was a thing of it's own - anyone with eyes could see that. His tattoos were another. John had seen each one countless times, but he could never quite prevent the sharp intake of breath that left his body each time Sherlock had stripped himself of his clothing. They were...remarkable. John himself had his own share of ink - but he supposed one could never truly appreciate their own tattoos as well as someone else's. Like the way some people believe an item of clothing only looks good on someone else. Sherlock's tattoos matched his personality perfectly. Matched him. Just like he would say John matched him. He could feel himself getting harder the longer he held the man's intense and predatory gaze.
"Come on then, Captain," he purred, his fingers still deep within his own hair.
John didn't need to be told twice. He all but dived onto the bed and immediately lay a hand upon his lover's thigh - gently stroking where a huge grey skull was inked into the pale skin, surrounded by orange flowers and large bees flying out of it's eye sockets. Sherlock moaned, spreading his legs wider and dropping the cigarette into the ashtray on the beside cabinet without taking his eyes from John. He brought a hand up to place into John's half-shaven blonde hair and held onto the headboard with the other. John proceeded to kiss the thigh he'd been stroking, making sure not to miss a single section of the tattoo engraved there with his mouth. He felt Sherlock's fingers tighten in his uneven hair as his lips came to the huge deer antler inked into his right hipbone. John licked and nipped, making the taller man groan beneath him. After doing the same with the matching antler on the other side, Sherlock placed both of his hands on John's shoulders - which were littered with barbed wires and a large colourful Lily which was one of his first ever tattoos, as tribute to his mother who had the same name. As John kissed his way up Sherlock's torso, the man brought his hands around his back and dragged his fingernails firmly down the skin. He could almost feel the tattoos of memorable quotes from his parents pulse as they were scratched. Felt the slight sting as his newest one - a large brain with a clockwork centre with the words "You keep me right." was pierced slightly by Sherlock's nails. Sherlock continued to moan as John's kisses reached the engraved pink heart right at the centre of his chest - where his own name was inked right beside it. There was a reason behind that particular tattoo, like each and every one covering both their coloured bodies, but John was too delirious with lust to even try to remember. He nuzzled and nipped his way up to Sherlock's collarbone - his hands stroking the many black and yellow hives ascending Sherlock's arms and shoulders as he went. The man's lips soon made contact with the skin of his own face, feeling shivers running down his spine as the man sucked a pierced ear into his mouth.
"Sherlock....not gonna last much longer," he just about mumbled into the small tattooed hedgehog on the side of his lover's neck. The words were barely out of his mouth before he felt slender fingers wrap around his member and begin to firmly stroke, causing his breath to hitch. He continued to suck into Sherlock's neck, licking the long line of planets and stars that started there and travelled down his back like a snake. "I love you," he whispered into his ear. Sherlock gasped and his hand sped up as he kissed the side of John's face. "I love you too."
John sucked harder at Sherlock's collarbone and arched his back as he felt himself getting closer. His own fingers dug into the other man's ribs, which were covered in quotes from John's blog, and then eventually he cried out loudly - pleasure pulsing through every particle, every cell. His orgasm came in waves, making him unaware of exactly which part of Sherlock's body he was grasping, of which tattoo was beneath his fingertips. It felt like hours before his breathing slowed. He'd landed in a heap atop his lover and could feel his release coating the mattress between Sherlock's legs. The man was nuzzling into the shaved side of his head, showering him with small but intimate pecks. John shifted so that he lay beside Sherlock rather than on top of him, promising him to return the favour once his breath had returned. He brought his hand up and began to trace the heart on Sherlock's chest - finally remembering that it was supposed to signify himself in one way or another. The man began to stroke John's knuckle with his fingers, entwining them on his chest and bringing John's hand to his lips to kiss. He gazed in wonder at the letters written on each individual finger - them spelling out SHER to go alongside those written on the fingers of his other hand, which inevitably spelled out LOCK. John watched his lover's face, almost being able to see his brain working like the inked clockwork which spilled across his own back. There were so many parts of Sherlock that had been placed on John's body in the form of ink. But the real art would always be right in front of him rather than a colourful drawing on his body. He hoped, as he lay there snuggling into Sherlock's yellow and black shoulder, that the love of his life would understand exactly how much he meant to John just as he knew how much he meant to Sherlock. If each other's body art was not enough to go by then John was certain their actions and emotions always toward each other would be huge indication.
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Just a short fic that took me half an hour. Please review 😉
