John swore as he struggled to pull on the ridiculous high heeled boots Sherlock had asked him to wear. Once the task was accomplished John stared at his reflection in the mirror. The top half of his body was military attire, uniform and all. The bottom half consisted of a pleather pair of tight shorts with the British flag plastered across the front and a pair of black knee high boots.
John laughed and then looked down. "Jesus, what I won't do for you, Sherlock," he thought.
John made his way into the main sitting room. Sherlock stood at the window with his hands clasped behind his back. He was wearing his long blue robe, fish net stockings and a black pair of stiletto pumps.
"Sherlock, are you ready to play?" John asked as he clunked over to where Sherlock stood. No answer. "Sherlock?" John asked again. "Sherlock, are you alright?" John asked in concern.
Sherlock turned a tear streaked face towards John. "Yes, I'm sorry John you look marvelous but please just go to bed."
John's shorts squeaked as he walked over and took Sherlock in his arms. "Sherlock, talk to me."
Mascara ran Sherlock's cheeks and his bottom lip trembled as he whispered, "John, I'm not cut out for all this."
John took Sherlock's hand in his own. "Come on Sherlock follow me."
Like a child Sherlock took John's hand. When they got to the bedroom John ordered Sherlock to sit down on the edge of the bed. A few moments later he returned with a jar of cold cream in his hands. With a gentle thrust John pushed a wash cloth into the cream and then began to remove Sherlock's makeup. When he was finished John took Sherlock into his arms, marveling at how fragile Sherlock was. "Now, tell me what's wrong."
Sherlock undid his robe to reveal a black corset. "John, I don't want to bore you in the bedroom. I just...just don't know what I'm doing."
John put his fingers underneath Sherlock's chin. "That is the most intelligent thing I've ever heard you say. Sherlock, you could never bore me. If you were to look at me with that intense look of yours, I would come in my pants without you even touching me."
Sherlock searched John's face and then pounced. With one frantic motion he threw off his robe and then sighed in exasperation. "John, help me get this stupid corset off."
John calmed Sherlock with one touch as he slowly untied the corset, letting it slip to the floor like a corn husk. With a gentle hip thrust John moved Sherlock on his back and then smiled as he slipped Sherlock's heels off. John then kissed Sherlock's thighs as he removed the fish net stockings. Sherlock lay like a limp naked sacrificial virgin in John's arms. John then kissed Sherlock until they both had to part to get their breath.
Sherlock then became the leader as he rubbed his hand over John's slick, shiny shorts, chuckling at John's discomfort. "John, why I do believe that the flag on your shorts is no longer flying at half-mast."
Sherlock had the upper hand as he divested John of his clothing. Then he smiled as John's body trembled with need. "I love you, Sherlock," John whispered. And with those four words the balance of power shifted as Sherlock fought to reconcile his intellect and his emotions. In frustration he reached over and pulled open the drawer of his nightstand.
John's eyes bulged with disbelief as Sherlock pulled out the dreaded red leather Moroccan case and a rubber tie. Ignoring John, Sherlock opened the case and stared with a hungry fascination at the syringe inside.
"Sherlock, what are you doing?" John snapped out in a tone laced with fear and anger.
"John, you're a Doctor. You could give me a dose, just enough to relax me." Sherlock said aloud as he handed John the case.
John slapped the case out of Sherlock's hand. "I'm not having sex with you if you have to get high just to let me touch you. I'm not having sex with you while you're high."
Sherlock fingered the case for a moment and then looked over at John with a gaze that appeared to be lit by fires within. "John, you could give me enough. You could give me too much."
John was about to leave when he noticed Sherlock's body fighting for control. With careful precision John reached out and touched the soft part of Sherlock's pelvic area just below his hip bone. "And you could just as easily poison me."
Sherlock bit his lower lip as he arched into John's touch. "Yes, we could both watch each other die by each other's hand."
John smiled as he massaged Sherlock's lower back. "So, this talk of poisoning each other is foreplay talk for you?"
Sherlock moved John's hand down and towards his center. "Apparently so."
John took Sherlock in his arms. "Sherlock, we are together in this you aren't alone."
Sherlock traced John's jaw with his finger. "I can't begin to imagine what that's like."
John laughed as he tussled with Sherlock. "So, how do you think Danny and Alex are getting on?"
Sherlock tensed. "I'm pretty sure that Alex, if that's his real name is going to lose his virginity tonight."
Across town...
Alex stared at the door, wishing he hadn't shaken hands with Danny, wishing that he hadn't said, 'That things were moving too fast.' The cold bit into his face as he stood rooted to the spot. What would happen if he stood there forever? Would Danny come for him, or would everyone pass him by?
As if reading his mind Alex looked up and saw Danny watching him. For a moment he thought Danny was a mirage and then Danny smiled. Alex swallowed and then smiled back, for tonight was the first night of his life. The night where he would no longer be alone. The night where he and Danny would exchange a piece of their souls. A night where a kiss would last a lifetime. "I can't begin to imagine what that's like," Alex thought as he let Danny lead him upstairs.
