Johnlock

Sherlock brushed his fingers lightly against John's cheek gently, barely even touching him. John growled in frustration, tired of all the teasing. He wanted -no, he needed his flatmate so much it wasn't funny. "What's wrong John?" Sherlock's voice was so deep, almost a purr, and John knew he was being deliberating seductive. "You. Know. Damn. Well. What's. Wrong. Sherlock." The ex-army doctor was having trouble putting his words together with that sexy, high-cheekboned face so close to his. "Spell it out for me," Sherlock placed one hand under John's arm and slowly moved it down to his blogger's hip, just touching his inner thigh, then going back up again to his shoulder. He knew that drove John crazy. The shorter man gave a tiny whimper, currently unable to form words. Sherlock smirked. He was amazed by how much he could affect his blogger, and loved it.

"Come on John. Tell me." 

Ohh, that voice. John couldn't ignore anything that voice said. "Sh-Sh-Sherlock. Stop t-touching me and I'll t-t-tell you."

"I thought you liked it?" Sherlock pouted as he pulled his hand away.

"I do. But it distracts me. A lot."

Sherlock expression changed to a smirk again, pleased that he could distract John so much with just a simple action. Then he persisted with what he had been saying: "Tell me, John."

"Tell you what?"

Sherlock gave a small growl and John smiled, understanding. "Sherlock." he stated. "John." replied the consulting detective. John stepped back and his eyes flicked up and down, "You look so god darn hot, like always, Sherlock."

"And....?"  Sherlock asked.

 "I need you so bad right now." John whispered, adressing the floor. Sherlock backed up and spread his arms wide in a very Sherlockian gesture, as if he was asking for a hug. But what he said made it clear he had something much less innocent in mind: "Come and take me, then."

John didn't say anything at first. He just strided forward and grabbed his flatmate by the scarf, pulling him down for a rough, passionate kiss. When he pulled back for a second it was to gasp, "With pleasure." To him the sight of Sherlock with ruffled up hair and lips slightly swollen, standing there with an expression of hunger and lust on his face was just so gorgeous he wanted to bend him over the nearest available surface. But he contained himself, instead pulling the consulting detective behind him as he went to Sherlock's room.

John pushed the door closed behind him as they entered the room, pushing his flatmate down onto the bed. For a moment he stood there, admiring the sight. On the way to the bedroom they had stopped to kiss a few times, and as a result Sherlock was no longer wearing his coat, his scarf was in John's hand, and he looked so good. John had lost his jumper, but was still wearing a button-up shirt. 

"I know I look good, but when are you going to stop staring?" Sherlock's deep voice cut through the ex-army doctor's daydreaming. He looked embarrassed for a second, then walked over to Sherlock's bed, grinning. The consulting detective pulled himself into a sitting position, looking quite cat-like. He lowered his head and stared John right in the eyes. It was the sort of stare a panther would give it's prey right before it pounced. It was the stare that made John very arroused, which he was now painfully aware of.

"Sherlock..." he murmered.

"What?" Sherlock asked.

"Nothing." John smiled "I just like saying your name, Sherlock."

"I'll have you screaming it soon." 

As he had been talking John walked right up to his flatmate, who was perched on the end of the bed. He paused as he realised what the consulting detective was implying, then put his hands on the taller man's shoulders, leaning down so their noses were almost touching, Sherlock still giving John that penatrating stare. John stared back, he could get lost for hours in those magnificent eyes. They were just so mesmerising....

"John..."

John opened his mouth to reply, but Sherlock rolled him over so he was lying flat on his back. The consulting detective held himself up by placing his hands on the bed either side of his blogger's head, and his knees either side of his blogger's waist, with his toes hooked round John's ankles so John couldn't move his legs. Sherlock did that in under four seconds, and was panting slightly, though mainly from arrousal, as he leaned down to kiss the adorable ex-army doctor. 

"You think I'm adorable?" John whispered when their lips were mere centimetres apart. Sherlock felt himself blush, realising he must have spoken his thoughts. Then he kissed his blogger's chin gently, slowly kissing his way along the shorter man's jaw, up to his cheek, then whispered in his ear, "Yes. You're my adorable doctor."

John's stomach did a little flip when Sherlock called John his. Then he lifted his head off the pillow and kissed Sherlock softly, reaching one hand up to wrap around the younger man's neck. Sherlock hummed with satisfaction, propping himself up on his elbows as he slowly undid the buttons on John's shirt, one at a time.

He was calm for a moment, then growled impatiantly and pulled John's shirt off rather violently, breaking their kiss. Then he hummed in pleasure again, leaning down to place feather-light kisses across John's chest, gently gripping his muscular shoulders.

"Not fair....yours too" murmered John, then before his flatmate could reply he wiggled his feet really fast, catching Sherlock off gaurd and breaking free of his ankle grip. Then he pulled the consulting detective's shirt off and flipped him onto his back, pinning him there by the wrists. Sherlock raised an eyebrow at this, then his expression changed fast as lightning as John leaned down and kissed him deeply, taking his hands off the taller man's wrists to tangle them in his thick black curls.

Sherlock let out a slight moan as his hair was tugged, moving his own hands to mess up John's short brown-blond hair, before moving them down to roam across his back. John smiled at the contact and moved his lips to Sherlock's neck, encouraged by his flatmate's sounds of delight. Then he moved his mouth further down, nipping at Sherlock's collarbone. The consulting detective gave a little needy moan at this, and ran his hands down John's torso, setting to work on his belt buckle. After quite a struggle Sherlock got John's jeans off, and had a soft, adoring smile on his face.

Then his expression changed to one of desire and he crashed his lips to the ex-army doctor's, who kissed him hungrily back, they rolled back and forth on the bed, John somehow managing to get Sherlock's trousers off without breaking their passionate kiss. The air was filled with moans and groans and a flurry of arms and hands and lips for what seemed like hours, but was really only a few minutes. Then Sherlock broke away and began to kiss his way down John's stomach, finally arriving at the waistband of his flatmate's pants. There he paused for a second, head tilted to one side, considering how he would go about this.

{Author's note: In an attempt to preserve my innocence (What? haha! you've read too many smutty fanfics to be innocent! Shut up you! Writing one is different from reading one.) Anyways, in an attempt to preserve what innocence I have left, I'll let your imagination finish this off. Also, if you know me in real life don't mention this fanfic. That means you Saffron! *shakes fist* No telling everbody I know about the sort of writing I do sometimes!}