Sherlock
John was rushing down the stairs behind me and out the door with me so that I wouldn't leave him and get a cab without him. I was feeling rather blissful after the previous events. John was... well, he's bloody fantastic in every way. That's the truth. And now, although this was a somewhat foreign concept to me, we were, I suppose 'dating'. Although he did make a point to say that there isn't any pressure on me to be extremely committed or serious, and although I respect him saying that, I would like to prove that I do at least somewhat care about him. Because I do. And I don't care about people often, and maybe that's why I like John so much, because he's broken my rules and torn down my walls. He's my exception. So I was going to try my best, although he already has fair warning after meeting me, just how bloody narcissistic and cold and rude and detached and unaware and apathetic I am. I chuckled. He knows what he's getting into. And yet here we are. I looked beside me to see John Watson calling down a cab. I looked down to see he also still had a semi-boner. I tried to hide that I was laughing but I guess it didn't work. John looked at me and glared.
"You think it's funny? That we're going out for dinner and I'm bloody hard because you, Sherlock Holmes, are a major tease." John said, eyes narrowed and arms now crossed. I smiled a sarcastically innocent smile. A cab pulled up and we got in. I gave the driver an address to a restaurant. It wasn't anything too fancy but it was a nice, slightly run-down Italian place. After all, this isn't necessarily a date, we just wanted dinner. Unless this is a date. I glanced at John just to find that he was staring right at me. He gave me a smile and a nod.
"I have a proposal." I said. He raised his eyebrows.
"I hope you're not going to propose marriage, Sherlock, that may be a bit too soon." John said, laughing. That was a humorous thought but it somewhat irked me that he was acting as if he could ever deny me.
"Oh please, John, we both know you'd accept in a heartbeat. But no, that isn't it." I said. John blushed and looked away. Ah, so he really would say yes if I were to pop the big question. Of course, I wasn't planning on asking, but still I suppose that's good to know.
"I was wondering if you wanted this to be a date. I assume I pay for dinner, I give you a kiss in public, and then we go home and have sex. That sounds like a proper date, right? Is that the sort of thing that one does on a date?" I asked, thinking thoughtfully about it.
"That sounds nice. Yes, this could be a date. Good thinking." John said quietly. I scoffed.
"Of course it's good thinking, it's mine." I said cockily. A few seconds passed.
"I mean, thanks, John." I said slowly, rolling my eyes. He smirked and relaxed into the seat.
A few minutes later we arrived, got out of the cab, and entered the restaurant. I looked down at John.
"Good to see that your boner has gone down." I said so that only he could hear it. He blushed and adjusted his stance as the waitress came up to us and led us to a seat. It was a small booth. John sat across from me.
"Would you like to place your orders now or do you need more time?" She asked, smiling. In fact, she was smiling a bit too much. At John. I snorted. As if she thinks she's going to be flirting with him at all tonight.
"Yes, I'll take the penne rosa. Also, how's your yeast infection going?" I asked, with a fake smile. Her own smile faltered and she tilted her head at me, blushing like mad. She stammered.
"Y-yes, and for you?" She asked, directing her attention away from my remark and towards John instead. John kicked me under the table. For 'being rude' I suppose.
"I'll take the spaghetti and meatballs, thank you." He said, giving her a smile and handing her his menu. She took it and very obviously dropped it. I rolled my eyes. She bent down and looked up at John, likely trying to get him to see her cleavage. John's eyes were glued onto the table in front of him. Good boy.
"Sorry, he's not interested." I said, handing her my menu as well. She clenched her jaw and looked at John who just had a miserably fake smile on his lips. She pouted.
"Do you always let your friends speak for you?" She asked to John. John opened his mouth but then looked at me and closed it again. He thought for a second.
"No I don't let my friends speak for me. My boyfriend, however, yes." John said quietly, turning and giving her a small nod. She ruffled her eyebrows and then just quickly walked off.
My eyebrow was cocked when John looked back to me.
"Boyfriend?"
"Well.. I was trying to prove a point."
I narrowed my eyes slightly and nodded.
"You didn't have to be so rude to her, you know." John said, looking away from me.
"I believe I did. After all, she was indeed flirting with my boyfriend."
John's eyes snapped up to mine. A smile cracked on his lips.
"Yes I suppose she was." He said, intertwining his hands and politely sitting up.
"Still, though, she seemed nice."
I huffed. Why couldn't he drop it?
"Yeah, right. You could tell from her right arm that she is both an obsessive compulsive and a hopeless poetry lover who possesses no real writing talent of her own." I said. John shook his head like I just didn't get it.
"Poetry is nice. It's... you know, it's sweet." John said, giving me a challenging stare.
"Sweet?" I asked, with a glint of jealousy in my eye. John nodded.
"Yes, Sherlock, sweet. Unlike humiliating a kind waitress who did practically nothing wrong." John said. I was speechless.
"Why are you defending her?"
"I'm not defending her, I'm just saying-"
"You like her."
"No, she just seemed like a nice-"
"You're attracted to her."
John groaned and rolled his eyes.
"Come on, Sherlock,-"
"You want to have sex with her?"
John stopped and stared at me. He bit the insides of his lips. He looked fed up.
"Sure. So what if I do?" He asked, temper seemingly coming out of nowhere. I made harsh eye contact and was silent for a few moments, trying to decide how to react.
"Bathroom." I said, standing up. John mumbled something under his breath in exasperation and looked down at his hands, as if he were expecting me to walk off.
"I said, bathroom. Get up." I repeated. he looked up at me in surprise.
"You want me to come with you?" He asked skeptically. I rolled my eyes at him and started walking towards the bathroom. He would follow. After a few seconds I heard him getting up and quickly coming over to follow me into the bathroom. After we both entered, I shoved him into a stall and locked the door behind us.
"Sherlock, why are you so mad-" John was cut off by my lips on his. I let my jealousy slowly start to seep out by grabbing John and kissing him hard. He pulled away.
"You want to have sex with her, huh? Some random waitress? You think she's sweet. You like her. You don't even know her and you're just attracted to some random waitress." I rambled, unbuttoning my trousers. John looked at me like I'd gone mad.
"Well, come on, John, get your trousers off." I said. He gulped and did as I said. I then started on undoing my shirt. I didn't have to tell him to, this time he started taking his shirt off on his own. I tossed mine onto the floor and the second that John's was off, I pinned him up against the wall. My hand made its way to his happy trail and I slowly traced my fingers down. John was under my grip, helplessly pinned against the wall. I kissed him again. My tongue swirled about in his mouth and I roughly bit his lip. I pulled away to see John panting. His eyes were wide and his lips parted. I started sucking on his neck. Not as low as I'd done earlier today. I wanted these hickeys to show above the collar of his jumpers. I wanted every slutty waitress to see these. I sucked hard on his neck, and soon enough, little moans were leaving his lips. I started to rub his dick through his boxers. John bit his lip to keep from groaning.
"Whose are you?" I asked. John didn't answer. I slipped my hand into his boxers and started to rub my thumb over his slit. He moaned.
"Whose are you?" John took a deep shaky breath and my hand started going up and down on his member.
"John. Whose are you?" I asked for a final time, the hand I wasn't using to jack him off, going around him to his ass. His head fell back as my finger found his entrance.
"I'm yours." John barely mumbled under his breath. It was almost inaudible. I kept going, one hand pumping his dick, the other at his ass, a finger moving in and out.
"Say that again?" I asked, my voice low and gravely. John sighed into the pleasure. I lightly nibbled on his ear lobe and whispered into his ear.
"I asked you to say that again."
John flipped himself around so that he was facing the wall and his bare ass was exposed to me.
"I'm yours." He whispered. I slipped off my boxers.
"I don't think I caught that." I said, smirking. I pressed myself up against him and took my hard dick to his entrance. I teased him, only letting the end of my tip enter. I moved my dick around his asshole, only barely letting it go inside.
"I still don't think I caught what you said there, John. Whose exactly are you?" I asked, my lips close to his ear. John backed up into me, getting just a little past my tip to enter. It felt great.
"Please, Sherlock." John whimpered, trying to get more of me inside of him.
"Answer. The. Question." I said slowly and sternly. John looked back at me.
"I'm yours." John said.
"And who else can have you?" I asked.
"No one else." John whispered.
"So what you're saying is..."
"That waitress out there never had a chance and never will, because I belong solely to the one and only Sherlock Holmes." John said. I smirked.
"That is unless he takes any longer to fuck me, because I'm getting pretty restless over here. I might have to leave him for a slutty w-"
I didn't let him finish, sliding my dick into his tight ass. John grunted and grabbed tightly onto the top of the stall.
"Be careful what you wish for." I whispered before slowly starting to move in and out of him. John moaned. I kissed his neck from behind, leaving more hickeys. I wanted him marked. My slender hands travelled around his waist to his throbbing cock. As I slowly moved in and out of him, I flicked my wrist over his dick. I saw him wincing and biting his lip.
"Say my name, John." I said, unsure of how I got my voice to remain so steady.
"Sherlock." He whispered. I smirked. I kept my pace slow, teasing him.
"Faster." He said, his head pressed against the stall. I raised an eyebrow and stared at him.
"You sure about that?" I asked, only allowing myself to speed up just a little bit. John nodded roughly.
"Fuck me harder." He muttered. I shrugged. He asked for it. I pulled out almost completely and then, with all the strength in my body, shoved myself as deep into him as I could go. He cried out. I had to grit my teeth from the pleasure. I did it again, still jerking John off. I could see tears in his eyes. I was just hoping he was getting what he wanted. I pushed him harder against the wall and fucked him ruthlessly. His eyes were shut tight and he was moaning obscenities.
"Say.. my.. name." I said between hard thrusts. John yelled out as I found his prostate.
"Sherlock!" He cried, his whole body moving with my thrusts. Hearing him yell my name like that made my whole body hot.
"Again." I groaned breathlessly into his ear.
"Sh-sherlock!" John moaned in pleasure. I felt my pace quickening. I was slamming right into his prostate still.
"Again, John!" I muttered, my voice rising with urgency.
"SHERLO-Ohhh" John screamed as he came. His ass tightened around my dick and I could feel myself losing control.
"Oh, Sherlock, fuck," John whimpered as I fucked him hard through his orgasm. His moans and his tight ass clenched around my dick made me come undone. I quickly pulled out and came onto his back. I fell against the opposite wall as I enjoyed the blissful feeling. John had already finished and was using toilet paper to clean himself off. I was panting and grinning down at John.
"That's.. the third time.. I've made you cum today." I said breathlessly. John looked up at me and laughed.
"You should be proud of yourself. I've never gotten off with any of those girls I'd go on dates with." John said as he took a piece of toilet paper and wiped me down too. I smiled.
"When aren't I proud of myself?" I said with a chuckle. John laughed too and the moment was perfect. Post-orgasm banter with John Watson was now my favourite feeling in the world. It didn't even occur to me that we were likely in the world's filthiest bathroom stall, with cum on the floor and wall, and that the food we ordered was probably sitting out at our table, getting cold. It didn't matter. I couldn't have cared less. I just wanted to stay right there forever, leant up against the stall with John looking at me and chuckling, with that wholesome look in his eye that he always gets when I make him laugh.
