The Subscription (Johnlock)

March

John stepped on to the crowded tube, shifting through the people until he found a clear corner to stand, a pole nearby to hold on to when needed.

He felt tired, as it had been a busy day at work, patients keeping the waiting room full. He'd barely had time to gobble down a sandwich for lunch, and grab a cup of tea in the afternoon.

Holding on to the pole, he let his eyes drift shut; the rocking motions of the train making him feel sleepy. He had ridden this line enough times he always seemed to know when it was his stop, jarring himself out of a little snooze.

People moved around with each station, sometimes nudging against him as they passed. He didn't really take notice, letting his mind drift, thinking about what he would make for dinner when he got home. He had a package of mince he needed to use up, so maybe he would make a big batch of pasta sauce.

Someone stepping into the small space behind him roused him slightly from his sleepy musings. The train must really be getting crowded for someone to squeeze in there. He shifted a little, finding a bit more personal space.

But the person moved again, pressing right against him. This was highly unusual. Polite Brits tried to allow for some space between strangers. John's eyes opened, and he looked around for a space he could move to.

He was about to move when hands grabbed his hips, pulling him back even more firmly against someone. "John..."

The husky whisper close to his ear sent a wave of pure lust through him. He relished the hands on him, and rocked back against his body.

Sherlock had been on his mind so often. Incredible sex followed by weeks of waiting for the next month. Then, as soon as the 1st of the new month came, John was hyper aware of his surroundings whenever he was out of his home or work. Sherlock had already tracked him down twice. How much was information from Tom, and how much had he found himself with research? Either way, it was almost March 21st today. Three long, long weeks of waiting for Sherlock to make his appearance. Unable to say to himself that he wasn't extremely attracted to the man. He hadn't spent time pondering what it meant. He just knew he wanted more.

Sherlock gave a low chuckle, his breath sending a tingle of awareness along John's skin. "Already hot for me, aren't you? Good."

It was still rainy and chilly most days, so John was wearing his shooting jacket. It was black, reaching the tops of his thighs. One of Sherlock's hands slipped under the bottom of it, and traced along the fly of his trousers.

Part of John was shocked that Sherlock was touching him like this, and the other part argued that his coat hid everything. They were in their own little corner, and nobody was paying them any attention. Still, it was very exciting, and he pushed against Sherlock's hand, shamelessly asking for more.

His other hand was holding John in place, and he pressed closer. His long black coat must have been open, hiding what he was doing, and allowing John to feel how hard Sherlock was, pressing against his ass. It was the first time he had revealed that he was aroused by their sessions as well, and the knowledge had John rocking back against him. Wanting him as affected as he was.

Squeezing and stroking John, teasing him, while grinding against his ass, while both of them tried to keep their motions from getting noticed, had John close to the edge very quickly. "Sherlock, I'm close...". He whispered, warning the man to stop so they could get off the train, and find somewhere more private to finish this.

But his whisper had Sherlock groaning in his ear, and his motions continued. Pretty soon, John was clamping his lips shut as he came, Sherlock holding him tight. He didn't let go, grinding against John, his breath fast by John's ear. Hearing his breath catch, and his small gasp as he went over the edge.

John was glad his coat was long, hopefully covering the wetness seeping through the fabric of his trousers. He gave a quick glance around, and nobody seemed to be watching them. He was still pretty shocked it had happened like that. So fast and intense.

"Shit. This is my stop. Sherlock, come back to my place to clean up. Stay for a bit." The invitation came effortlessly, just wanting more time with the man than a quick sex session. Wanting, needing, to know more.

Sherlock took a step away, and John turned towards him. His face was a little flushed, his eyes glittering, and John regretted not having watched as he had found his pleasure. He seemed a little surprised at John's request though, and just gave him a little push as the train pulled into his station. "See you-"

"Next month. I get it." John huffed, getting off the train and silently watching as the automatic doors closed and Sherlock was whisked away.

Yes, the sex was good and it was exciting having a sexy stranger show up unannounced. It all appealed to his sense of adventure, something that had been lacking since he returned to England.

But he had never been one to just have casual hookups. Sex was usually saved for women he had dated for a while and gotten to know a little. He knew nothing about Sherlock beyond his name and profession. He wanted more.

...

-A/N: Thanks for reading so far!