Sherlock Holmes & The Knights Templar

Chapter 2

Sherlock sat on the edge of the bed watching John pack. There was something hypnotic about the way John moved that never ceased to fascinate Sherlock. John, feeling Sherlock’s gaze turned around.

“Sherlock, why are you staring? Sherlock, what’s wrong?” John’s voice had a hard edge to it. It was the kind of hardness that loved ones of persons with addictive personalities used when faced with the possibility that something terrible was going to happen again.

Sherlock observed the tone of John’s voice and kept silent. He wanted to tell John that every move he made was a source of excitement. John could be bringing in groceries, taking out the trash, or just sitting around in his robe and Sherlock found each movement that John made was as thrilling as any steps a dancer performed.  Instead of voicing any of the thoughts that he was thinking, Sherlock pushed himself off the bed and started to leave the room.

John stopped packing and moved towards Sherlock. “Sherlock, you can tell me what is it?”

Sherlock wanted to tell John that he didn’t want him to go on the assignment in Prague. He wanted to tell John that his chest felt heavy every time he contemplated John’s being in danger. He wanted to …he wanted to…. Sherlock turned to leave the room, but John’s steely grip on his arm held Sherlock in place.

“Sherlock, you need to tell me what’s going on. I’m not clairvoyant you know.”

Sherlock smiled. “John, I am rubbing off on you. When I first met you would never have used the word clairvoyant to describe your inability to penetrate the human mind. You most likely would have said something like; I’m not a mind reader you know.”

John let go of Sherlock’s arm. “Oh, for God’s sake I have no idea what you are trying to say, however I’m fairly certain it has nothing to do with my vocabulary, or lack thereof.”

Sherlock moved closer to John and everything that he was going to say just simply vanished away, so Sherlock just leaned forward and pulled John into an embrace. When his lips met John’s, it was as if a bolt of electricity shot through his entire body. Sherlock, frantically reached for John’s shirt, as he ripped it open, buttons flew everywhere.

“Sherlock that was a brand new shirt.” John exclaimed. Sherlock, didn’t answer as he ran his hands over John’s bare chest. John gasped. “Sherlock, I don’t care about the bloody shirt.” John then began to return Sherlock’s kisses. John had always loved kissing; however, with Sherlock it was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Sherlock’s tongue explored every square inch of John’s mouth, only stopping once in a while to catch his breath. Sherlock unbuckled John’s pants and with one downward motion, John’s pants and underwear were draped around his ankles.

A few moments later John lay naked on the bed. Sherlock’s gazed lingered first on John’s face, and then slowly he visually took in the rest of John’s body. John’s face flushed under the scrutiny.

“Sherlock, I’ m getting a little self-conscious here. Are you going to join me or just window shop?”

Sherlock climbed on the bed; still fully clothed he straddled himself over John and began to kiss him.  Gradually, Sherlock’s clothes came off one by one until he was naked as well. For a moment Sherlock lay on top of John and held him tight, and then it was if he came to life after a long sleep. Sherlock’s hands and mouth were everywhere. John marveled at how Sherlock knew every erogenous spot on his body. Sherlock didn’t just make love to John; he consumed him physically and mentally. John sighed with pleasure after climaxing. After making love to Sherlock, John always fell into a deep sleep, however, this time he fought to stay awake. Sherlock turned his head sideways, so that he could listen to John’s heartbeat.