Grind Me Down (Johnlock)

Chapter 8

John cuddled with Sherlock on the sofa. "I talked with friends and have done some research, and I'm pretty sure you were in subspace the other day."

Sherlock nodded, meeting John's eyes. "So, is that a good thing?"

John screwed his lips to the side. "Um, it's not something I'm that experienced in, frankly. I'm not into S&M, the tying of a sub up and using pain play. Pain, arousal and submission can bring the sub to subspace, but everyone I talked with had never heard of someone reaching that state from kissing alone." He shook his head.

"You have magic lips, perhaps?" Sherlock smirked, flicking his eyes down to them. He was willing to fall under their spell again.

Chuckling, John shook his head, looking at Sherlock fondly. "I think it's more about you than about me. You are an unusual man, with an incredible brain. To have you focus it on me, and trusting me enough to let go...I think that is what happened."

"I liked it, letting go. Almost a deep meditation. Following your lead." Sherlock said as he thought back on how it had felt. Peaceful, perhaps like floating in the warm salt water of a sensory deprivation tank, the outside world fading away. John was everything.

John nodded. "Well, now I know that you can enter subspace easier than other people, I'll watch for it. For now, I want you more aware of what we do together."

Seeing the intense way John was looking at him, Sherlock felt a surge of arousal. "Please say we are going to do something now."

John nodded, getting off the sofa and holding out his hand to Sherlock. He got up from his pillow on the floor, John's hand grasping his firmly. He tugged Sherlock as he headed towards Sherlock's bedroom. The possibilities made his head swim and his pants feel tighter.

Stopping at the side of the bed, John faced Sherlock. "Last time, I taught you about kissing. Today, the lesson is about touching." His hands lifted to Sherlock's top button, working it free and sliding down to the next one.

Sherlock was soaking up the feeling of John undressing him, and his nearness, his thoughts focussing down to the here and now. The world didn't exist beyond this room. Outside sounds faded, making the thump of his heart and the sound of their quickening breathing seem even louder.

The last button was undone, and John paused, looking up at Sherlock. "Before we go any further, you should pick a safe word, Sherlock."

Blinking, being pulled out of the moment, Sherlock shook his head. "No, I don't need one. I trust you."

John dropped his hands from Sherlock's shirt. "Thank you for that, but we both need it. I won't always notice your limits. Plus, I may become so involved in a scene I lose perspective a little. A safe word will pull me out enough to stop and check in with you. It protects us both."

With a little sigh, Sherlock looked up, searching for a word. "Concesso."

Nodding at the Latin word, John's hand went back to Sherlock's shirt, and slowly drew it off him. He made no effort to hide his interest as his eyes took Sherlock in, his expression admiring. "So beautiful, Sherlock."

Standing a bit straighter at the praise, Sherlock's breath caught when John's hands went to his trousers, undoing them. Soon, the fabric was sliding down his legs and John helped him step out of the garment, along with his socks.

He would have felt cold and exposed normally, wearing only his paisley silk boxers, but felt warm under John's attentive perusal. He felt attractive and cherished, and pulled his shoulders back a little.