Voice of a Stranger (Johnlock)

The Bed

"John," the low-pitched tone called softly, very close by. Was this a dream, or reality? John was too sleepy to worry about it, and assumed it was a dream.

There was a low chuckle, and John stirred a little. Such a sexy sound. If this wasn't a dream, he definitely wanted to be awake for this.

Opening his eyes, it was a bit odd to see Sherlock's face so close to his own, and John startled a little.

"Just me, John. Come, time for bed." There was a small grin on that tempting mouth, as Sherlock backed away and his hands urged John up and off the sofa.

Blinking slowly, John looked around and realized it was dark in the apartment and quiet. Likely quite late. Sherlock was nudging him to move and John did so.

"Um...wait..." John snapped into wakefulness at the sound of the door clicking shut. Sherlock's door, with Sherlock beside him in the dim room. His heart beat faster at the way Sherlock was looking down at him.

The tall man took a step closer, and his hand cupped the back of John's head as his mouth descended. The kiss was confident and thorough, and John's thoughts flew out of his head as he kissed Sherlock back, just needing this so much.

But he surfaced again when he felt Sherlock tugging his shirt up, and the touch of his hand against his bare skin. John pulled back, looking up at Sherlock's shadowed face. "We can't...," he said softly, wishing he didn't feel duty-bound to speak up. Wishing he could just get carried away in the moment.

Sherlock kissed down John's neck, and seemed to chuckle at his involuntary moan in response. "Just want to kiss and touch you, John. Explore you..."

As the words sank in, Sherlock moved John even closer to the bed, tugging John's tee over his head. Feeling Sherlock touching his bare skin, plus the proximity of the bed seemed to have stolen John's reasoning powers.

With a sigh, he sat down on the bed. Sherlock's eyes seemed to spark with interest, and he pulled his shirt off quickly, throwing it to the side before crawling onto the bed.

Moving to the center of the bed in just his trousers, Sherlock looked fantastic. John shifted to be lying beside him, unsure if this was just going to be too much. He'd wanted it so, so long. It still felt unbelievable.

"I haven't done this for many years... Since uni." Sherlock said softly, lying still beside John, probably sensing his nervous tension battling with excitement.

John looked at him, trying to read his expression. "Done what?"

"Been in bed with someone. Kissing. More." He shrugged. "Haven't wanted to...until now."

It seemed strange that such an attractive, interesting man hadn't had sex in at least a decade.

"Well, we should take it slow anyways, with your condition. Keep the rest of our clothes on." John said, looking down at Sherlock's chest. Still, he held back, wanting Sherlock to go at the speed he felt comfortable with.

Sherlock crawled over John, looking down at him with a small smile, before dipping his head down to capture John's lips. Their bare chests touched, and he groaned at the intimacy of naked skin against his again. It had been far too long since he'd had sex last.

The detective seemed eager but not experienced, which made sense considering his past. John loved kissing, taking the time to explore different sensations, and soon Sherlock was copying him. John was quickly panting with need.

Pulling back, Sherlock surveyed John, seeing his darkened eyes, swollen lips, and his fast breathing. "You want this. You want me." His voice was raspy with arousal, the sound going right to John's cock.