A/N This is what you've been waiting for ya nasties! Contains smut btw... Enjoy!
As soon as the door shut Sherlock was all over me! He pressed his soft lips hard against mine passionately, his blue eyes shining brightly in the dimly lit bedroom. I kissed back of course, gripping his mop of dark hair trying to turn him on. I tugged on Sherlock's tie which was loosely hanging around his soon-to-be-bruised neck; he moaned in response. Unbuttoning his shirt, I just realised how beautiful he was, I know boys aren't supposed to be 'beautiful' but damn, he obviously was. His defined build was irresistible and I couldn't help but stare in awe of his magnificence.
"John?" He spoke in between sloppy kisses, "I missed you today, a lot." His deep voice was the definition of sexy. He slipped my Green Day t-shirt off me easily in one smooth move and started tracing swirls on my bare back with his slender fingers. "Oh that's reminds me, what were you doing today?" Shit.
"Um... I visited Harry for a couple hours and then... er, I bumped into a Mike Stamford so we had coffee by Trafalgar Square... And then I came home. What about you?" Phew, he may have bought it, just.
"I stayed here waiting for you." He said simply, his puppy dog eyes bulging at me.
That's it. No more Mr. Nice guy. I threw Sherlock onto the bed and hunched over him so I could undo his tight trousers. I stripped him of all his clothing as he lay vulnerable underneath me. I sucked and bit at his collarbone and neck leaving hickeys on his otherwise flawless skin.
"Woah!" I was suddenly flipped over so Sherlock was now topping. He ripped my clothes off hungrily and stared at me seductively.
"Turn over." He purred softly. I did as he said without hesitation, my hands clenching the bed sheets as he slid inside. My knuckles turned white as my balled fists tangled with the duvet, is this the ultimate pleasure? I couldn't imagine anything else taking the number one spot. Our bodies were covered with sweat and we gasped for air at every thrust. But as they say, all good things should come to an end. We were sprawled out on the bed in awkward positions and drifted to sleep.
Next morning I woke up to an empty bed and a miserable rainy day. Fan-fucking-tastic. The drumming rain pounded the ceiling and the thunder grumbled about the displeasure of the day. Right now I craved nicotine so I crept out of the bedroom door to see if Sherlock was there, but nothing emerged from the drab, dull room. I started searching chests of drawers, under Sherlock's chair and even the mantelpiece.
"Ugh come on, where are you cigarettes?" I whispered to no one in particular. A few moments passed and then I realised where they would be. The skull. I leaped over and shook the skull frantically as if I was a child taking money from my piggy bank.
Success! Half a packet was still left so I swiped them out and smoked them in a matter of minutes. Okay, okay. I have to admit that nicotine was the ultimate pleasure, well, joint first with last night of course. Speaking of last night, I was almost caught! I need to be more careful and hope that Sherlock doesn't notice the hole in my arm from the drug needle and I need to keep my alcohol levels low.
I pulled out my phone and looked at all the misread messages, 4 in all. 1 from the bank, 1 from Harry, and 2 from Gerard. He texted:
"Hey, John! Wanna meet up at mine tomorrow at 1 ish?"
"P.S. Can you play an instrument?
-Gee xoxo"
Time to reply.
"Yeah sure! Um, I was grade 3 clarinet in school if that counts :)
-John xoxo"
Ok don't judge me, I know I'm going there way too much but I do have a social life!
I was going there, whether Sherlock liked it or not.
