Bitter Moon, Sherlock (BBC), NC-17/FRAO
Mar. 14th, 2011 11:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
veronicasleepsTitle: Bitter Moon
Author: veronicasleeps
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: John/Sherlock
Word count: 1.893
Summary: Sherlock wasn’t surprised when John pushed him face first against the wall and buried his head in the too sharp hollow of Sherlock’s shoulder, but he still gasped when a hard bite was scraped over his exposed neck.
Contains: Rough Sex, Unsafe Sex, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism (e.g. Sex out in the open), D/s overtones, a teeny-tiny bit of breath play.
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Sherlock wasn’t surprised when John pushed him face first against the wall and buried his head in the too sharp hollow of Sherlock’s shoulder, but he still gasped when a hard bite was scraped over his exposed neck. “John,” he moaned, exhausted from a day of running and chasing and questioning now that he’d tied up all the loose leads and came down from the adrenaline fueled high he always got from solving a crime, “what are you doing? We’re in the street!”
John nipped his skin just below his hairline and pressed a low chuckle into Sherlock’s hair and tugged on the long strands so that Sherlock’s left cheek was pressed against cold plaster.
“As if you care,” he brushed a soft kiss along his now exposed brow and licked a soft wet stripe down to his mouth. Sherlock opened his lips; he expected a kiss but instead John just licked into his mouth in a gesture that shouldn’t have had Sherlock moaning from the depravity of it.
And John was right, of course he was, Sherlock had never had a problem with public sex, at least in controlled environments, and really, he thought, it was almost dark enough that no one would see them in the small side street. This wasn’t like the club, though, it wasn’t safe and it was far more open, far more public and by god, it turned Sherlock on.
John’s hip rubbed against his arse and his hardening cock was pressed into the hard unforgiving wall. He flexed in John’s hold, tried to get friction for himself, but John just grasped his wrists and pulled his together behind his back.
“I don’t think so, Sherlock.” He wasn’t whispering, and his voice, low and slightly echoing between the high stone walls around them seemed incredibly loud.
“But John,” Sherlock groaned excited and hesitant, flushing and shivering when hot excitement and cold dread chased goose flesh over his skin, “someone will hear. Someone will come and see and call the police and we’re not that far from the station, John!” Sherlock swallowed down the excited moan that wanted to escape his throat at his own words. His mind replayed a half forgotten fantasy of being caught by someone who knew them. He substituted them with Lestrade and Anderson now, and impossibly, his cock got even harder.
John was grinding his own cock slowly against Sherlock and he could hear John’s near smirk in his voice. “I know,” he said, “and doesn’t that get you hot.”
He tugged Sherlock's trapped arms higher up his back so that it was almost painful and then forced him around to claim his mouth in a savage kiss that had Sherlock’s lips hurting and arousal tingling through his body from his toes to his head.
Sherlock’s mouth was wide open, gasping from the burn that coursed through his body when John trailed hot wet kisses down his throat and then lower as he pulled Sherlock’s shirt up and above his head. When he tried to move his arms in front of him to pull John even closer he found himself thoroughly trapped by the tight elastic material that was bunched above his elbows.
John dug his fingers into the soft flesh inside of Sherlock’s upper arms. “Keep the shirt up there,” he said in between hard nips to Sherlock’s nipples, “and don’t move. I want you to keep still. I know it’s hard. I know you need to be fucked so bad that you can't help it, that you have to wriggle around like a needy whore and rub against me, because that’s how desperate you are. But,” he sucked Sherlock’s right nipple into his mouth and let it go with a loud ‘pop’ that was so obscene that Sherlock thought he could come just from that alone, “that’s not what’s going to happen here. You’ll take what you’re given and be fucking grateful for it, you hear me?”
Sherlock just keened and kept himself still, there wasn’t much that got him as hot as John, straight laced average John Watson, talking dirty to him, and the filth that fell from John’s lips that night made him feel all needy and whorish, just the way he liked it.
He swallowed and sucked in air as if he were drowning. He clunked his head back against the wall and closed his eyes and felt John’s hands roughly ripping the buttons of his trousers. He was dizzy, delirious with need and he was sure he looked it, too, with his clothes pushed to the side and down out in the last feeble light of the day like a common prostitute too cheap to bother with getting a room.
“God,” John closed his hand around Sherlock’s hard on and tightened two fingers around his cock head, “I should take pictures of this. Sherlock Holmes, the world’s only consulting detective panting like a bitch in heat.”
Sherlock felt his cheeks burn and his cock twitch in John’s skillful hold. He could barely keep himself from fucking up into the too tight hole that John’s fingers built for him.
“Look me in the eyes, Sherlock.” Sherlock did, he met John’s narrowed eyes and forced himself to keep them open. “Good,” John grinned, “now tell me what you need. Tell me what you want me to do to you right here. Tell me,” his grin twisted into something even more savage and he tightened his fist around Sherlock’s cock so that even a rocking motion was impossible for Sherlock. “And don’t be quiet about it.”
Sherlock chewed on his already hurting lips and shook his head, not to deny John, but to clear his head from the fuzz that turned everything out of focus, the wall and his body and John’s hands the only things that were important. The rest temporarily gone from his mind in blissful emptiness.
“I—” He trailed off in surprise when John pushed him around again, and pushed a too-dry finger up his arsehole in a sharp quick jab that left Sherlock breathless. “I want—”
“Yeah, Sherlock. What do you want?”
“I want— I want you to fuck me. I need you to fuck me.”
John huffed a little breathy laugh into Sherlock’s neck. “You want me to fuck you where?”
Sherlock’s eyes rolled up, when John pushed in another finger, this one slicked up and thicker, a thumb, Sherlock thought, and pulled and stretched in little jerky motions that burned so fucking good but that weren’t enough by far.
Sherlock rubbed his brow into the wall so hard that he could see dark red pressure points behind his eyelids and the barely there pain made it easier to concentrate on what John wanted him to say.
“I want you to fuck me,” he moaned, getting louder with every hard push and shove of John’s fingers. “I want you to fuck my arse right here, where everyone can see!”
“Yes—” John’s breath came in short burst now, he was almost breathing as hard as Sherlock then, and his words ended hard and abrupt like he could fuck Sherlock as much with them as he could with his fingers.
His hands left Sherlock for a moment and there was a lewd squishing sound but then they were back, harsh bruising fingers pulling Sherlock’s hips back and pushing his arse cheeks up and down, massaging his arse and exposing his stretched hole to the cold evening air.
“Fuck, yeah,” John gasped when he pressed his cock against the hot resistance of Sherlock’s anus. “Gonna fill you so much, Sherlock, I’m going to fuck you until you scream so loud that everyone knows what a needy thing you are.” He pushed in, slow and steady. “They’re all going to come to watch you get pumped full of my come, and when I pull out and it spills out of your gaping red arsehole they’re going to see you’re muscles twitch as you try to keep it inside of you, aren’t they? Because you just love to have come in your arse, right Sherlock?”
Sherlock pushed back into the hard fucking, lost in the movement and the friction and way too far gone to remember that he was supposed to stay still, but John didn’t care, he just fucked him harder, and Sherlock let out a near-scream when the fast paced strokes hit his prostate and his body twitched mindless in chase of its orgasm.
“John—” He moaned and twisted his arms to get free of the impromptu bonds, but there was no avail, John knew exactly how to keep him from getting free. “John— I need— fuck.”
John licked a wet stripe behind his ear and slowed his thrusts. He used one of his hands to keep Sherlock’s hips from moving and threaded the other into Sherlock’s hair. “John, what?”
Sherlock threw back his head to ease the pull of John’s hand, but John just pulled it to the left and scraped his teeth along Sherlock’s already bite-mark riddled neck.
It was as if he was hyperventilating and sinking into a deep calm at the same time. His mouth was dry and his throat even drier and Sherlock felt gasped begging spill from his tongue as if it didn’t belong to him anymore.
“Please,” he keened, “Please, John, I need this. I need to be fucked, need to be fucked by you. Please, John, please fuck me harder. Fucking move, John, please move, please!” He was desperate enough to use words that he normally wouldn’t have been caught dead using, and he knew John reveled in reducing him to this. To this needy creature, so unlike the person he usually was, unlike the well-bred man that the rest of the world got to see.
“Yeah, Sherlock. That’s right. You fucking need me. And you’re never get rid of me, now. I’m fucked into you so deep, you’ll never be empty again.” He picked up the pace again and Sherlock could finally feel the edge of pleasure and waited, desperately waited to be pushed over it and into the near-painful ecstasy that would let him fly apart.
“Yeah— Yeah, John. Come on, please! I want that.” he kept rocking back into the fucking to get John’s cock just that little bit deeper, so that it felt as if he really would stay lodged up there inside of him.
His orgasm came as unexpected to him as John's broad hand stroking upwards on his throat and closing over his mouth and nose. It cut off every chance of breathing. The panic and the need and the hard frantic thrusts into his body all mingled together in a mind blowing climax that left Sherlock week in the knees, and such a fucking mess of emotions and thought he felt he might burst from them.
He sucked in a deep breath as soon as John’s hand left his mouth free and stared blindly at the pale moon that had risen in the sky while they’d been fucking.
It was the colour of semen, his fuzzy mind supplied, and with a near hysterical laugh he let his body fall back into John’s as he wondered if it would taste like it as well. Bitter, and intense and not too-hot, like a shadow of the sun.
.
End
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Author: veronicasleeps
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: John/Sherlock
Word count: 1.893
Summary: Sherlock wasn’t surprised when John pushed him face first against the wall and buried his head in the too sharp hollow of Sherlock’s shoulder, but he still gasped when a hard bite was scraped over his exposed neck.
Contains: Rough Sex, Unsafe Sex, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism (e.g. Sex out in the open), D/s overtones, a teeny-tiny bit of breath play.
.
Sherlock wasn’t surprised when John pushed him face first against the wall and buried his head in the too sharp hollow of Sherlock’s shoulder, but he still gasped when a hard bite was scraped over his exposed neck. “John,” he moaned, exhausted from a day of running and chasing and questioning now that he’d tied up all the loose leads and came down from the adrenaline fueled high he always got from solving a crime, “what are you doing? We’re in the street!”
John nipped his skin just below his hairline and pressed a low chuckle into Sherlock’s hair and tugged on the long strands so that Sherlock’s left cheek was pressed against cold plaster.
“As if you care,” he brushed a soft kiss along his now exposed brow and licked a soft wet stripe down to his mouth. Sherlock opened his lips; he expected a kiss but instead John just licked into his mouth in a gesture that shouldn’t have had Sherlock moaning from the depravity of it.
And John was right, of course he was, Sherlock had never had a problem with public sex, at least in controlled environments, and really, he thought, it was almost dark enough that no one would see them in the small side street. This wasn’t like the club, though, it wasn’t safe and it was far more open, far more public and by god, it turned Sherlock on.
John’s hip rubbed against his arse and his hardening cock was pressed into the hard unforgiving wall. He flexed in John’s hold, tried to get friction for himself, but John just grasped his wrists and pulled his together behind his back.
“I don’t think so, Sherlock.” He wasn’t whispering, and his voice, low and slightly echoing between the high stone walls around them seemed incredibly loud.
“But John,” Sherlock groaned excited and hesitant, flushing and shivering when hot excitement and cold dread chased goose flesh over his skin, “someone will hear. Someone will come and see and call the police and we’re not that far from the station, John!” Sherlock swallowed down the excited moan that wanted to escape his throat at his own words. His mind replayed a half forgotten fantasy of being caught by someone who knew them. He substituted them with Lestrade and Anderson now, and impossibly, his cock got even harder.
John was grinding his own cock slowly against Sherlock and he could hear John’s near smirk in his voice. “I know,” he said, “and doesn’t that get you hot.”
He tugged Sherlock's trapped arms higher up his back so that it was almost painful and then forced him around to claim his mouth in a savage kiss that had Sherlock’s lips hurting and arousal tingling through his body from his toes to his head.
Sherlock’s mouth was wide open, gasping from the burn that coursed through his body when John trailed hot wet kisses down his throat and then lower as he pulled Sherlock’s shirt up and above his head. When he tried to move his arms in front of him to pull John even closer he found himself thoroughly trapped by the tight elastic material that was bunched above his elbows.
John dug his fingers into the soft flesh inside of Sherlock’s upper arms. “Keep the shirt up there,” he said in between hard nips to Sherlock’s nipples, “and don’t move. I want you to keep still. I know it’s hard. I know you need to be fucked so bad that you can't help it, that you have to wriggle around like a needy whore and rub against me, because that’s how desperate you are. But,” he sucked Sherlock’s right nipple into his mouth and let it go with a loud ‘pop’ that was so obscene that Sherlock thought he could come just from that alone, “that’s not what’s going to happen here. You’ll take what you’re given and be fucking grateful for it, you hear me?”
Sherlock just keened and kept himself still, there wasn’t much that got him as hot as John, straight laced average John Watson, talking dirty to him, and the filth that fell from John’s lips that night made him feel all needy and whorish, just the way he liked it.
He swallowed and sucked in air as if he were drowning. He clunked his head back against the wall and closed his eyes and felt John’s hands roughly ripping the buttons of his trousers. He was dizzy, delirious with need and he was sure he looked it, too, with his clothes pushed to the side and down out in the last feeble light of the day like a common prostitute too cheap to bother with getting a room.
“God,” John closed his hand around Sherlock’s hard on and tightened two fingers around his cock head, “I should take pictures of this. Sherlock Holmes, the world’s only consulting detective panting like a bitch in heat.”
Sherlock felt his cheeks burn and his cock twitch in John’s skillful hold. He could barely keep himself from fucking up into the too tight hole that John’s fingers built for him.
“Look me in the eyes, Sherlock.” Sherlock did, he met John’s narrowed eyes and forced himself to keep them open. “Good,” John grinned, “now tell me what you need. Tell me what you want me to do to you right here. Tell me,” his grin twisted into something even more savage and he tightened his fist around Sherlock’s cock so that even a rocking motion was impossible for Sherlock. “And don’t be quiet about it.”
Sherlock chewed on his already hurting lips and shook his head, not to deny John, but to clear his head from the fuzz that turned everything out of focus, the wall and his body and John’s hands the only things that were important. The rest temporarily gone from his mind in blissful emptiness.
“I—” He trailed off in surprise when John pushed him around again, and pushed a too-dry finger up his arsehole in a sharp quick jab that left Sherlock breathless. “I want—”
“Yeah, Sherlock. What do you want?”
“I want— I want you to fuck me. I need you to fuck me.”
John huffed a little breathy laugh into Sherlock’s neck. “You want me to fuck you where?”
Sherlock’s eyes rolled up, when John pushed in another finger, this one slicked up and thicker, a thumb, Sherlock thought, and pulled and stretched in little jerky motions that burned so fucking good but that weren’t enough by far.
Sherlock rubbed his brow into the wall so hard that he could see dark red pressure points behind his eyelids and the barely there pain made it easier to concentrate on what John wanted him to say.
“I want you to fuck me,” he moaned, getting louder with every hard push and shove of John’s fingers. “I want you to fuck my arse right here, where everyone can see!”
“Yes—” John’s breath came in short burst now, he was almost breathing as hard as Sherlock then, and his words ended hard and abrupt like he could fuck Sherlock as much with them as he could with his fingers.
His hands left Sherlock for a moment and there was a lewd squishing sound but then they were back, harsh bruising fingers pulling Sherlock’s hips back and pushing his arse cheeks up and down, massaging his arse and exposing his stretched hole to the cold evening air.
“Fuck, yeah,” John gasped when he pressed his cock against the hot resistance of Sherlock’s anus. “Gonna fill you so much, Sherlock, I’m going to fuck you until you scream so loud that everyone knows what a needy thing you are.” He pushed in, slow and steady. “They’re all going to come to watch you get pumped full of my come, and when I pull out and it spills out of your gaping red arsehole they’re going to see you’re muscles twitch as you try to keep it inside of you, aren’t they? Because you just love to have come in your arse, right Sherlock?”
Sherlock pushed back into the hard fucking, lost in the movement and the friction and way too far gone to remember that he was supposed to stay still, but John didn’t care, he just fucked him harder, and Sherlock let out a near-scream when the fast paced strokes hit his prostate and his body twitched mindless in chase of its orgasm.
“John—” He moaned and twisted his arms to get free of the impromptu bonds, but there was no avail, John knew exactly how to keep him from getting free. “John— I need— fuck.”
John licked a wet stripe behind his ear and slowed his thrusts. He used one of his hands to keep Sherlock’s hips from moving and threaded the other into Sherlock’s hair. “John, what?”
Sherlock threw back his head to ease the pull of John’s hand, but John just pulled it to the left and scraped his teeth along Sherlock’s already bite-mark riddled neck.
It was as if he was hyperventilating and sinking into a deep calm at the same time. His mouth was dry and his throat even drier and Sherlock felt gasped begging spill from his tongue as if it didn’t belong to him anymore.
“Please,” he keened, “Please, John, I need this. I need to be fucked, need to be fucked by you. Please, John, please fuck me harder. Fucking move, John, please move, please!” He was desperate enough to use words that he normally wouldn’t have been caught dead using, and he knew John reveled in reducing him to this. To this needy creature, so unlike the person he usually was, unlike the well-bred man that the rest of the world got to see.
“Yeah, Sherlock. That’s right. You fucking need me. And you’re never get rid of me, now. I’m fucked into you so deep, you’ll never be empty again.” He picked up the pace again and Sherlock could finally feel the edge of pleasure and waited, desperately waited to be pushed over it and into the near-painful ecstasy that would let him fly apart.
“Yeah— Yeah, John. Come on, please! I want that.” he kept rocking back into the fucking to get John’s cock just that little bit deeper, so that it felt as if he really would stay lodged up there inside of him.
His orgasm came as unexpected to him as John's broad hand stroking upwards on his throat and closing over his mouth and nose. It cut off every chance of breathing. The panic and the need and the hard frantic thrusts into his body all mingled together in a mind blowing climax that left Sherlock week in the knees, and such a fucking mess of emotions and thought he felt he might burst from them.
He sucked in a deep breath as soon as John’s hand left his mouth free and stared blindly at the pale moon that had risen in the sky while they’d been fucking.
It was the colour of semen, his fuzzy mind supplied, and with a near hysterical laugh he let his body fall back into John’s as he wondered if it would taste like it as well. Bitter, and intense and not too-hot, like a shadow of the sun.
.
End
.