twinklingray challenged me to write rimming, so I did.
Taste You From the Inside – John lets Sherlock tie him to the bed and do what he wants.
It’s another PWP, but I do hope you enjoy.
Oh look, I wrote another johnlock fic. This one is another first time fic:
Falling Out of Orbit – When John came home early from visiting family, the last thing he expected was to find Sherlock thinking of him this way.
It’s smut and then fluff. Teaser below the cut:
John sighed as he let himself into the flat. He was supposed to be gone all weekend, but a day with Harry was plenty. The comforting smells of Baker Street and the familiar steps eased the flare up in his knee as he made his way up to the flat, moving quietly as it was late and he didn’t want to wake Mrs. Hudson. His thoughts were on his own bed and he stifled a yawn as he opened the door to the flat. It was dark save the light from the street casting eerie shadows on the furniture. He shrugged out of his coat and hung it up, noticing Sherlock’s coat was in its place. Maybe Sherlock was asleep for once.
Turning down the hall, John headed for the bathroom, noticing Sherlock’s door open a crack. He put hand on the bathroom door handle when a low noise caught his attention. Frowning and knowing he was probably violating Sherlock’s privacy, John moved towards the door as quietly as he could. Not like Sherlock respected his privacy that much. Pushing the door just a bit wider, John stared at the sight before him.
Sherlock lay naked on his back, pale skin glowing faintly in the moonlight. His head tossed against the pillows, eyes screwed shut. One elegant hand was wrapped around his cock, stroking slowly. The other hand moved between the cleft of his cheeks. John blushed bright red and started backing up.
“John,” Sherlock moaned, freezing him in place.
Heart thumping against his chest, John closed his eyes and considered his options. He was home early, after all; no doubt Sherlock expected him back tomorrow. He could go on up to bed and pretend this never happened. He could hear Sherlock in the bedroom, shifting against the sheets and moaning quietly above the slick sounds his fingers were producing. The other choice, of course, was to go in and do something about the raging erection pressing against his jeans. There might be regret in the morning, but John had never been one to back down from a challenge.
Sometimes you’re writing, and a good line just fall out. I wrote this, then stopped and stared at it for a minute:
“Even if he hadn’t intended for John to see, he wanted him. And John wanted Sherlock just as badly. They’d been orbiting each other far too long, eventually gravity was going to take hold and drag them into a collision.”
(yes, I’m writing yet another Johnlock fic)
Hey look, I did manage to get a new Salt in the Wounds chapter up!
July 1926 – An idyllic morning is shattered by a gunshot echoing across the bay.
Teaser below the cut
John woke early from habit. He stretched in his bed, glancing out the window. Dawn barely peeked over the horizon, a day promising to be warm and calm as the last two weeks. They could all use some rain, but July days like this weren’t bad at all.
Making his way to his dresser and the bowl of water there, John splashed his face and looked in the mirror. . Gray was starting to come into his temples now, just a few strands that told him his twenties were behind him. His body was still firm and strong though, tanned from the sun and hands roughened by work. There hadn’t been anyone in need of rescuing for a while, but of course they were always ready. Downstairs he could hear the kettle starting to boil, which told him Hamish was awake.
By the time he shaved and dressed, Hamish was setting the table. John had always been an early riser, but Hamish had him beat. He smiled at his son; eight years old, slender and strong for his age, dark hair always wild. There were always more rescues in the winter, so instead of attending the village school regularly, John taught him using lesson plans from the schoolmaster, bringing Hamish in once a month or so for the schoolmaster to test, depending on the weather. It was an arrangement that suited everyone, but currently he was free for the summer.
And Hamish already had breakfast and tea ready. John knew he was excited to be going fishing. He loved the water and being out on it. Unlike John, he’d even learned to swim a bit. John took his place at the table and sipped his tea. “Thank you.”
Hamish smiled and picked up his own fork. “You’re welcome.” He dug in with the sort of appetite a young boy could muster. John ate a bit slower, knowing they would still get out on the water before the day got too hot.