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Surely John	By : DoctorCrane Category: S through Z > Sherlock Holmes (2009) > Sherlock Holmes (2009) Views: 2288 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own or make any money from this or the characters or story or anything regarding the Sherlock Holmes franchise.

Chapter List
- 1-Surely John
- 1
As I disappeared behind the red curtain, I could feel my stomach flutter and tried to attribute it to the lack of appetite for food lately, but the criticism of my conscious mind was sure to remind me that it wasn't a lack of edible sustenance that was causing this reaction. I looked over my web as the curtains behind me shuffled and his heavy footsteps grew louder, a slight hesitancy at the sight of the mentally arduous map I had drawn before him. "Do you like it?" I couldn't help but ask. Of course he did, but I had to hear him say it--I needed the satisfaction of hearing him speak.
I turned to face him, an explanation necessary, but the answer not so much; not for someone who knew my methods. My methods. I would believe he was aware of what I expected, but maybe not after prolonged exposure to his estrogenical composite of a future wife. I went behind the quarter-fold privacy screen, directing him further, and swiftly changing into a plain white shirt and black pants. Easy enough. I emerged and took a swift step towards him, body postured assertively to threaten him, make him aware of my presence. He stood his ground--what militia man wouldn't--and looked me over, the intent in his expression changing just slightly as the realization came to him. The depravity and exhaustion from the attention fast he had put me on must have been more obvious than I intended; some things just cannot be helped. "You look ill, though if what Mrs. Hudson tells me is correct then I'm nearly surprised you're still standing." Of course he had to bring her up.
"What would that pesky shrew know of my health?" I turned away quickly at the thought, though felt a slight tug at my wrist.
"Holmes..." he beckoned. I turned back to face him to find his lips pressed against mine, the tenseness of his body showing through the slight quiver in his lower lip. He pulled back, smiling nervously. "What happened to that hideous garment you had on moments ago?"
"You clearly fail to understand the absolute value and progre--"His mouth covered mine again, stepping me back as his hands clumsily searched for the buttons on my shirt. I pushed him backwards and batted his hands away. "Not in here. Do you know how long this took me to construct?" I walked away from him out into the main room, a plant leaf brushing my arm. His fingers curled around the top of my garment slithering farther, beginning to unfasten to buttons down my chest.
Gloved fingers followed, and I stared off at the Colombian Boa in the brush, its lithe movements and time-perfected camouflage mocking my attempt to be more like it. Fingers curled around my shoulders and pushed the fabric down towards my wrists, the roughness of his jacket brushing against my shoulder blades. His tender lips pressed against my neck, and my skin shivered. Gravity aided my divestment, but was impaired by my wrists and the simple, silver cufflinks keeping them as they were. Fervent fingers attacked the buttons on my fly, and I turned swiftly to intercept him.
"John. I don't think this is a good idea." My eyes pleaded for a more logic driven decision from him since I couldn't fathom a reason for him to stop other than the utter demise of his heterosexual consummation. How terrible.
"It's fine. You just cannot tell Mary about this." That was close enough. I tugged at the fly of his pants, the buttons unfastening easily, darting my attention back to his reaction. That scarf. I practically tore it from his neck, the mere sight of it repulsing me enough to toss it off into the brush.
"Whoops." And a coy shrug was my only response to his mildly irritated demeanor. He nearly knocked the air out of me when he tackled me to the ground, nipping at my neck, his hand forcing a surprised gasp as it squeezed between my legs. His nimble fingers mutely played through the woolen barrier, eliciting encouraging noises from me. "Oh how I've missed you, Holmes," he breathed lowly against my neck. He rolled to the side and pulled me onto his lap, grinning up at me as he began to shuffled his trousers down.
"I don't want to alarm you, Watson, but I'm afraid you've rolled near a traveling Poecilotheria, and he doesn't look too amused that you have impeded his journey." The ashy spider was bearing the yellow warning patches underneath its forelegs about fifteen inches from Watson's face; I'm glad that is all it did.
"Oh for God's sake, Holmes!" he declared and shoved me off of him, sitting up quickly, the petulant little arachnid shuffling towards him. We both stood and he pulled me over to the frond covered desk, pressing me against it as his mouth took advantage of my exposed neck. Then came a pause. "I'm not going to have some other gigantic horror repel onto my head am I? Or leap from the drawer?"
"Shh. You worry too much." I pushed his garments down, my hands quickly finding his burning flesh.
"No. I worry just the right amount considering some oriental monster just assaulted my face."
I paused. "How did you know it was from the orient?"
He gave me a confused and indignant look. "What does it matter?"
"Well, you've never been to the orient as far as I'm aware. I was just curious."
"The patches of yellow on the underside are only found on the Indian varieties of those beasts."
"Oh." I idly played with him. "And how do you know that?"
"Wh-. You're insufferable, you know that?"
"It's a simple question, Watson. Really, I don't know why you're being such a ... a..."
"From Thomas," he cut me off. "Who has been to the orient quite a few times." He pressed against me. "Now I didn't come here to argue the semantics of some ridiculous spider."
"It's not a spider," I muttered, looking away before his eyes caught mine with aggravated sternness. He pulled my pants down swiftly, my begging member springing out, a distressed noise escaping me as I tried to alleviate my embarrassment; I could feel a similar warmth rushing to my cheeks. I chanced a glance back towards him, a devious grin occupying his expression as his hands brushed against my hips and eyes examined my face. This was his favorite part; the torment.
The fabric of his gloves pulled against my protruding flesh, my teeth applying equal force to my lower lip. His fingers embraced me, a tensioning of my body swiftly following, and I would hate giving him the satisfaction if it wasn't so delightful to have his affection on me again. He removed his gloves and pressed against me, hand enveloping our steel-less duel; he was winning. My nails pulled against the grain of the desk edge, my breath losing stability. I could barely say his name and felt my ability to support myself giving way, but his observational skills were always utilized in these particular circumstances, and he released us, assisting me up onto the desk.
"Do you still keep anything useful in these drawers or is it strictly reserved for your deranged animal husbandry?"
"Second down on the left," I breathed incredulously, looking away in a bluff of impatience. He held up the jar of opaque jelly and slowly ran his thumb along the edge of the seal, watching me as my body tightened again as my eyes followed the seal, soon catching his gaze. I swallowed and looked away again, waiting for his games to break his own discipline.
The chilling sensation of his lubricated touch made my loins twitch, fingers tracing the length of my shaft. His grasp became firm, a startled breath enticing an amused chuckle from him. Another chilling sensation lower on my anatomy and a sudden intrusion that I couldn't resist.
"Doctor, I fear I may have developed a case of nymphomania," I offered with a bemused tone.
"Shall I castrate you then?" He grinned, the intrusion gaining girth.
"I would think it would be more appropriate if you offered some sort of symptomatic relief." I couldn't force myself to keep my eyes open as his well-accustomed digits excited not so holy sentiments within me.
"I shall do my best."
"I accept nothing less." His fingers curled around my waistband, shuffling my garments lower around my thighs. He stepped closer to me, fabric pressed flush against his body as he leveled with me. "Though, please be gentle." Almost a taunt, I couldn't help but submit the request based on the voracious look he had in his eyes.
A prodding heat replaced the manipulative digits, a welcomed genesis of impropriety as it pressed on, an uncontrollable breath carrying his name from my lungs. I glanced up to him, his jaw heavy and breath just as well, his attention completely devoted to keeping himself from injuring me. I gave him an encouraging nudge of the hips despite the unfamiliar discomfort. His eyes locked onto mine, hands ensnaring my thighs as he thrust into me. A hard swallow crawled down my throat as his eyes pried at my soul, flesh craving more of mine, like some sacrificial ritual. My chest lead my body up, tossing my head back as his angle shifted for the better, a spark of ecstasy repeating with each thrust as it consumed me.
I went to reach for him, my still shirt bound wrists slipping out from under me and dropping my back hard onto the desk. All for serendipity, despite the hiccup in his pace, as the sensation grew stronger, an honest moan reassuring his motions. "J-ohn. I'm unsure as to... whether I can endure much m-ore of this." My body unconsciously rolled against him, as I consciously managed to keep my hands off of myself for his sake.
"Th-hat's fine," he sighed, his following breath shuddering as his fingertips dug into my skin. "Oh God, Holmes." His pace quickened, a loud 'thud' resonated through the desk as he braced himself while my hand struggled to reach my desperate erection; damn these clothes. The brief affair I had with my hand was enough to illuminate my vision, his dedication to my elation not in vain as chilling lines of viscous liquid made erratic patterns across my abdomen. A strong hand grasped my wrist and a stifled cry through gritted teeth followed an elongated thrust, briefly extending the addictive sensation in my loins.
The air was thick and wonderful. I looked up to see how he was fairing, his eyes trying to see past his dipped brow as he panted. A smile crept to his parted lips which grew into a chuckle and soft kisses between wet map lines on my torso. I laid my head back again, 'hm'ing as his lips tickled deprived skin. "Don't we have something to be doing?" he asked nonchalantly.
"We?"
"You."
"I distinctly heard 'we'." I sat up, a grin that I could not get rid of haunting my lips.
"Well, I distinctly heard you call my name several times." There was the unpleasant sensation of our corporal disconnect, but his mouth aimed to mend that as his tongue and teeth molested my neck. His hand smeared across my stomach, paying delicate attention to my hopeful member as it betrayed my expected exhaustion. "Insatiable, aren't we?"
"I has been a while. Oh, John." My treacherous body fruitlessly ground against his hand as he teased me further.
"I believe another round of treatment is in order. You certainly cannot go out like this." His grin leached into his words, his eager manhood pressing against my thigh.
"As you insist, Doctor."
- 1
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Surely John