It had been weeks since they had had a case. Well, weeks since they had had an interesting one. It was the middle of winter and tonight the snow was really falling. It was blowing hard and you could barely see a few feet in front of you. Blizzard conditions. Not really good weather to venture outside. The snow was supposed to continue on this way the rest of the weekend and would be keeping John and Sherlock inside, away from the inclement weather.

"Isn't it beautiful out, the snow and all?" John asked, handing Sherlock a cup of tea.

"It's annoying," Sherlock pouted as he accepted the tea, sitting in his chair looking at the telly without really watching it. He was in his pyjama bottoms and dressing gown, but no shirt-he had seen no point in getting dressed when the weather would keep him inside. He quietly sipped his tea and stared blankly at the screen.

"SO BORING!" he yelled impatiently, standing up. "There's nothing to do! Nothing at all! John! What are you up to over there?"

John looked up from his seat on the couch where he was absorbed in his computer. "I was just writing..."

"What about? There's nothing to write about!"

He grabbed the computer out of John's hands.

"Ahhh, pornography, John? Really?"

John gave Sherlock a nasty look. "Well, SOME of us are normal and have sexual appetites, Sherlock."

Sherlock watched the computer screen intently. "What does that feel like?"

"You mean to tell me you've never been with anyone, ever?"

"No...the idea hadn't really crossed my mind."

"You don't ever even get aroused?"

"Well, no, not often. But at the moment I'm feeling quite pleased noticing your poorly hidden erection and knowing full well that it didn't come from watching...this." He moved his hand to indicate the computer screen.

John glared at him.

"Oh don't give me that look, there's no reason to be embarrassed. I'm not bothered."

"Well I am, Sherlock! I am!" John's face was beet red as he yelled at his flatmate defensively. "I'm not gay!"

"I know you're not gay. You're bisexual," Sherlock said, matter-of-factly.

"Oh bloody hell! Leave me alone!" John bellowed, setting the computer aside and standing up, his hands balled into fists as he faced Sherlock.

"But you don't want me to..." the other man smirked, stepping closer to John, so close he could feel his hot breath on his face.

John gritted his teeth, looked down, then back up, straight into Sherlock's eyes. "Goddamnit..." he murmured angrily, then grabbed Sherlock's face violently and started kissing him. Sherlock laughed softly, pleased, without breaking the kiss. John tried to slip his tongue into his flatmate's mouth forcefully, Sherlock hesitantly parting his lips to allow it.

John took the taller man by the waist and manouvered him down into a seated position on the couch. He climbed onto him and straddled his hips and started to kiss and suck on his face and neck. He ran his hands over his bare chest and lightly pinched and flicked his nipples with his fingertips.

Now it was Sherlock who had a flushed face. "John...Johhhhnn...what are you doinggggg...? Why are you..." he asked breathily.

"Okay, for one..." John started, then paused to take Sherlock's left nipple in his mouth, which was greeted with a little moan from the other man. "For one, I'm just bloody sick of pretending you aren't the most beautiful, fantastic, magnificent human being I have ever met." He continued to kiss and lick and nibble on Sherlock's bare skin as he spoke. "And for another, you asked me what sex felt like..." John moved his lips from Sherlock's chest to his ear. "And I plan on showing you."

Sherlock gulped nervously. What had he gotten himself into? He was very good at being aloof and impersonal, and he enjoyed teasing John for his more "human" affectations, but it seemed as though this time he had gone too far...and now he was no longer in control of the situation.

John pulled off Sherlock's dressing gown and threw it on the floor. He grinned at the sight of his completely bare chest...which was rising and falling quickly due to Sherlock's rapid breathing. He looked at him...his eyes were wide and stunned, like a deer in headlights.

"Do you want me to stop?" John asked him, suddenly a little concerned.

"No, no..." Sherlock said softly, looking into John's eyes. "Please continue as you like."

John buried his face in Sherlock's neck and started to nibble the soft flesh there. Sherlock hummed with pleasure and placed his hand on the back of John's head, knitting his long fingers in his short blond hair.

John could feel Sherlock's hardness press against him as he sat on his lap. He ground his hips against him and Sherlock let out a short gasp.

"You like this, don't you?" he mumbled into Sherlock's neck, smiling.

"Uhhh huhhhhhhhh..." Sherlock breathed. "Kiss me again, John...I liked that. It was nice."

"Oi! I wasn't your first kiss, was I?"

Sherlock looked at him seriously. "Well who the hell else do you think I would have kissed?"

"I don't know, Anderson?" John cackled.

"Fucking Anderson! You are NOT funny, John!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Did I kill your hard-on?"

"Yes, as talk of Anderson is wont to do..." seethed Sherlock.

"Hmmm...let me fix it. No more talk about You-Know-Who. Or anyone else. I'll stop teasing. So I really was your first kiss?"

Sherlock pursed his lips and nodded, still annoyed.

John pulled his jumper over his head and threw it on the floor. He unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall.
Sherlock stopped pouting and looked at his friend's bare chest. He took the long fingers of his right hand to trace the star-shaped scar on John's left shoulder. He admired it for a moment, feeling the raised flesh, tracing the old wound. John watched him explore the scars on his chest with his fingertips. He lightly grasped his dog tags and held them in his palm, sliding his fingers against the cool metal.

"Oh John, you're lovely..." Sherlock whispered. He tugged gently on John's dog tags to move him in for a kiss. John began to devour Sherlock's mouth again and all thoughts of Anderson or whoever, it didn't fucking matter, were gone. Sherlock was more than prepared to forgive John for his transgressions if John would kiss him like this.

John stood up and started to unbuckle his jeans. Sherlock watched him eagerly, eyes moving from John's belt to his face then back again. John smiled. He took off his jeans and shorts then returned to his place straddling Sherlock's lap, his heavy cock throbbing in the open air.

"J-j-j-j-john..." Sherlock stuttered, his face flushed a delightful shade of pink. "W-w-w-what are you d-d-d-d-doing?" John felt Sherlock's previously half-hard cock stiffen fully against him. John tried to kiss him again, but he had frozen up.

"Relax, relax..." John whispered in his ear, nipping at his earlobes, sending a shiver down Sherlock's spine. He let himself melt into John's body and relaxed his mouth to allow himself to be kissed. He ran his hands up and down John's bare torso slowly, with purpose.

"Let's get those pyjamas off you now, Sherlock," John smiled, kneeling on the floor and gripping Sherlock's waistband. Sherlock looked at John hesitantly.

"Now lift your hips..." Sherlock did as John said, not breaking eye contact.

John slid off Sherlock's bottoms and threw them on the floor.

"Mmmmmm!" John hummed, pleased, as he released Sherlock's rigid cock from his pants.

"John? Will you put me in your mouth? Please?" Sherlock whined at the man between his legs, his erection twitching in anticipation.

"Oh, you're asking so nicely, how could I refuse?" John took Sherlock's penis gently in his hand, making the slender man gasp from the sudden stimulation. John let his thumb glide over Sherlock's glans as he stroked him, making him gasp again.

"Your mouth, please, your m-m-mouth..." Sherlock begged, squirming as John handled his cock.

John ran his tongue along the underside of Sherlock's cock, starting at the base and moving upward. When he reached the tip he circled his tongue around it and then took it into his mouth and sucked gently. John flicked the tip of his tongue back and forth against his frenulum and Sherlock moaned loudly, knitting his fingers in the hair on the back of John's head.

"All of it...take all of it in...please..." Sherlock panted, pushing his hips forward into John's face.

John replied with an "Mmmmmhmmmm" without taking his mouth off Sherlock. Sherlock shuddered and threw his head back in response to the pleasant buzzing sensation on his cock. .

He let his head loll back and forth against the back of the couch, moaning softly as the other man pleasured him with his mouth. His dark curls were starting to stick to his forehead, damp from sweat, and his pale body was flushed pink. Sherlock stroked John's head lovingly, watching him with sleepy eyes as he sucked his cock. John took him as far into his mouth as he could, making Sherlock arch his back and gasp with pleasure.

"John, you have such a nice mouth, a wonderful mouth, fantastic, bloody beautiful...oh John..." Sherlock murmured, whipping his head back and forth, anxious to come. John sucked gently on his head for a moment and then stopped to look at his face. Sherlock was biting his lip. He looked at John longingly.

"Why did you stop?" he asked him, his voice unsteady.

"Because I have other plans for you," John grinned.

"Hnnnng?" he groaned, impatient.

"I want to fuck you in that sweet little arse of yours."

"John...I...never...I haven't..." Sherlock replied, suddenly serious.

John climbed up onto his lap and stroked his hair. "It's okay, just relax and I'll take care of everything." He kissed Sherlock on his sweaty forehead and the lanky man melted back into the couch. "I'll be right back, okay?"

Sherlock closed his eyes, nodded, and hummed an acknowledgement.

John came back with a small bottle of lubricant. Sherlock was now laying longwise on the couch. He looked at John hesitantly, his fingers tented, resting against his mouth. He has started to go soft.

"Calm down, Sherlock! I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you. Do you not want me to do this?"

"No, no. I'm sorry. Go ahead," he waved at John dismissively.

"Don't be sorry...and 'go ahead' isn't exactly a turn on!" John barked in response.

"Hmmm..." Sherlock sat upright, fingers still raised to his lips. "May we switch roles? I haven't the faintest idea of what I'm doing but I can take direction..." he drew out the last word of the sentence, raising an eyebrow, suddenly hard as a rock.

"Deal!" John exclaimed as he climbed back on top of Sherlock, pushing him back into the couch with a rough kiss. He held his face between his palms and looked him in the eyes. "You have no idea how aroused I am right now from hearing you admit that you don't know how to do something."

"Well, I do have an idea, I'm not blind...However, I can't quite see how my ignorance about this particular subject is in your favor in this situation..."

"Oh don't spoil it. It's the thought that counts."

"I don't understand..." Sherlock started. John pressed a finger to the man's pouty lips. He pursed them in response.

"Just shut up, Sherlock. Shut up. If you want to do this you need to listen to me and pay attention so you don't accidentally hurt me."

John got off Sherlock's lap and laid down next to him on his back and Sherlock turned to face him. John handed him the bottle of lubricant.

"Here, you need to use your fingers to get me ready. You can't just slam your cock into me. Not that cock...definitely not that cock..." John said, licking his lips. Sherlock laughed and kissed him, his tongue violently thrusting into the other man's mouth. He slicked up a long delicate finger and rubbed it gently against John's hole.

"In! Please!" John begged. Sherlock pressed his finger into him.

"Do you feel that bump? Please stroke...YESSSSSSS! Another finger...oh please..."

Sherlock worked up to three fingers, then bent over to whisper in John's ear.

"Do you think you're ready for my cock yet?" he breathed.

"Oh GOD yes! Don't make me beg..."

"Now you're just giving me ideas..." Sherlock smiled, pressing himself tentatively against John's entrance.

"Okay, okay. Please, Sherlock Holmes, fill me up with your gorgeous cock!" John snickered.

"Anything you say, Mr. Watson," he whispered in John's ear as he pushed himself inside him. John gasped.

"Oh fuck, did I hurt you?"

"No, no, you're not hurting me. Just keep pushing. I'll tell you if you're hurting me. How does it feel?"

"Hnnnnnnnnnnnnnggggggggggg!"

"I thought so," John laughed under his breath.

Sherlock kept thrusting into John purposefully, but each stroke was starting to become more violent and erratic. His brow was knit with concentration, his dark hair dripping with sweat.

"Harder, please! Fuck me harder, Sherlock!" John moaned, stroking himself sloppily.

Sherlock whined. "I'm going to come, John...I can't go harder or I'll come..."

"I don't care!" John retorted, still rubbing himself, as Sherlock moved his hips faster.

"Seriously John, I'm going to come! Where do you want me to come?"

"Just...in me is fine!" John yelped as he came, semen shooting onto his chest and abdomen. "Oh my fucking god!" he moaned, all his muscles contracting around Sherlock's cock, sending him over as well.

"Oh fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Sherlock bellowed as he finished inside John, providing a few final thrusts before collapsing on top of his partner, panting.

He pulled out his softening cock and nuzzled his head in the crook of John's shoulder.

"For someone who constantly feels the need to assert his supposed heterosexuality, you sure seemed to like my cock in your arse quite a lot," Sherlock snickered into John's arm, ridiculously pleased with himself.

"Thanks for ruining the moment, Holmes," John snorted, shaking his head as he stroked the man's dark hair affectionately.

Sherlock looked up at John with a stupid smile on his face. "Anytime."