John let out a small groan and screwed his face up against the early morning sun light bleeding through his eyelids, pressing his head back into the pillow and stretching, unwilling to wake up and end the pleasant dream he was having. He could still feel the gentle ripples of pleasure lapping their way through his sleepy muscles, and he tried to focus on making them last. It had been a while since he'd had a sex dream, and he was reluctant to let it go. He deepened his breathing, letting his jaw go slack as he relived what parts of the dream he could remember, but each passing second brought him closer to reality, until with a sigh, he relaxed back into the sheets, defeated. But something wasn't right.

The sensation, the gentle tugging he felt beneath the sheets, wasn't fading. In fact, the more sleep he blinked from his eyes, the more intense the feeling got, until, with a small cry of alarm and an involuntary jolt, he propped himself up on his elbows and looked around.

Confusing mixed with toe-curling pleasure, setting his nerves on edge as he heard a deep, amused chuckle from beside him. Turning his head, he saw his long-term partner Sherlock lying next to him, watching, one hand supporting his smugly entertained face, the other snaking beneath the covers of their bed. John gave him a quizzical look, a gasp catching in his throat as Sherlock gave him a light squeeze.

"Good morning."

"Keep that up and it will be." John slowly lowered himself back onto the pillows, eyes not leaving Sherlocks face, not sure whether to be amused or annoyed. Now that the slight shock had worn off, he could focus on the feelings of Sherlocks hand as then slowly intensified, exciting him, making him harder. He closed his eyes and slid his own hand across the mattress, seeking Sherlock's skin. His brow furrowed as his fingers made contact with the smooth material of a waistband.

He burrowed two fingers under the elastic and pinged it against Sherlocks hip in a show of disappointment, which echoed in his voice.

"Pants?"

Sherlock murmured, sliding his hips away from Johns hand, rolling onto his front and leaning on the elbow of his free arm.

"Mmm I'm afraid so." A sly smile tugged at his mouth as John reacted to his change of pace. "This is your morning, my dear Watson."

Sherlock delighted in seeing John squirm under his hand, knowing that he could make his lover feel whatever he wanted. Watching his lip quiver and his cheeks flushed sent a thrill through his own body, exciting him, enthralling him in the moment. He shifted position to his knees as his hand moved faster, so that he was hovering over John, his eyes drinking in the sight. John's hands were on his skin, his fingertips running over the taut muscles of his navel, leaving trails of fire in their wake. An idea took hold of Sherlock's mind as his face split into a wicked grin, and he swung his leg over John's torso, letting go of him and burying his face in the crook of his neck.

John arched his back and scraped his nails over his lover's skin as Sherlock's mouth sucked and kissed at his tender flesh, his long fingers snaking back to his hips, grasping him once again with passion and lust. Cupping his hand around his chin, John lifted Sherlock's face to his, able to resist his perfect lips no more. His fingers knotted through Sherlock's dark curls as he felt his bottom lip become trapped between his teeth in a playful tease before Sherlock pulled away. Keeping his eyes locked on Johns, Sherlock gently kissed his way down Johns chest, then over his navel until he was between his thighs, and John fell back onto the pillows.

An almost whimper escaped him as he felt Sherlock take him into this mouth, the warm and wet sensation sending a shock up his spine. His chest heaved and his knees bent as Sherlocks tongue swirled around him in time with his bobbing head. His fingers were still knotted in his lovers hair, and he twisted his grip, feeling the effect around him through the tightening of his mouth. He couldn't resist looking down at Sherlock as he ravished him, the sight escalating the sensations radiating through his body. As if he sensed he was being watched, Sherlock flicked his eyes up to Johns face, a grin forming as he lifted his head, jaw slackened, face red, wetness shining on his lips enticingly.

"John," his voice was deep, husky. "I need you."

Johns entire body was quivering with pleasure, his breath coming in short gasps, so the only response he could manage was a broken yes, and an urgent nod. Sherlock scampered up the mattress, reaching over to the bedside table to grab the bottle of lube and a condom from the drawer. He leaned in to plant fast, wet kisses on Johns chest before rising to his knees and shuffling back so that John could get his legs around his hips. Both men were tense with excitement and need as Sherlock slid his hands beneath the waistband of his pants, sliding them down his thighs and exposing himself, hard and wanting. He wasted no time in squeezing the chilly gel into his hand and massaging it into John, delighting in the reaction he caused as he slipped first one, then a second finger inside. He felt Johns hips buck under his hand, and he licked his lips in anticipation.

Unwilling to wait any longer, he ripped the packet open and rolled the condom onto himself before grabbing John around his thighs and sliding him up and towards him almost aggressively. John was all too eager to assist as he angled his hips up to meet Sherlock, almost begging him to enter. Sherlock leaned in, one hand guiding, the fingertips of the other digging into the flesh of Johns thigh, tightening as the sensations hit them both.

Johns body tensed as he felt Sherlocks intrusion, his head pressed back into the pillow as his body was overwhelmed with pleasure. Sherlock was slow, gentle, easing his way in inch by inch, teasing John, taunting him, leaving him gasping for more with each deepening thrust. His eyes screwed shut and a moan left his lungs as he felt Sherlock fill him fully, getting faster and faster as John let more and more of him in. Both men were panting, sweating, demanding more from each other as the atmosphere intensified, their bodies rocking with pleasure and passion.

With each pounding beat, shock waves were sent up Johns spine, like fireworks exploding in his head. Sherlock was bent over him, hands splayed on the sheets either side of his lover, his hips pounding out a desperate rhythm as he craved satisfaction. He lowered his mouth to Johns chest and took one of his enticing nipples in his mouth, rolling it beneath his tongue, feeling his gasp beneath his lips. Feeling his climax drawing near, he leaned to one side, and shot his free hand under him, grasping John and adding to his lovers experience, keeping time with his frenzied hips. He had told the doctor that that morning was all about him, and he intended to keep it that way.

A satisfied smile formed on his face as he felt John arch beneath him, his eyes watching his lovers face as his eyelids fluttered and his sweat beaded on his forehead for a moment before sensation over took him and he hung his head, concentrating on bringing them both to orgasm. He felt the tell-tale signs of pre cum dripping over his hand and he knew they were almost there, the thought sending a burst of energy through him, powering his hips in a frenzy of desperate thrusts, until, with a broken cry, John climaxed, his warm, sticky cum covering both their chests. Satisfied, Sherlock allowed himself to release, relishing in the sensation of his throbbing cock deep inside his lover.

Sherlock rested his forehead against Johns heaving chest, exhausted from his climax, yet unwilling to give it up. John clumsily flung an arm around Sherlocks shoulders, and the two of them stayed like that for an immeasurable moment, riding the waves of their pleasure until Sherlock finally pulled out, collapsing sideways and laying next to John. He rested his head in the crook of Johns shoulder, his fingertips drawing lazy circles on Johns skin as John lay on his back, his eyes on the ceiling.

The sun was well and truly up by then, and the sunlight streaming in the window illuminating the swirling dust, creating one of those perfect moments only described in books, or so John thought. He brought his free hand to his chest, and lay it over Sherlocks, their fingers entwining on his skin. They were both still sticky and covered in cum, but neither man was willing to pay attention to that. Well, at least not until it started to run onto the sheets and become uncomfortable, at which moment Sherlock sat up with a reluctant sigh.

"I think," he said, his hand still under Johns on his chest. "We could do with a shower. What do you think?"

John smiled and rolled his eyes, sitting up to join his Detective.

"Probably a good idea." He let go of Sherlocks hand and stretched his arms above his head. "You go get the water running, ill get these sheets off." He leant forward and placed a light kiss on Sherlocks lips. "I'll be right in."

Sherlock gave a contented sigh and slid off the bed, abandoning his pants on the floor before shuffling off to the bathroom. John watched him go, in awe of his partner for a moment, finding himself once again unable to believe he had found him. With a chuckle, he stripped the sodden sheets, dumping them in the laundry basket before walking the short distance down the hallway, to where the steam was already seeping from under the bathroom door, happy and completely content.