
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1213660.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage, Rape/Non-Con
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Sherlock_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Sherlock_Holmes/John_Watson
  Character:
      Sherlock_Holmes, John_Watson, John_Watson's_Mother, Mike_Stamford
  Additional Tags:
      Online_Friendship, Online_Relationship, Alternate_Universe_-_Dark,
      Pedophilia, Dark_Sherlock, Teen_John, Teen_John_Watson, Sexual_Coercion,
      Online_Pedophilia, WIP, Masturbation, Other_Additional_Tags_to_Be_Added,
      Obsessive_Behavior, Age_Difference, Loss_of_Innocence, Disturbing_Themes,
      disturbing_behavior, Phone_Sex, Voyeurism, Possessive_Sherlock, Anal_Sex,
      Grinding, Dry_Humping, Anal_Fingering, Loss_of_Virginity, Dubious
      Consent, Verging_on, Rape/Non-con_Elements, because_John_is_a_minor, Oral
      Sex, Non-Consensual_Drug_Use, Kidnapping, Kidnapped_John
  Series:
      Part 1 of Strange_Desire
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-02-20 Completed: 2014-03-05 Chapters: 10/10 Words: 32088
****** Lies ******
by Nightfall24
Summary
     John is an average fourteen year old student who starts chatting
     online with a teen named Footballer17. He is so excited an older boy
     likes him that he doesn't catch the signs he is being coerced by an
     online predator.
Notes
     Hello everyone,
     This is extremely dark and if you are easily triggered or upset by
     online predators, I suggest you do not read this story.
     Like my other fic The Wolf of 221B's chapters were named after Peter
     Gabriel songs, I will be naming all of these chapters after Black
     Key's songs. Again, I don't know why, it's just something I like to
     do(:
     This is going to be a slow build, I'm thinking around ten chapters,
     and I will be switching back and forth between Sherlock and John's
     POV every chapter.
     This is my first dark fic, so I would love to hear feedback(: Please
     enjoy.
See the end of the work for more notes
***** The Lonely Boy *****
                            Chapter 1 - Lonely Boy
Goalie2000: Hey Mike u on?
MikeAttack: That u John?
Goalie2000: Yep, just got done with hmwk. This new chat room is dench, mate!
MikeAttack: I know right. Hey, did u see the way Toby was looking at you 2day
after practice? He was well into you, yeah?
Goalie2000: Bugger off no he wasn’t
MikeAttack: Srry mate, g2g. I’ll c u tomorrow at school
Goalie2000: K, ttyl
John closed the small screen, which displayed Mike’s ended chat. Looking over
the list of names, he decided they were either creepy old men trying to hit on
kids or dull middle schoolers. He was fourteen after all and there was no way
he was going to chat with a bunch of twelve year olds. Before he could close
the whole browser though, an incoming private message popped up.
“Footballer17?” John looked at the clock, “I’s only eleven, can’t hurt.”
Goalie2000: Watz up footballer?
Footballer17: nm just chillin. U?
Goalie2000: Same, so what position do you play?
Footballer17: Sweeper, u play goalie I presume?
Goalie2000: Good guess, lol. U guys r supposed to protect me, yeah?
Footballer17: I always protect my goalie :D Wats ur ASL?
John frowned, “ASL, what the bloody hell does that mean?” Not wanting to look
stupid, he pulled up a second tab to search for what this guy was asking him.
Another ding from his computer,
Footballer17: Ur new to this aren’t you? Srry, wats ur age/sex/location? I’m
17, male, London.
Already embarrassed, he thought it best to play it cool so the older kid didn’t
think he was more of a loser than he already was.
Goalie2000: O yea, I knew that, lol. I’m 14, male, Southampton.
Footballer17: Cool. So u have a gf?
Goalie2000: Naw, gurls r 2 annoying.
Footballer17: Lol. I agree…so do u have a bf?
Goalie2000: No, not yet. Most of the guys I know are str8 anyway.
Goalie2000: Do u have a bf?
Footballer17: Just got out of a bad relationship. Dude was a total wanker.
Goalie2000: Damn, that sux
John looked at the clock again, “fuck, almost midnight, sorry footballer I have
school in the morning,” yawning he typed his goodbye.
Goalie2000: It’s a bit late. I think I’m gonna pack it in. Nice talking to ya
footballer.
Footballer17: Wait, do u think u’ll b back on 2morrow? U seem pretty cool for a
14yo (:
John grinned, blushing at the complement from a seventeen year old, knowing the
bloke was just trying to be nice.
Goalie2000: Arsehole. Lol. Yea, I can get back on tomorrow after school.
Footballer17: Awesome! 020-7383-3432. My cell, text me if u feel like it
John’s eyes widened looking at the phone number. He bit his lip deciding
whether he should give his. This was the first cool guy to take an interest in
him and he wasn’t about to screw it up because he was paranoid by the news and
that Dateline Show.  
Goalie2000: cool! Mine’s 02-3802-3364. I’ll ttyl (:
With that, John logged off the chat room and closed his laptop, a giant grin on
his face. Grabbing his mobile off the desk, he started to type in the boy’s
phone number. Before he could finish, however, a text message popped up labeled
‘unknown.’ Sure enough, when John opened the message it was footballer’s
number.
020-7383-3432: Ur 2 slow at texting, so I thought I’d give u a hand(:
John laughed, trying to wipe the blush of his face, knowing he was being stupid
for getting so worked up by a bloke he had only chatted with for an hour. John
typed back.
John: I was trying to figure out what name I should put for u
020-7383-3432: The name’s Sherlock and what may a call u Goalie. Lol.
He quickly typed in the name Sherlock under the number. Without hesitating John
replied with his name.
John: Well it’s not as dench as Sherlock, but my name’s John(:
Sherlock: ‘Dench’ wat kind of word is that?
John: It means cool, come on old man get with the times
Sherlock: Aren’t u supposed to b in bed now, little boy
John: Yes, father (: GN mate, I’ll ttyl
Sherlock: Goodnight John
The next morning, while John was eating breakfast before school, his phone
buzzed in his pocket.A warm feeling blossomed in his belly, hoping it was
Sherlock. He pulled out his cell, excited to see ‘Sherlock’ displayed informing
him he had a new text.
Sherlock: Good morning (:
John: Morning, r u on ur way to school?
Sherlock: Yep, just wanted to say hi b4 I am forced to sit through torture
“Who are you talking to John,” came his mother’s voice from across the table.
He laid his phone down, shoving a big piece of toast in his mouth and standing
up to put his dish away.
“Just a mate from school, I’ll see you later mum,” he gave his mother a quick
peck on the cheek, then was out the door, digging for his phone again.
John: Lol, I know wat u mean. HS is a right bugger sometimes.
Sherlock: Do u have football practice after school?
John: Not 2day, but we have tryouts for the team 2morrow
Sherlock: I bet ur good, I know u’ll make it
John: I hope so but freshmen don’t usually make varsity
Sherlock: Nonsense, I know ur better than all those morons out there 
“Hey, John come on, we’re gonna be late,” John looked up from his phone to
realize he had walked all the way to school while texting.
“Yeah, coming, give me a tick,” John yelled, typing frantically on his mobile.
John: At school, I’ll ttyl. Try not to die of boredom(:
Sherlock: How can I die of boredom when I’ll b thinking of u?
“This guy can’t be serious, can he?” John whispered to himself, not sure how to
respond to the older boy’s text. Finally, he decided cheeky sarcasm would be
the best way to go and finished typing as he ran towards Mike.
John: Glad I can b of assistance :D
With that, John shoved his mobile in his pocket, trying to forget about
Footballer17. “You okay, mate? You look a right mess,” Mike slapped his shorter
friend on the back as they walked into class.
“Yeah, just a bit distracted I guess.”
“Well don’t get to distracted, yeah. We’ve got tryouts in a couple of days,”
they both sat down and prepared for a long day of boring.
It wasn't until lunch when John discreetly checked his phone, almost bouncing
in excitement when he saw there were four unread texts.
Sherlock: I’m so bored!
Sherlock: Y must these ppl torture me!
Sherlock: R U at lunch?
Sherlock: I’m SO BORED!
John just laughed at his new friends short attention span when he noticed the
texts only came within five minutes of each other.
John: At lunch now. Wat r u doing?
Sherlock: Dying slowly(: It’s good to know u haven’t died yet
John: Nope but close
Sherlock: What r u eating?
John: Mum packed me a sandwich, u?
Sherlock: Ugh, lucky git. I’m forced to eat this slop they call food
John laughed again, realizing how much he actually enjoyed talking to this
bloke. He normally wasn’t a people person but he really seemed to connect with
Sherlock.
Sherlock: What r u wearing?
John: Just boring old jeans and blue striped jumper, u?
Sherlock: My robe and silk pajama pants
John: U liar! Lol.
Sherlock: I wish I were though(:
John: I wish we went to the same school
There was a long pause, enough for John to finish the rest of his sandwich, and
he began to worry he had scared the only older bloke that had ever been nice to
him. Relief washed over him when he heard the familiar ‘ding’ come from his
mobile.
Sherlock: Me too
John: I’ve g2g, lunch is over ): I’ll tty 2nite?
Sherlock: Can’t wait(:
As soon as John got home, he ran up the stairs to start his homework and talk
to Sherlock. To his amazement, his new friend was a genius and helped him get
his lessons done in record time. However, after three rapid texts during
dinner, his mother told him to put the phone away, so John couldn’t talk to the
teen until he was done and lying on his bed in his room.
John: Srry bout that. Mums. LOL
Sherlock: I know exactly what u mean.  No worries(:
John: U done with ur hmwk. I won’t b much help unless it’s bio though
Sherlock: TY but all done. What r u doing now?
John: Lying on my bed, flipping through a mag, u?
Sherlock: Wanking(;
John’s face turned bright red, unsure if Sherlock was serious or just messing
with him. Then, another text came.
Sherlock: Do u wank a lot?
John: Umm, yeah I guess. Y?
He didn't realize until the next text that for some reason his pants started to
get a bit tighter at the thought of Sherlock wanking.
Sherlock: I do it all the time. Ur a bit young to understand but when u get to
b older it’s all u’ll want to do(:
“What the fuck does that mean!?” John whispered, angry and determined to prove
he was old enough keep up with the seventeen year old. He did get hard a lot
during school but he was usually able to hide them or calm himself down until
he got home.
John: I already do. I wank at least once a day sometimes twice
Sherlock: But u r’nt doing it right now
His filling member decided for him, and John put his hand under the elastic of
his pants, slowly rolling his balls as they tightened up.
John: Am now(;
Sherlock: What r u thinking about?
The fourteen year old was so caught up in stroking himself he hadn’t realized
his phone buzzed with another text until a second one came.
Sherlock: That good huh? LOL. I’m thinking of u(;
His youth, inexperience, and the fact an older boy was thinking about him while
jerking off made John shoot off like a rocket. “Holy fuck!” He groaned looking
down at the light white come all over his shirt, “damn it.”
John: Damn it! U made me ruin my shirt. LOL.
Sherlock: Will u forgive me if I ruin mine, too?
John: Yes, I think that’s only fair. How have u held out so long?
There was a two minute hiatus between their texting, giving John enough time to
throw his shirt in the basket and get a new one.
Sherlock: Many more years of exp. Now I have to clean myself up. Thanks a lot :
P
John: Glad to be of service once again. LOL.
Sherlock: I think it is time 4 u to go to bed
John huffed, trying to be annoyed at another bloke telling him to go to bed but
he was really just disappointed that he wouldn't get to talk to Sherlock
anymore until tomorrow.
John: Ok dad ):
Sherlock: Well someone has to keep an eye on u.
John: I am pretty worn out, no thanks 2 u. GN tty 2morrow
Sherlock: Goodnight John
 
 
***** The Desperate Man *****
Chapter Summary
     Sherlock's POV continuing right after the first chapter.
Chapter Notes
     Hello again everyone,
     As I said in the last chapter, this is a dark fic that deals with
     very upsetting issues. If this is triggery for you, then do not
     continue reading. I appreciate comments that are either positive or
     have constructive criticism, but there is no need to comment if all
     you want to say is, "this is horrible, what is wrong with you."
     Sherlock is mentally unstable and a pedophile, I do not condone any
     type of pedophilia or child abuse, nor do I 'get off on it.' this is
     just a story that I came up with after watching a movie called
     'Trust.'
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                         Chapter 2 – The Desperate Man
Sherlock way lying on his bed panting hard, slowly stroking the come covered
mobile sitting atop his chest. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as
pictures of his John passed through his mind. The boy’s face wasn’t too hard to
find, what with Facebook and his football photos posted everywhere online,
Sherlock had already printed out five pictures, placing them on his bed and by
his computer. Exhausted from his orgasm, he fell asleep thinking about how he
would draw the boy in far enough where John would give him everything, and
Sherlock would not have to ask for any of it.
The next morning Sherlock woke up with a scowl on his face when the first thing
he smelled was old come and sweat, but as soon as he remembered why, he grabbed
his phone to see if his John was awake yet. He knew the boy had football
tryouts today and he would either be the supportive shoulder to cry on if John
didn’t make it or patting him on the back if he made the team. Either way,
Sherlock would make sure to be a vital part in John’s big day.
Sherlock: Big day 2day! U ready?
Sherlock was sitting at his laptop using the tracking radar he had purchased to
hone in on John’s mobile to see where the boy was. Already on his way to
school, Sherlock grinned again letting pride wash over him that his John was a
good student.
John: Way nervous. But ready, I think(:
Sherlock: You will do awesome. I know it!
John: Thanks, I’m at school already. Wish me luck.
Sherlock: Good luck
The worst part about the day was when John was at school and Lestrade had no
cases for him. His mind began turning in on itself, attacking like a civil war
was breaking out among his consciousness. To shut it off, he pulled up his
favorite picture of the blonde boy, shimmied out of his trousers and started
rubbing himself slowly. Filling his spastic mind up with pictures of himself
over John, under him, spooning him, inside him, soaking up his innocent cries,
and then in record time he came all over his hand groaning with a sated smile
on his lips. His mind was calm.  
After a long bath and breakfast, it was time to check in on his John again.
Sherlock almost fell out of his chair when he saw he had a missed text from the
boy. The sheep had wondered into the wolf’s den all on its own. The man knew he
had won.   
John: Hey, you there?
Sherlock: Yea, wats up?
John: Nothing, just eating lunch. Getting really nervous though.
Sherlock: That’s normal. Just go out there and do ur best, yeah?
John: Thanks. I just wanted to talk to u b4 tryouts. They r at 3 so I’ll text u
after.
Sherlock: U can do it. Good luck.
Sherlock had gone back and forth debating whether or not he should go to John’s
tryouts. Of course he knew where they were being held and his faith in his
covert abilities was unwavering but he wanted to wait. The first time he saw
the boy in person, he didn’t want to hide, didn’t want to feel like there was
something wrong with what he was doing.
At two o’clock, an hour after Sherlock had decided to stab three different
types of pillows to measure the amount of feathers that came out, Lestrade
texted him about a murder. “Oh thank God,” The detective sighed, throwing on
his coat and grabbing his mobile just in case his boy needed him again. He
would go to the crime scene, solve the Yards petty murder for them and be back
in time for John to tell him all about his practice. “Perfect!”
“Hey freak,” an annoyed voice yelled as Sherlock walked into a small building
surrounded by yellow tape. Rolling his eyes but ignoring the jab, when normally
he would comment about Donovan’s sexcapades the night before, he felt no need
and walked past the officer, going to stand beside Lestrade.
“Glad you’re here Sherlock, this is a nasty one I’ll tell ya,” the grey haired
man said, kneeling down by the victim. The play out of the murder was obvious
to the consulting detective before Lestrade even started rattling off the case
specifics. Bored already and wanting to get back to the only intriguing thing
that could bring tranquility to his mind, Sherlock strode over to where the
angry mistress had shoved the knife under the kitchen sink. Throwing open the
cupboard, he revealed a pool of blood and a large steak knife behind the
rubbish bin.
“Check the knife for prints, which belong to the victim’s husband’s mistress.
Call me when you have a real case Lestrade, not these ridiculous Cluedo board
games. I have more important things to do.” Sherlock added, as he walked out of
the building and pulled out his phone.
“Like what?!” Lestrade yelled back, but the mysterious man was already getting
into a cab. The DI scratched his head in confusion but knew Sherlock was always
right, so he had the knife sent off for printing.
Sherlock: So are you the new varsity goalie?!
Sherlock texted as he strode up to 221B, plopping down in front of his laptop.
John didn’t answer right away, so the detective pulled up the GPS to make sure
everything was alright. The green dot that was his John’s mobile was still at
the field. As time passed on and he still hadn’t heard from the boy, Sherlock
became more and more agitated. He had nothing to do, nothing to stop the
thoughts and ideas bouncing around in his head and it was eating him up from
the inside. “Oh of course,” he finally said and pulled up a program called
Photoshop on his computer.
He knew he would have to break it to his boy that he was not seventeen like his
Footballer17 persona. However, there was no need to tell him his true age until
they met, and they would meet, Sherlock promised to the darkest part of his
chaotic mind. Pulling up a current picture of himself, Sherlock started adding
a few airbrush effects, made his face a tad skinnier, his hair a bit longer,
and once he was done, the picture was still him but he looked to be in his
early twenties instead of early thirties. “That should do,” he smiled to
himself.
John: Guess what?!!
The moment Sherlock checked the text, he knew his John had made it on the team.
Of course he already knew this, his boy was the most exquisite creature on the
face of the Earth, so how could he not succeed in some stupid football game.
Sherlock: What?
John: Guess who’s the new goalie for the varsity team?
Sherlock: Who?
John: One John Hamish Watson!!
A tooth filled grin creeped across the man’s face when he saw the boy had used
his entire name. Sherlock had already known his full name, date of birth, and
home address, but John didn’t know that; and now he trusted the man on the
other side of the phone with this valuable information.  
Sherlock: I knew u could do it! Congrats John!
John: Thanks! I can’t believe it.
Sherlock: I can. I told u ur better than all those morons out there
John: Phew, I’m at home now. Even varsity goalies have to do their hmwk. Lol
This is the time,Sherlock thought to himself. John was on an endorphin high
right now and even finding out his new best friend wasn’t really seventeen
couldn’t upset him.
Sherlock: R u at ur computer?
John: Yea, y?
He waited for the teen to log on to their private chat, then continued.
Sherlock: I have something to tell u. I haven’t been quite honest with u.
John: What is it?
Sherlock: I’m actually a college student. I’m 22 yo.
There was a long pause before he finally heard another text come.
John: Y did u lie to me?
Sherlock: b/c I knew u were in HS and I didn’t want to come off as ‘telling u
what to do’ when we talked about hmwk or football.
Sherlock: I’m sorry):
Again, a long pause before John responded but Sherlock wasn’t worried. He had
planned every piece to John Hamish Watson’s puzzle and there was no way his boy
could refuse.
John: It’s okay. I do appreciate u helping me with my hmwk. That math is a
right bastard. LOL.
Sherlock: I knew u were cool. U wanna c my pic?
John: Yea! B nice to know who I’m talking 2(:
Sherlock already had the photoshopped picture ready to go and uploaded it onto
their chat screen.
John: Wow, that’s u?!
Sherlock: Yep(: Am I ok?
Drawing John out was easy because the teen was…well, a teenager who was already
self-conscious about himself and sympathized with others who felt the same. He
knew John would send a picture without Sherlock having to even ask.
John: Totally, ur way cute(;
John: Give me a tick and I’ll take 1 of me and send it
And there it was, another piece of John to collect in his mind palace. In the
deepest cavern, past the skeletons and cobwebs where no light ever shown, that
is where John would fall… and Sherlock would keep him.
John: K, here u go. It’s with my webcam so it’s a bit rubbish.
“No, not rubbish at all my dear John, beautiful,” Sherlock could feel is cock
swell, whether from the new picture of his John or because he knew he had him.
Sherlock: No, u r beautiful!
He could just picture the blush coming across the blonde’s tan skin, just from
a compliment.
John: Thanks. Lol. Well, I g2g to dinner, so I’ll ttyl.
Sherlock: Congrats again varsity goalie(:
John: Thanks mate!
Once Sherlock had printed the new picture John had sent him, he lay on his bed,
holding it to his chest. Finally he came all over his chest again but he didn’t
care, for his mind was no longer a maelstrom of chaos, John had calmed the
waters and now he could sleep.
 
 
Chapter End Notes
     Thank you for reading(: I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
***** All You Ever Wanted *****
Chapter Summary
     Back to John's POV directly after chapter two. John and Mike go to
     the Shopping Centre.
Chapter Notes
     Hello again,
     Thank you for all of the kudos and comments, I really appreciate all
     the feedback. This fic is still dark and only getting darker, so I'm
     going to say this at the beginning of each fic...if your are easily
     offended or upset by pedophilia and online predators, please do not
     read this fic.
     Please enjoy(:
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                        Chapter 3 – All You Ever Wanted
Sitting at the dinner table, John slowly ate the beans and toast his mother had
made for him. His mind was at war with itself trying to let the day’s events
sink in, not knowing how to feel or what to think. On one hand, he was the
happiest he’d ever been after making the varsity team, knowing that now he
would make more friends and maybe be considered one of the cool kids for the
rest of his high school career. Then, Sherlock, who he already considered one
of his closest friends, confessed that he was really twenty two years old. 
He was confused on why a college student, who was exceptionally handsome, would
even want to talk to him, let alone call him beautiful, but also thrilled
beyond belief that a college student would want to talk to him and call him
beautiful. A small part in the back of his mind told him something was not
right about this, but in the end John decided it was just his stupid teenage
low self-esteem. Plus, he had seen 20 year olds hang out with 40 year olds
before, so why couldn’t someone 14 hand out with a 22 year old. After he
spooned the last bite of his meal into his mouth, the boy decided it would be
childish to not stay friends with someone as nice as Sherlock just because of
his age.
“Oh, Johnny I almost forgot! How did the tryouts go today?” His mother asked,
excitement in her eyes. John, however, knew her enthusiasm wasn’t for him but
instead it was based on her hoping he would make the team so she could brag to
the other football moms that her son had made varsity. It didn’t bother him too
much anymore though, he was trying to be proud of himself and now he knew at
least one other person was really happy for him.
“Mmm,” John grunted in affirmative, “yeah, made first string goalie for
varsity.”
“That is wonderful Johnny! I’m so pleased with you, goodness I need to call
Bethany and let her know. I wonder how her boy did, what is his name, Mike?”
“Mike only made the freshman team. It sucks, I really wanted us to play
together and he’s really good.”
“That’s good dear,” she said, already distracted from dialing on the home
phone. “Clean up your plate and make sure to finish up your homework before
bed. Wouldn’t want you to get kicked off the team because of bad grades, now
would we?”
“Heaven forbid,” John muttered under his breath, putting his plate away and
heading up to his room. He was upset that Sherlock had already gone to bed and
they couldn’t talk more, but he understood how difficult it must be going to
Uni; hell, he could barely get through High school. Pulling his books out, he
planned on finishing his homework, but saw Mike was in the chat room.  
Goalie2000: Hey Mike, how’s it going?
MikeAttack: Alright I guess, dad is pissed I didn’t make varsity
Goalie2000: Yea, mate that well sux. U totally should’ve made it
MikeAttack: No worries, congrats to u though! That’s awesome first string
goalie
Goalie2000: Thanks!
MikeAttack: Hey, was gonna ask u who do u keep texting? U r on ur mobile all
the bloody time.
John paused, “I’m not talking to him all the time,” he whispered to the
computer and rolled his eyes at Mike, who was probably just mad they weren't
hanging at lunch anymore.
Goalie2000: It’s some1 I met on here. His name’s Sherlock, he’s a right cool
bloke.
MikeAttack: Cool, does he go to HS around here?
He realized this was the first time he’d ever told somebody about the bloke
he’d never even met and now he didn’t know how his friend would react to the
fact John was talking to a college student. Mike was cool, but was no were near
as mature as John and would most likely not understand, so the teen decided
against telling his friend.
Goalie2000: He lives in London, but he’s 17 and a sweeper on his varsity team.
Pretty cool, yea?
MikeAttack: 17? And he wants to talk to u? Did u have to pay him :D
Goalie2000: Shut up! The blokes cool and a right genius. He helps me with Mrs.
Flander’s math hmwk.
MikeAttack: U’ve been holding out on me! That stuff is about to kill me, ya
know!
Goalie2000: I’ll help u 2morrow if u wanna come over. Maybe we can go to
WestQuay b4 cuz I need to pick up some new cleats.
MikeAttack: Yeah, I’ll b over around 10. And congrats again Goalie!
Goalie2000: Thank. C u 2morrow
It took John another hour to finish up all his homework, then he showered,
kissed his mum goodnight, and crashed on his bed. He tried to fall asleep but
for some reason he couldn’t get Sherlock’s praise and the photo he had sent to
him out of his head. He loved the fact that he didn’t even have to ask for the
photo, either, Sherlock just offered it up, because that’s what friends do.
John convinced himself, but it was strange and to be honest a little scary that
a bloke he hadn’t even met was taking up so much of his head space. The teen
rolled over a couple of times, finally shaking off his confusion at his
feelings and falling to sleep.
He woke up at nine to a ‘ding’ from his mobile. Excited to tell Sherlock he was
going to pick out a new pair of cleats, John swung his feet out of bed and
picked up the phone.
Sherlock: Saturday!!
John: I know, right? I just got up. Going to the WestQuay shopping Centre today
to pick up some new cleats for practice.
Sherlock: Awesome! U should look at some new clothes 2 now that ur gonna be a
hot shot. Lol.
John: What does that mean?!
Sherlock: Well, u said u were wearing a jumper to school the other day and then
when u sent me that pic u had on another jumper…really John?
The boy laughed at the text as he was pulling a green and white striped jumper
over his head. He decided it might be best to stop at one of the clothing
stores, after all, the money he got for his birthday a month ago was really
burning a hole in his pocket.
John: Yea, yea, point taken(: Just put on my green jumper and now headed to the
shopping Centre with Mike. Lol. I’ll text u later
Sherlock: Have fun! And pick out something sexy :D
John: Whatever. Lol.
He tried to wipe the blush off his face, cursing himself for being so sensitive
and bashful at a stupid work. “Sexy,” he said trying to make it sound cool as
it rolled off his tongue. Running down the stairs, he found that Mike was
already waiting outside with his mobile in hand and longboard under his feet.
Before he could even get a bite to eat, John heard Mike’s text go to his phone
and decided to forego the meal in favor of getting to the Centre before it got
busy. “By mum, I’ll be home around four!” He yelled, grabbing his board and
running outside to meet with his friend.
“’Bout time mate, ready?” Mike buckled his helmet and grinned, “wanna race?”
“You know I’m gonna beat you right, you really want to challenge the varsity
goalie?” John laughed but was soon knocked off balance from his board. Mike had
shoved him, then cheered and started pushing to pick up speed towards their
destination. “Bastard,” the boy laughed, throwing on his helmet and pushing off
hard to catch up to his friend.
John was winning until they got closer to the WestQuay and a security guard
told them to knock it off or he would write them a ticket. The boys just rolled
their eyes but walked the rest of the way, strapping their boards to their
backpacks. They laughed and joked as they walked around the Centre, stopping in
a few shops before they got to the sports store that John needed to go in.
“Here it is, do you need anything?” John asked, looking at Mike, who was
preoccupied with staring at the three girls over by the Starbucks. “Go talk to
them.”
“No way, are you kidding me? That’s Mary Morstan, a junior, way out of my
league mate.”
“They’re alone, just go talk to her while I’m in the store. I need to pick out
some clothes too, so just go buy them a coffee and then ‘poof’ you’re in!” John
shoved his nervous mate over towards the girls, pleased that after a few pushes
Mike went on his own.  
John watched from inside the store as Mike kicked at the ground while he asked
if the girls wanted to have a coffee together. He smiled when they giggled and
nodded, then looked back at the wall of shoes, “bloody hell, how am I supposed
to choose?” Grabbing a few cleats he liked, three athletic looking shirts, a
few neon colored pants, and mesh shorts, John hauled them into the dressing
room for some privacy.
He took off his trousers and jumper, then pulled on a yellow Adidas shirt that
was made out of a material called ‘slim fit,’ and then replaced his boring
white y-fronts with blue boxer briefs. John frowned at the mirror when he saw
how the shirt clung tightly to his frame, because all though he had a flat
stomach, he still hadn’t achieved any definition in his abs like most of the
football players did. However, he did like the briefs much better than the
pants his mum bought him. As soon as he started to get flustered and unsure, a
‘ding’ came from his mobile, which was in his trousers hanging on a hook.
Sherlock: Find anything good?
John: Ummm, trying to decide right now. I think I should just stick with the
jumpers. Lol.
Sherlock: Nonsense, u have to dress for success John. Let me c what u’ve picked
out?
Sherlock: I can let u know if it’s cool or not
John paced around the small changing room, debating whether he should send
Sherlock a picture of the clothes. He knew he looked ridiculous and didn’t want
Sherlock to laugh at him, or worse not want to be friends with a loser anymore.
He decided to put his stupid insecurity behind after he saw Sherlock’s next
text.
Sherlock: We’re friends, I won’t judge
It took John five tries to get a photo that he liked, then sighed, crossing his
fingers and sent the pictures with his phone. It felt like years before
Sherlock texted back, but in reality it was only a short minute until he
responded.
Sherlock: Those are perfect! If u can find that shirt in blue and black, I know
u will be turning heads(:
The teenager gave a sigh of relief when he read that a college kid thought his
clothing choice was cool. He was about to through the trousers on to see if
they had any in the color Sherlock specified, when another text arrived.
Sherlock: I don’t know about the pants though. I’ve tried long boxer briefs
like those b4 and they ended up really annoying me when I was running. Try to
find some briefs that don’t go down so far on ur legs.
John rubbed his legs together to mimic jogging and understood how they could
eventually become annoying.
John: Thanks! I saw some out there. I’ll go grab some and c if they r better.
He pulled up his trousers, leaving the rest of the clothes to try on in the
room, and went back into the store to find what Sherlock recommended. Coming
upon a row of pants, John walked down the aisle until he found a shorter
version of the briefs he wanted, pulling off a red, black, and purple pair,
then running back to the changing room. Once there he took off his shirt,
trousers, and pants, John shimmied into the purple boxer briefs, posing in the
mirror. Just like before, his self-esteem dropped when he saw himself in the
mirror and was even worse this time because he didn’t have his shirt on.
Sherlock: Where u able to find anything better?
John: Yeah, don’t know if I like them tho. Look kinda weird.
Sherlock: I bet they don’t. U need to start thinking better of ur self(:
John: Fine, I’ll show u and u’ll c wat I mean. Don’t say I didn’t warn u.
He was angry that Sherlock had called him out on his self-depreciating
tendencies; he knew he wasn’t sexy or handsome and now Sherlock would see it
too. He took a full body picture using the mirror in the room, to prove to his
friend that they did, in fact, look weird.
Sherlock: Those are exactly what u need. What the bloody hell r u talking about
weird. Mate, u r 1 sexy high schooler. (;  
John: Nobody likes a liar
Sherlock: I am not lying. U look hotter than any guy here at Uni. U better buy
those clothes!
John let out a sigh, but couldn't hide the smile that came across his face. He
wouldn’t have any reason to lie, we haven’t even met yet.He thought to himself
as he put on the clothes he came in with and pulled the three pairs of briefs
and two shirts into his arms, heading towards the queue.
John: Thanks for ur help, mate. I would’ve just stuck with the jumpers if it
wasn’t for u. lol.
Sherlock: No worries. Now u can burn those things and dress like a bad-arse
footballer(:
John: I will not burn those jumpers! But I will wear the other stuff more
John: Well, g2g. Meeting Mike at the Starbucks so I can show him what u showed
me about those bastard math problems.
Sherlock: Does Mike know about me?
John: Yea, of course…well I did tell him u were 17 tho
Sherlock: Y?
John: B/C he won’t get it. He doesn’t know u like I do and will freak out like
a baby
Sherlock: Cool, well let me know if u need any more advice on pants(:
John: Thanks, I’ll ttyl
John had a wide grin on his face as he walked out of the store with a plastic
bag full of the clothes he purchased. Mike and the three girls were still
sitting at a table drinking their coffee, when he bought his own and joined in
on the conversation.
Chapter End Notes
     Thank you for reading and I would love to hear what you thought.
***** Till I Get My Way *****
Chapter Summary
     Sherlock's POV two days after chapter three. Sherlock becomes more
     and more possessive and takes action to ensure he can always keep an
     eye on John.
Chapter Notes
     Hello again everyone, thanks to everyone for your kind comments and
     kudos. I really appreciate them because this fic is really wearing me
     out, a lot more than I thought it would.
     The chapters are getting much darker. Especially when it is
     Sherlock's POV because I am making him what I think is called an
     'unreliable narrator,' like in "A Tell Tale Heart." He is insane and
     these chapters are based on what he thinks and feels...if that makes
     any sense at all(:
     Please check the updated tags and I hope you enjoy the chapter.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                         Chapter 4 – Till I Get My Way
“Oh John,” Sherlock whispered as he looked upon what he had deemed ‘John’s
Wall,’ which had all the pictures he had found on the internet and the ones his
beautiful innocent boy had sent him from the dressing room two days earlier.
Those pictures that John had sent of his own volition in his short purple
briefs, which Sherlock had asked, no toldhim to buy were by far his most
cherished possessions. Always following his and John’s morning routine, the
detective began stroking himself slowly, his gaze tightly fixed on the look on
his boy’s face, so unsure of himself…so afraid of disappointing his best
friend.
Sherlock sped up his hand, slowly stoking up and down his thigh with the other
as he pictured himself kissing that insecure look off his John’s face. He
wouldn’t stop until the boy was moaning and begging for forgiveness for his own
doubtfulness. John was his now and no lover of ‘The World’s Only Consulting
Detective” would feel anything but pure ecstasy. “You. Are. Mine,” the man
choked out as his hips arced off the sofa, picturing the small blonde boy
sitting on his lap and thrusting into him, forcing his seed as far in as
physically possible. “Forever,” Sherlock gasped, smearing the white liquid into
his chest and all over figment John’s back, marking the boy who was panting and
moaning in his mind, begging him for more.
“Fuck,” Sherlock laughed in his post orgasmic high, then he slowly stood up and
headed for the bathroom. Stripping and turning on the tap to the bathtub, he
sat his mobile down on the edge and gracefully sunk into the warm bubbly water.
Instead of murders, clues, facts, and deductions battling through his mind,
Sherlock was graced with peaceful images of the teenage boy sitting in their
tub letting his best mate and lover wash off the sex from a few minutes ago.
The detective leaned his head back and closed his eyes, a slight smile on his
face as he cradled John in the tranquility of the blackest chasms of his mind.
Pulling out his phone, only to notice it was John’s lunch period already,
Sherlock dried his hands on a flannel and began typing rapidly.
Sherlock: Oi!
John: Oi, ur self(:
Sherlock: So what u wearing???
John: I can smell ur smugness from here. LOL
Sherlock: I was right wasn’t I? Turning heads already?
As Sherlock keyed in the last text, his hand gripped the mobile tighter just
from the thought of anyone having eyes for John. Anyone other than him of
course. At that moment, the detective realized it was time to move into the
second phase of making the student his. He wanted John’s mind to be filled up
with thoughts only of his dear friend Sherlock, just like the boy had done for
him.
John: Yea, even Robert, 1 of the coolest seniors came up and talked 2 me(:
Sherlock: That’s well cool mate!
“That is unacceptable John!” Sherlock actually shouted, kicking the foot of the
tub, causing water to splash onto the floor. Possessive drive took over his
fingers as they typed back to his boy.
Sherlock: Hey, I was thinking…
John: Yea?
Sherlock: Do u maybe want to chat 2nite?
John: U mean not text? Like ring each other up?
Sherlock: Well, I was just thinking it would be pretty dench to actually hear
the voice of my best mate. Lol.
As his brilliant John had done so many times when texting him, Sherlock used
the power of sarcasm and humor to lower the seriousness of the current subject.
Except when the detective used the tactic, the teen was unaware of the
manipulation and always…always fell right into the dance Sherlock had
choreographed for them.
John: ‘Dench?’ C, now ur getting the hang of it old man :D
John: But yea, I would like that 2. I’m going over to Mikes for dinner and hmwk
but I’ll b home around 8. Text u then!
Sherlock: Brilliant! Tty 2nite(:
His new plan was already set up perfectly in his head as Sherlock jumped out of
the tub, dried off quickly and threw on a pair of black trousers and button up.
He combed his hair, brushed his teeth, placed his mobile in his pocket, and
picked up a black bag full of surveillance equipment he had nicked off the
yard, heading to find a cab to take him to Southampton.
It took him a good hour and a half to reach John’s house, all the while he kept
checking his mobile to ensure the boy was still at school and his mother was at
work. When they pulled up to the house, Sherlock had to calm every bone in his
body so he didn’t just jump out, track down John and take him home then and
there. However eager the man was, he knew the hunt was the best part and would
be damned if he ruined it by jumping the gun. He paid the cabbie, grabbed his
bag of goodies, and headed up to the door.
It was easy enough to pick the lock without being seen by the neighbors and
then he was finally standing in his boy’s room. Once in the oasis, the man
couldn’t help himself and walked over to a blue pillow, shoving his nose into
the fibers and inhaled deeply. A euphoric sigh exited his mouth, moistening the
pillow, as John’s young sweet scent filled his entire being. He had never felt
calmer and more at peace in his entire life standing over the blue bed with his
trousers becoming tighter by the second.
Pulling himself from the blissful daze, Sherlock set his bag down and looked at
his phone to find John traveling to Mike’s, who should be thankful that he was
straight, while his mother was still at work. “Now for the eyes,” the man
whispered fondly, pulling out a small camera that was no bigger than a button.
Searching the room with his detective eye, he settled on placing one of the
lenses on the ceiling fan above the bed and the other on a bookshelf on the
opposite wall and a few feet above where John slept.
“You can’t escape my eyes now John,” Sherlock grinned as he placed another
camera just between the shower rod and curtain, above normal eye line so the
Watson family would be none the wiser. The intruder looked over the shower,
smelling the shampoo that coated his boy’s soft blonde hair and the soap that
coated his smooth young body. A shiver of pleasure ran up his spine and down to
his now aching cock, but he regained his composure, unwilling to come without
John.
As he was leaving the house however, the temptation to grab a pair of black
briefs from the teen’s laundry bin for tonight’s little chat was too much for
any man. Shoving it into the black bag, Sherlock pulled out his phone to ensure
all three cameras were working and the family was still a far, and then strode
out of the house, locking the door as if nothing had ever happened.
Again, it took another hour and a half to get back to Baker Street, while
Sherlock flipped between the three camera images, looking over John’s room with
a fine tooth comb. Once he made his way up the stairs to 221B, changed into his
robe and pajama trousers, made a cup of tea, and synced the camera feeds to his
laptop to see all three views at once, it was five minutes past eight. No
sooner had he looked at the clock, a teenage boy was walking into view on the
laptop screen.
“Show time,” Sherlock clapped his hands, unable to wipe the giddy smile from
his face just from being able to watch his John in his own environment. The boy
ran his hand through his hair, nervous are we John?pacing back and forth in
front of his bed. The detective zoomed in the bookshelf camera to see John
biting his lip, eyes darting back and forth, until finally he picked up his
phone and lie on his back on the bed.
John: Hey, I’m home(:
Sherlock: Do u feel like talking? We don’t have to if ur 2 tired.
The detective already knew what the answer would be, so he sat down in his
chair with the laptop in front of him and a cup of tea and John’s briefs
sitting on the side table next to him.
John: No, no I’m good. So do u want me to call u or u call me?
Sherlock: I can call. Give me a moment.
The older man stilled himself, hit the call button, and pressed his ear to the
mobile. A sigh escaped his lips when he heard the sweet unsure voice coming
from the other side of the line. “’ello?”
“John?” He made his voice sound as light as possible with a hint of hesitation
to make his John more comfortable.
“Oh, uhhh…hey?” A long silence held for a few moments and then they both
started laughing at the awkward situation.
“Were you able to show Mike how to do the quadratic formula like I taught you?”
 “Yes, yes, it’s brilliant! I think we both are going to pass math finally, I
really appreciate the help.”
Sherlock had heard the boy’s voice before but now that ‘that voice’ was
addressing him, laughing with him, it was even more intoxicating than the
detective could ever have imagined. The man watched John settle on his bed even
more, relaxing into their conversation. “No worries mate, glad I could help.
Oh, yeah I was gonna ask you, have you seen the new RoboCop movie yet?” Of
course Sherlock hadn’t seen it but knew John went with his mates a couple of
days ago to see the horrid action movie; however, he wanted to keep the
teenager talking just so he could soak up the his sweet timber like a sponge,
storing it in his mind palace.
Their conversation went on and on for about an hour, talking about the latest
movies, music, football games, and which professors they would like to murder
and why. Finally, John’s voice was relaxed, as was his body and Sherlock had
had enough of hunting. It was time to pounce. “Hey, I forgot to ask, so are you
a virgin?” He asked nonchalantly.
“Well, ummm, yeah…yeah I am. I know I shouldn’t be it’s just I haven’t found-
“John began stuttering, embarrassed at both the question and admitting his
inexperience to an older bloke. Sherlock smiled as he began rubbing himself
through his trousers.  
“No, no, goodness no, it is perfectly fine that you are a virgin. You should
wait until you really have feelings for someone. You are too special to give
yourself away that easily, John, do you understand me?”
“Yeah, yeah okay, ummm, are you a…you know?”
At John’s innocent question, the detective had to stop his ministrations or
this conversation would be over far too quickly. “No, I’ve done it twice,”
well, no really,“both times with the boyfriend I told you about when we first
started chatting.” He watched the boy fidget on the bed, working up the courage
to ask the question that would send them both down a path of no return.
“Was-was it, you know, nice?”
“It is the most amazing and beautiful thing you can do with somebody you care
about John. You are too young to understand and never having done it, but my
God it feels so wonderful.” Over their many days of communication, Sherlock had
come to learn all the different strings his John had and what every single one
did when he pulled it. The youth string was by far the easiest and his favorite
reaction.
“I’m not that young,” the boy said defiantly. Beautifully done Sherlock.
“No, no, I didn’t mean that, it’s just that you’ve never done anything with a
guy before have you? No, so it’s kind of hard to explain to someone who is
inexperienced.”
“Oh,” the boy sounded crushed, giving the older man ample time and opportunity
to swoop in and pick up the pieces.
“How big are you?”
“I’m uhhh, well I’m 5’5 is that what you mean?”
“No,” Sherlock gave a possessive stroke to the black briefs sitting to his
side. “No, I mean your cock? How big is it, you know, when you’re hard and
stuff?” He watched the boy’s reaction on the camera and could have sworn he saw
said cock twitch a bit under his pajama trousers.
“Oh, well I guess I’m about four and a half or five inches when I’m fully…umm
hard. What-I mean how big are you?”
“That’s a really nice size for someone your age John. I’m just about eight
inches uncut…would you like to see it?” The boy stilled on his bed, looking
around the room as if he would get caught. As soon as a shy grin came across
the blushed face, Sherlock knew the answer and prepared to upload the photo he
had already taken.
“Cool! Really, I mean you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” John’s voice was
nervous but the detective could hear the underlying excitement at seeing a
grown man’s penis.
 “No, it’s cool, we’re mates right. I mean you’re not going to show it to
anybody else, yeah?” His question obviously had double intention to ensure the
boy would not show anyone who might offer their third party opinion and ruin
the relationship between the two mates. However, John did not need to know
this, all he needed to know was Sherlock was nervous, so the teenager being the
sweet boy that he was wanted to reassure his mate that this was between them.  
“Oh Jesus, no, no I would never do that Sherlock, you can trust me.”
“I knew I could, okay give me a tick,” the man said as he waited a couple of
minutes to act like he was just now taking the picture, then hit send and
watched the laptop screen intently. The reaction was even better than the
detective could have ever imagined, you never stop surprising me my beautiful
John,The teenager looked at his phone and started rubbing over his own member
under his cotton trousers.
“It’s…wow, it’s beautiful Sherlock, really I mean that,” the man tried to
stifle a chuckle at the breathiness of the youth, who thought no one knew what
he was doing in his room. “It’s ha ha-it’s really big. I mean…wow, ha!”
The man laughed along with John’s bashfulness, “thanks, I try,” he said, adding
in a hint of humor to once again lighten the mood. “You know, I’m that big
right now. Are you…are you hard too?” He laced his voice with uncertainty,
drawing John in like a moth to a flame.
“How could you tell,” the boy laughed and had now put his hand under the
elastic of his trousers rubbing himself in earnest.
“I couldn’t, I just know how much you turn me on-uhmph,” Sherlock couldn’t stop
the groan that escaped his lips so he played it up dramatically to the boy on
the other end of the phone. “I was kind of hoping you feel the same way. If you
don’t that’s cool, I just wanted-“
“Oh hell no, mate, I’m wanking right now, you really can’t hear it?” The
teenager chuckled and then let out a moan to show Sherlock how much he was
enjoying himself.  
“No,” Sherlock matched his strokes to John’s on the video but soon became
frustrated when the boy still had his hand under his clothes, forbidding his
lover to see what was going on underneath. That needs to change.“I’m naked, are
you?”
“No, I just-“ John’s breathing became more labored and Sherlock knew what was
coming next, he needed to work fast.
“You should be, take your trousers and pants off so you can feel me touching
you.” Giving orders was a big step and Sherlock knew it might be too soon, but
the boy was so blissed out right now it just might work. It did, placing the
phone on his heaving chest, John used his free hand to pull down both his pants
and trousers, and then shimmied them down to his ankles, his left hand never
leaving his cock. When he could hear the teen’s breathing come back to the
phone, Sherlock continued, “can you feel me touching you? Your strong chest,
your smooth stomach, your full cock, your beautiful arse?”
“Yeah, I-I can. You feel-“
“Would you let me come in you John?” was the last thing John heard before
Sherlock saw the young body stiffen at his words. At my words,and began slowing
his ministrations, lying like a rag doll on the bed. When the man saw the
effect he had on his sensitive boy, he shot off harder than he’d ever done
before, a loud shout coming from his throat. They both lie motionless together
on their respective surfaces, laughing with each other like lovers would in
their post orgasmic bliss. “Are you okay?”
“Ha, are you kidding me? I’m great but well tired now, thanks for that.” The
boy said laughing again as Sherlock watched him get up to change his clothes.
The detective was quiet while he watched the oblivious boy strip out of his
soiled clothes, searching for a fresh pair long enough for the man to get a
good view of the tight cheeks that would be his soon enough.
“My pleasure John, you’re wearing out this old man. Well, I better go change;
we’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?” Sherlock had no intention of changing out of his
clothes until the morning, after all, waking up with the pleasure John caused
him was becoming his new favorite pastime.
“Definitely! Thank for being cool Sherlock, with me being a…you know.  Well,
good night ‘old man,’” the boy joked, not realizing that the young man he
thought was a college student was actually a thirty-three year old adult.
“You are very welcome. Sleep well John,” the boy hung up and Sherlock added,
“my John,” while he began wiping off his come with the black briefs his John
had given him.  
                             
             
 
 
Chapter End Notes
     I hope you enjoyed or I at least made you feel as icky as I felt when
     writing it. I would love to hear what you thought. Thanks for reading
     (:
***** Give your Heart Away *****
Chapter Summary
     John's POV directly after the events of the last chapter. The
     teenager can't get Sherlock out of his head and comes to a decision
     that could change his life forever.
Chapter Notes
     Hello again everybody, thank you so much for all the comments and
     kudos(: I'm glad to see people are enjoying the darker side of the
     Sherlock Fandom.
     This is a very emotional chapter for John and I think a bit heart
     breaking, you have been warned.
     Please enjoy and I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                       Chapter 5 – Give your Heart Away
When John woke up in the morning he was the happiest he’d been in a long time,
even happier than playing for the high school football team. A warm sensation
was running down his arms and legs, heating him from the inside as he stood up
and stretched. While he was preparing his shower the smile on his face just
wouldn’t come off, no matter how hard he tried, he kept beaming at himself in
the mirror. Is this what love feels like? Whatever it is, I like it!
The water felt perfect on his skin, warming him even more as he let it cascade
down his goose bump filled body.  He stood there for a long minute under the
water, thinking about last night. How kind Sherlock was to him because frankly
he thought the bloke would hang up the moment he told him he was a virgin. John
usually had to lie to his mates on the football team when they talked about who
they bonked the night before. But Sherlock didn’t laugh, no, he was proud of
him for not settling. Although he did talk about John’s inexperience, which
made the teen not so much angry, but jealous that he’d never experienced the
wonderful things his older friend had talked about.  
Before he turned off the tap to get dressed, a brilliant thought passed through
the boy’s head, I wonder if Sherlock would want to have sex with me?But the
thought was short lived when he came to his senses that of course a college
student wouldn’t want to shag a stupid kid like him. Deflated, the boy sighed
getting out of the shower to brush his teeth and get dressed. The smile
returned a second later when he heard the familiar ‘ding’ that meant Sherlock
still wanted to talk to him.
Sherlock: How r u feeling this morning?
John: Great, r u ok?
Sherlock: I am wonderful. I’ve never felt this great b4(:
John actually giggled at the thought of that pale face with dark brown waves
covering his eyes. He pulled on his grey pants, jeans, and red shirt before he
texted back.
John: Awesome, I was a bit worried u wouldn't want to talk after last night
Sherlock: WHAT?! In the name of heaven y not?
John: IDK I don’t know what I’m doing and I’m not very good at any of this
Sherlock: John, we all have to learn sometime and it is my honor to show u how
to feel good…really good. LOL.
John: Thanks mate, ur the best!
Sherlock: I know. Now go to school (:
John: Yes Sir :D
The teen wasn't sure what was happening to his body or mind during school. The
professors’ voices echoed in the background but all he could focus on was
hearing Sherlock tell him how beautiful he was, how he wanted to touch his
chest and stomach, he’d even asked to come in him. Suddenly, John felt his
pants get very uncomfortable very quick. Oh shite!Just thinking about the
gorgeous college student kissing him made John almost come right in his
trousers in the middle of class.
Stop thinking about it John.‘Take your clothes off so you can feel me touching
you.’ Quit thinking about it!‘Can you feel me touching your strong chest?’ Oh
shite, oh shite!‘Would you let me come in you John?’ The boy was gripping his
desk so tightly that his knuckles had turned white, when finally the bell rang
for the class to be over. Oh thank God!None to gracefully, the student grabbed
his stuff, carrying it in front of him to cover his arousal and ran into the
bathroom panting and sweating.
Finally in the stall, he took himself in hand and within three quick strokes he
came into the toilet with Sherlock’s name on his lips and wondering what it
would feel like to actually have his mate come inside him. In his mind he
pictured sex to be amazing and feeling like bliss but he’d seen a few porn
clips on the internet where the person on bottom was screaming, making him a
bit nervous of the pain involved. However, his mind quickly turned those
negative thoughts off because Sherlock was the kindest bloke he’d ever met and
would never hurt him.
Once he caught his breath and cleaned himself up, John headed off to the lunch
room debating whether he should tell Sherlock what happened to him. He knew he
would probably laugh but that was fine and he really didn’t want to tell
anybody else, not even Mike.  
John: Ur such a twat
Sherlock: Y? What happened?
John: U made me almost come in my pants at school :P
Sherlock: LOL! What where u thinking about?
John: Our convo last night and then BAM!
Sherlock: It happens to the best of us. Did u make it to the loo in time?
John: Yea, I had 2 run but I made it…u arse. LOL.
Sherlock: Glad I could help :D
Sherlock: Would U want to do it again 2nite?
John: God yes!
John: I mean, if u want 2 too. We don’t have to if u don’t.
Sherlock: Will u stop that! Of course I want to. I’m already hard thinking
about u John.
John: Cool, well don’t come in class, yeah? I’ll ttyl
The rest of the day was a blur and to be completely honest it scared John half
to death, he’d never felt this way before in his whole young life. He had heard
his mother talk about something called infatuation and it was obviously
different from real love when she described it, but now he couldn’t tell. Maybe
that means it’s love?Deciding this was too serious to handle on his own, the
teen wanted to ask for advice, after all asking for help is a grown-up thing to
do, right?
After he finished his homework, John made some canned soup and garlic bread
then waited for his mom to get home from work. “Well I’ll be, what’s this for,
Johnny?” She smiled as she walked in the door and set her stuff down on the
chair.
“Nothing, I just wanted to cook for us and soup sounded good. I kind of ruined
the first batch though because the milk curdled but this one should be fine.”
The boy smiled, embarrassed at his stupidity but knew she would find out anyway
and thought it was best to get it out in the open.
Thankfully, she laughed and sat down across from her son, making ‘yum’ sounds
as she smelled the garlic bread. “That’s alright, love, this smells delicious.
So how was your day at school?”
I almost came in my pants thinking about a college guy coming in my arse. How
was your day?“It was alright,” John decided on the short version, “how was your
day?” He knew that was a bad question to ask the moment he said it, realizing
his mother would take up the entire dinner time talking about new gossip at her
work.
Ten minutes later, she finished her story about how she was positive Kim the
secretary had an eating disorder because no woman with three kids could be that
skinny. “Umm, mum, can I ask you a question?” John was finally able to get a
word in before she started back up.
“Of course, what’s on your mind?”
He played with the crumbs on his plate for a moment, trying to form the
question in his mind. She already knew he didn’t care much for girls but they
had never talked about boyfriends or any sex other than with a girl because she
didn’t want him ‘knocking someone up’ as she so gracefully put it. “Well,
there’s this guy that I like, really like, and it’s kind of freaking me out
because all I can think about is him and nothing else. Is that bad?” The words
just spewed out of the teen’s mouth before they could even pass through a
filter.
“Oh Johnny, you’re growing up, love. It’s normal to have those kinds of
feelings for a boy or girl. I remember when I met your father; all I could
think about was holding his hand and kissing him. I day dreamed so much I even
failed my chemistry class that year,” she smiled fondly, reminiscing about the
man who died six years ago. “But that is not acceptable for you John, do you
understand me? It is completely normal for you to be attracted to someone but I
will not allow your grades to suffer from this, not like I did when I was your
age.” She wagged her finger at him.
John felt a weight lift off his shoulders when his mother said the same thing
happened to her and the fact she ended up marrying the man she couldn't stop
thinking about was just icing on the cake. “Oh, don’t worry mum, he’s really
smart and helps me with my homework. I think I might even pass math this year.”
“That’s wonderful Johnny, now you go finish up that homework and I’ll clean up
here, yeah?” Having spent quality time with her son, she now focused all her
attention on her mobile as she began to clean up the table.
“Okay, thanks mum, love ya!” With that, the boy kissed his mom on the cheek and
ran upstairs more confident than ever. He jumped on his bed and started texting
Sherlock.
John: Hey, u there?
Sherlock: Yep, wats up?
He loved how quickly Sherlock always responded to his texts, like he dropped
everything just so he could talk to John. Hell, who doesn’t like feeling
important?
John: Nothing just made some soup and garlic bread for me n my mum
Sherlock: Nice, was it good?
John: It was alright, I curdled the first batch. LOL.
Sherlock: Ha! It happens. U up for talking?
John: Yea, u wanna call again or should I?
Instead of another text, his mobile rang displaying Sherlock’s name on the
screen. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves, why am I so nervous around
him?and then answered the phone. “Hey,” the teenager’s voice cracked slightly
and he hit his forehead with the palm of his hand in frustration at himself.
“Hello, John! So how was school today, other than you getting a hard on during
class,” the deep voice on the other end of the phone chuckled slightly but John
could sense he wasn’t being made fun of.
“That was so messed up, mate. That’s never happened to me before, well, I mean
I’ve had erections before in class but I can usually calm myself down enough so
I don’t have to shoot off in the toilet,” John was shocked at the confession
that slipped from his mouth. He wasn’t sure if he was just getting more
comfortable with Sherlock or perhaps this was what happens now that he’s
getting older and more confident with himself.
“Orgasm control comes with experience but I’ll tell you what mate, there are
sometime you just can’t help it. I’ve been that way recently.”
“You have? Why?” John had the slightest feeling it was because of him, but the
logical side of his mind said he was just being a stupid git.
“Oh John, why don’t you ever believe me when I tell you that you’re beautiful
and I love more than I've ever loved anybody in the world.”
John paused, shocked at the man’s confession of love. He racked his brain
trying to remember if Sherlock had ever said that before but he came up empty.
“You’ve never said that…that you loved me.”
“Well I do John. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I wish I
could show you how much you are cherished, then you would know, then you would
understand.”
The man’s voice was so passionate, so smooth that it normally made John feel
light headed, but when those words came from him, the teen felt like he had
lifted off the bed and was floating in a warm cloud. No one, besides his mother
of course, had ever said they loved him and he knew that Sherlock was telling
the truth, he could hear it in his voice. This was not infatuation, this was
real and John was falling into this head first, he loved it. “Are you still
there, John?”
“Oh yeah, uhh, sorry I just…do you really mean that because if you don’t that’s
cool, I get it-“
“John,” the velvety voice stopped his rambling, “take your trousers and pants
off.” Without thinking, the boy did as his boyfriend?asked and shimmied out of
his clothes.
“Okay, now what?” He felt a little funny and exposed sitting half naked on his
bed with his mother preparing herself for sleep a few rooms over.
“Do you know how hard I am for you right now? Just thinking about kissing you
makes me-ugphm” he head a moan from the other side of the phone and felt his
cock twitch a little on his belly, knowing that he caused that sound. “Are you
hard, John? Please tell me you are.”
He rapidly began stroking himself, not wanting to fall behind, until he was
fully hard and panting slightly. “Yeah, yeah I am. I-I wish you were here with
me Sherlock,” John stopped his ministrations at the comment, hoping his lust
filled mind hadn’t gone too far. He knew he was bad at ‘dirty talk’; he had
even taken a quiz in one of his mom’s magazine that told him so.
“I wish I was too, John. Do you know what I’d do to you?”
John had a guess but was nowhere near bold enough to assume, “what?”
“I would take care of you.”
He hadn't expected that, not in a million years, but then he kicked himself for
putting Sherlock into a stereotypical box of careless lovers he saw in the
movies and porn.
“I would open you up so slowly and make you beg for me. I would hold you tight
and kiss you until you fell asleep in my arms. I want to taste your cock and
your come in my mouth, oh I wish I could see how hard you are now for me John.”
The man moaned, causing John to almost lose control.
The boy didn't know what to say, everything Sherlock had said was focused on
him, taking care of him, loving him. John didn’t know what he was supposed to
do for the man who talked so sweetly to him. Suddenly, an idea popped in his
head and he mumbled a quick, “hold on” over the phone. He pulled up the camera
on his mobile and focused the lens on his hard member and took the photo. It
didn’t turn out exactly how he wanted but he captured from the tip to his balls
so it would have to do. Plus, while he was taking the picture he could hear
Sherlock panting and his hands were tied up so he couldn’t wank along with him.
He hit send and waited for himself to be judged by the only person whose
opinion he cared about.
“Oh God John!” he heard a shout from the end of the phone and he smiled at the
approval in the man’s voice. “You are so beautiful, I would eat all of you in
one bit,” the deep voice grunted and John knew he had come looking at the
picture of his cock. “Come for me John.”
“I’m almost there, fuck,” he whispered, not wanting to wake his mom, until
finally he felt his cock twitch in his hand and warm splotches on his stomach.
I’ve got to remember to take my shirt off next time.He took a deep breath, then
smiled at the sound of harsh breaths coming from the other end of the phone.
“Okay?”
“More than okay John. You are so perfect, do you know that?”
“You keep saying that,” John laughed trying to disrupt the intense feelings
boiling inside him.
“And I mean it.”
At those words, John knew exactly who he was and what he wanted to do. No more
self-conscious kid stuff, no more kidding around, no more being scared, he
wanted this, no he needed this. “Hey Sherlock?”
“Yes?”
“Just say no if you don’t want to…but, umm, would you maybe like to meet up
this weekend and you know…hangout, like get a cup of coffee or something?”
There was a long pause on the other end of the phone that made a dark cloud
come over the boy’s confident façade. “If-“
“I would love that John,” the deep voice sounded pleased.
“Okay, awesome…yeah, great! Well, we can talk about it more tomorrow on Friday,
yeah?”
“Talk to you tomorrow John, I love you.”
“Good night…I love you too,” the boy said and meant every word.   
 
Chapter End Notes
     Just an fyi, the next chapter will be Sherlock's POV when they meet.
     Then, John's will be when they "meet" (if you catch my meaning).
     However, I am debating whether I should write a parallel chapter for
     the "meet" with Sherlock's POV as well. I think it will be
     interesting to see the contrast in their perceptions of the sexual
     encounter, so I will most likely add that extra chapter before the
     ending.
     Also, I hope they use bells in UK schools but if they don't I would
     love to know what the use and I will change it(:
***** Act Nice and Gentle *****
Chapter Summary
     Sherlock and John meet in person for the first time.
Chapter Notes
     Hello! Thank you again for all the wonderful comments I've received
     for this fic, they definitely keep me motivated(:
     This was the first chapter of the story I had trouble writing. I
     think it turned out well though, and pretty realistic based on the
     last chapter and how much John has become emotionally invested in
     Sherlock.
     Please enjoy(: and feel free to comment below.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                        Chapter 6 – Act Nice and Gentle
Friday
Sherlock knew he had already won over John’s heart and body but know he
possessed the boy’s mind as well. He was truly ‘his’ John now and that simple
fact made the man harder than a rock just thinking about his complete and utter
possession of the most beautiful thing in the world. The boy had not only sent
him a picture of the most gorgeous young cock without him even asking but he
had also decided they should meet all on his own. This was it, the final act in
the play the detective had written for the two lovers and it would earn a
standing ovation.  
He was still sitting on the couch from the night before with his white release
staining his shirt and John’s pants. Sherlock brought them up to his nose and
cherished how his scent and his boys were now mingled together on the piece of
material. Oh, it’s show time!The laptop screen showed John getting into the
shower, oblivious to the cameras his lover had installed the day before. “Good
morning John,” he whispered caressing the small naked body on the screen.
He slowly began working himself into hardness but stopped when he saw the boy
duck his head, leaning on the shower wall. “What are you thinking? Of me? What
you want me to do to you when we meet? Oh I promise John, it will be a night
you will never forget, so don’t you worry. Sherlock will take care of
everything.” His cock twitched at the thought of being inside the boy’s mind,
he had the power to make John almost come in his pants even when he was in a
different city. He would make his boy tell him everything they did together in
his young imagination, what made him squeal and moan.
When John started washing himself again, Sherlock could see himself in there
with him; standing behind the boy, looming over him to wash the soft blonde
hair, rubbing soap into his skin and working his slippery hands down to the
small cock, rubbing him slowly to hardness. Instead of wanking his cock,
Sherlock was pressing himself up against John’s back, rutting along the crease
of his cheeks, making the boy beg for him to enter. “Not yet,” Sherlock
whispered to the scene going on in his mind as he sped up his hand on what he
saw as John’s hard member. He lowered his hips slightly so his cock pressed on
the underside of his boy’s arse and rocked up, splitting the cheeks with his
own hardness. John chanted ‘I love you’ over and over again as Sherlock came
over the tan back and the boy shot himself on the tile shower wall.
“I love you, John. Just one more day and you will have me and I you.” The
detective’s body was shaking as he came down from his orgasm. He noted the
amount of semen he had been producing during his time spent with John was
significantly larger than normal, which indicated his arousal for his boy had
increased now that he was his.
When he finally pulled himself down from the blissful high, he grabbed his
mobile to plan their meeting now that John was out of the shower and getting
dressed.
Sherlock: Good Morning(:
John: Morning, did u sleep well?
Sherlock: Yes, thank u. u?
John: The best thanks.
He debated bringing up last night’s conversation first, but after John’s
pensiveness in the shower, Sherlock decided it was best to nip any second
thoughts in the bud.
Sherlock: So did u still want to meet this weekend?
There was a long pause, bringing the first shadow of doubt into the detectives
mind. However, if the boy did say no, it just meant the hunt would continue and
increase the anticipation of having John.
John: Yes, I would like that. What did u want to do?
Sherlock: Well, I was thinking, if you want I can drive down and pick u up and
take u 2 c my Uni.
John: Ummm, that’s a bit far…
Sherlock: We don’t have to if u don’t want 2. I just thought if I drove that
much 2 c u it would b cool to show u my school. No worries tho.
Watching his phone for a response, Sherlock went over all the scenarios in his
mind. Noting every outcome and possibility of what John would do and getting
the teen away from Southampton was by far the best way to go with the plan. If
John needed a little push or guilt trip, that’s what the detective would do,
even if he had to call him.
John: No, I do want to c u and ur school. I don’t know what I’d tell my mom
tho. I don’t think she would like me going to London for the weekend.
Sherlock: I understand but we’d only be going to c a movie or getting coffee
and plus maybe we can talk to admissions and scholarships at Uni for u.
Sherlock: I bet ur mom would appreciate the initiative ur showing to go look at
colleges, yeah?
Sherlock kicked himself for starting this conversation over text, he should’ve
waited until the boy left the house so they could talk about their meeting. He
had underestimated John’s wanting to follow the rules and it might come back to
bite him in the arse.    
John: No, ur right. She always worries about paying for my schooling ): and if
I could get an early start on scholarships that would definitely help.
Sherlock: If u want, I can pick some applications up at Uni so we can fill them
out together when u come up to London.
Using his drive and caring nature to the advantage. Check and mate.
  John: Really?! That would b great!
Sherlock: Totally, and u could surprise ur mom when u get back on Sunday(;
Sherlock: Moms love that kind of stuff, yeah?
John: Yeah, ur right about that. She still raves about that stupid garlic bread
I made her last night. LOL.
Sherlock: C. We can kill 2 birds with 1 stone. We can finally meet and hang out
and u can work on getting ready for Uni. Perfect!
John: Yeah, let me talk to Mike. I’ll tell my mum I’m sleeping over at his
house for the weekend(:
Sherlock: Great idea(: I can pick u up at the WestQuay tomorrow at 10am. That
sound good?
John: Cool. This is great, my mum is going to be so happy if I can get those
scholarship!
Sherlock: No worries, I’ll get u hooked up mate.
John: Thanks a lot Sherlock. I’ll c u 2morrow.
When he put down his phone, Sherlock licked his lips and grinned wildly down at
the picture of John’s cock, knowing that tomorrow it would be in his mouth. He
pulled the computer onto his lap and began researching The London Metropolitan
University scholarships to print out. After five minutes, the detective had a
stack bigger than ‘War and Peace’ sitting beside the printer. “That should be
enough,” he smiled to himself happily, knowing that him and John would start to
fill them out at the coffee shop down the road but then his boy would become
tired and they would have to come back to his flat to finish. However, they
were all valid scholarships he knew would benefit the teenager, after all only
the best would do for his John.
After he had completed the research, Sherlock strode off to clean up his flat,
checked to make sure there was still plenty of lube in his bedside table, and
actually made his bed, trying to make it look as clean and neat as John’s room
had been. When he opened the fridge, a groan came from his throat as he
realized he didn’t have any food or beer to feed the teenage boy.
He threw on his coat and for the first time in a month, made his way to the
store. Pushing the trolley down the aisles, he threw in some cans of soup and
scones that were already made from the bakery. Next, he picked out a nice
bottle of merlot with high alcohol content and a six pack of Newcastle Ale, not
sure which the boy would prefer and he assumed whatever was left over he would
give to Lestrade as a bribe for another case. He made his way through the queue
and finally got home by the time it was dark.
After much debating, Sherlock decided it was best to only text John that night
instead of call. He wanted the teenagers imagination to run wild at all the
things they would do together and the detective knew he had conditioned John
enough that the boy would only think of the good things, never negative
scenarios like the possibility that the man he was about to meet was ten years
older than he said. His boy was too trusting for any of that kind of nonsense
and the detective was far too clever to ever put that seed of doubt anywhere
near his mind. “Yes, when I come to pick you up tomorrow my dear John, you
won’t run, you won’t be frightened. No, you will hug me and let me hold your
hand, just like you were meant to do all along. Because you love me.”
Sherlock: Good night John.
John: Good night, love u(:
Sherlock: I love you 2. C u tomorrow.
Sherlock normally groaned when he woke up in the morning, taking at least an
hour to get out of bed, but today was different, much different. The detective
had put away all the pictures he kept of John, dressed in a button up striped
shirt, leaving it untucked to appear younger, pulled on some dark faded jeans,
combed his hair, and even brushed his teeth, all before John even got into the
shower on the camera.
Jumping in the BMW he rented for the weekend, it wouldn’t do to have some
cabbie listen in on our conversation, now would it John?he, made sure to burn
three CDs with Muse, Pink Floyd, and The Black Keys songs, which Facebook had
indicated were John’s three favorite bands. They would help, just in case of an
awkward silence when John was mulling over the fact he was in a car with a
thirty-three year old, the familiar music would help calm him.
The drive was rather pleasant once he got out of London and the thoughts of
seeing his John’s face kept the raging war in his mind calm. He pulled up to
the front of the shopping Centre and didn’t even try to hide the moan that
escaped his lips. He checked his phone.
John: I’m at the Starbucks. Let me know when u get here.
“Ahhh, early as I expected, you must be eager indeed John,” he chuckled.
Sherlock: Just pulled up. Do u want me to come inside or u just want to come
out so we can hit the road and get to Uni quicker?
John: Yea, I can come out n meet u. I haven’t ordered yet. Wat u driving?
Sherlock: Charcoal BMW, sedan. Just outside the west entrance. Hurry bc they
want me to pay parking. LOL.
John: On my way(:   
Sherlock ignored the fact he was not in a pickup zone and waited patiently for
John to come right to him. Suddenly, he saw a crop of blonde hair through the
glass doors, then the smiling boy holding a longboard and backpack came running
out of the building towards his car waving. Sherlock waved back and honked the
horn once to let the boy know he had the right car. Without looking any
further, John opened up the backdoor to toss his bag and board in, shut it, and
then hopped into the front seat. The detective hit the gas and drove away from
the Centre as the boy hurriedly put his seatbelt on.
“How are you? I hope you didn’t have to wait too long, John?” Sherlock started
right in on mild conversation, making sure to act completely calm, indicating
that he thought everything was fine.
“No, not at-“ John finally looked up at the face of his best mate, who looked
like the Sherlock from the picture, but much much older. “Wait, umm, I don’t
understand. How-how old are you Sherlock?” The boy was becoming agitated but
the detective had expected this and knew exactly how to extinguish the flames.
“I’m thirty, John,” what does three years matter, right? Thirty sounds much
better than thirty-three.
“Why did you lie to me? I think you should let me out now, please.”
“John, please just let me explain, okay. Hold on, yeah?” Sherlock pulled off
into a store parking lot, giving the boy the illusion of security. Before John
could reach for the door handle, the detective took his hand gently in his
larger ones. “See, this is what I was worried about and why I wanted to wait
and tell you in person, John. I was hoping you were old enough to understand
that age has nothing to do with friendship or love. You’ve seen actors and
actresses marry people thirty years younger than them, right? You’ve seen the
elderly befriend children in elementary school, yeah? I hope I didn’t make a
mistake placing my love and trust in you, John.”
There it is, good boy.Sherlock watched deep blue eyes dart back and forth, his
thoughts and feelings battling against one another. The detective looked hurt
at the boy’s hesitation and slowly began to remove his hand from John’s. He
waited for the hand to reach back for his and when it came, his mind exploded
with ecstasy, better than any hit of cocaine he’d ever taken.
“No, I don’t care about age, Sherlock. I just…I just don’t like that you lied
to me, how-how do I know you’re not lying about everything else?” John hung
tight to the man’s hand but lowered his head, his heart about to break if
Sherlock didn’t confirm and reciprocate his love.
“I meant every word I ever said to you. Let me show you how much I care for
you, how much I love you John. Please, let me make it up to you for being a
stupid git, I misjudged how mature your were and I…well I was just so scared of
losing you.” Sherlock brought the small tan hand up to his lips and kissed the
soft knuckles, watching in pleasure at how the boy’s cheeks turned pink. Mine.
He inhaled deeply, pinpointing the soap he had smelled in the shower and dirt
from holding the longboard. The look in John’s eyes told him his excuse was
accepted and it was time to lighten the mood. “What kind of longboard is that?
Landyachtz?” Of course it’s not it’s Sector 9.
“Uhhh, oh no it’s Sector 9 but I bought the wheels separate and installed them
myself. They’re Abec 11’s, but I really wanted green instead of orange but they
didn’t have any at the shop.” Sherlock had pulled out of the parking lot and
started driving towards London, while John told him all about his longboard,
how he wish he had a Penny board too, and the time he broke his wrist and two
ribs when he tried to grind down the stairs at school.
By the time they were ten minutes away from Baker Street, John was so excited
to be in London it appeared he had completely forgotten who he was sitting in
the car with. Sherlock knew he was good but John’s trusting nature surprised
even him. He had worked three weeks for this moment and the look in his boy’s
eyes, the trust, the love he felt beaming off of John was enough to make his
frantic mind melt into jelly. Knowing that John did not get out of the car as
soon as he saw the man who he’d come to know, was the closest thing to Heaven
Sherlock could ever imagine.
“You want to stop at the coffee shop? I brought the scholarship papers so we
can fill them out together.”
“Oh, wow, you actually went to the college and picked them up for me?
That’s…wow, thank you! Yeah, I could really use a coffee, too. “
“Great,” Sherlock mimicked the boy’s eagerness and pulled in front of the
coffee shop. They walked in together, John embarrassed when Sherlock insisted
on buying for him, but took the latte with a shy “thank you.” The detective
used the excuse of filling out the applications to sit right next to his boy,
close enough so their thighs were touching. The teenage youthful lust would
soon get the better of him, Sherlock knew, and the hunger that played in his
head would soon fill John’s as well.
They made it through a third of the stack when John finished his coffee, with
pink cheeks that were either from the heat of his drink or the heat he was
feeling in his loins. I know which one, my naughty boy.Sherlock, however,
ignored him, continuing looking over the papers, waiting for John to make the
decision to go down the rabbit hole. Because that was the high, wasn’t it? To
be behind the scenes so that when the play ends, the crowd and actors won’t
even know you were the one who made the scenes happen. If he did it right,
which he always did, John would think everything that happened tonight was all
his idea and desire and that was winning the great game.  
“I really appreciate you finding all these for me, Sherlock. My mom is going to
be thrilled if I get accepted and she doesn’t have to pay a thing. This is kind
of a lot though, we might be here until midnight,” John laughed nervously,
rubbing his palms over his thighs.
The man took a sip of his coffee, “oh, I don’t mind. It’s up to you though,
what would you like to do John? We can stay here and finish up or if you’d like
we can go back to my flat and finish up there. I think I have some food there
if you’re hungry or there’s a Chinese restaurant down the street we can order
from.”
“Ummm, yeah, I guess it would be a lot more comfortable at your place than
having the baristas stare at us because we only ordered one coffee,” he laughed
again, rubbing his neck in a nervous tick.
“Baristas?! Oh, please John, they make coffee at a chain store and do not
deserve such a cool title.” God bless sarcasm.
“That’s true, it is a pretty awesome job title,” they both stood up and
Sherlock grabbed the papers off the table to place in front of the erection he
had been sporting ever since their thighs touched.  
“I’m only a few blocks down the street, get in,” Sherlock commanded, pulling
the last string to make the boy’s foot get into the car, and he was rewarded
with watching the smiling boy’s head disappear under his eye line of the top of
the car and into the front seat. It took five minutes to get to the flat, but
they sang ‘Another Brick in the Wall,’ from one of the CDs all the way there.
     
Chapter End Notes
     If you have been to WestQuay in Southampton I do apologize for the
     inaccuracy in my portrayal of the layout. I based my facts off of
     their website and Google Maps and tweaked it a tiny bit to fit the
     story, so I'm sorry if it was confusing.
     If you have never been to WestQuay, then my description is spot on
     and you can ignore the sentences above this one. LOL.
***** When the Lights Go Out *****
Chapter Summary
     John's POV directly after the last chapter.
Chapter Notes
     NOTICE: This Chapter has been updated due to the fact I had no idea
     14 year olds could drink in their homes in the UK. One of my amazing
     readers let me know, so I thought it was important and small enough
     to change easily. Only one paragraph has changed so if you've already
     read it, you're not missing anything new, except Britain is awesome(:
     Hello! Thank you again for all the lovely and thoughtful comments
     I've received. It's crazy to think I almost stopped after the first
     chapter but now I'm swimming in kudos and comments. LOL.
     IMPORTANT PLEASE READ
     Okay, so this is it guys. John's POV of his first sexual encounter
     with Sherlock. It is not as bad as I originally thought it was going
     to be, but by the end it is gets pretty intense. So please, PLEASE,
     look at the updated tags and know that this is dub-con verging on
     rape because John is a minor and unsure. If you are easily triggered
     by these things, DO NOT READ. I do not wish to upset or trigger
     somebody inadvertently, so just be aware of what you are getting
     into.
     I hope you enjoy and I would really love to hear your thoughts on
     this update(:
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                      Chapter 7 – When the Lights Go Out
“Would you like some tea or I think I have some Coke if you’d prefer?”
Sherlock’s voice called from the kitchen. John was sitting on the man’s couch,
his knee bouncing up and down with nerves as he looked through the papers
strewn out across the coffee table. Nothing had happened and he was fine; the
boy kept telling himself this every time a horrible thought crept into his
head. Although Sherlock had lied to him and was in fact thirty instead of
twenty-two, the man was just like the ‘Sherlock’ he had come to know over the
past weeks. Just older, a lot older.
“Ummm, yeah a Coke sounds great,” the teenager shouted back, kicking himself
when his voice cracked.
“Oh wait, I have some Newcastle, too. Have you ever tried it?” Sherlock came in
with two open bottles of the ale, handing one two John with a kind smile.
“Well, thanks but mum says I’m too young still. Like, kids make stupid
decisions already and don’t need beer to help ‘em out, or something like that.”
When the words escaped his lips, the boy felt a giant weight fall onto his
shoulders. “I-I should probably-“
“What are you talking about? It’s not like you’re going out driving or walking
out in public for the rest of the night. Drinking’s not a big deal, John, you
and I drinking one is going to have the same effect on both of us, age has
nothing to do with it.”
The boy lowered his head in embarrassment, bringing pink to his cheeks at the
realization that he was acting like a scared kid. Sherlock was only trying to
make him feel comfortable, so John decided he would only drink a little until
he knew how the beer would affect him. “No, that makes since. Thank you,
this…umm, well this is my first beer. Actually no, I accidentally took a sip of
my mom’s once ‘cause I thought it was Root Beer, but I spit it out before I
swallowed it.” Quit talking so much,he yelled at himself for rambling and took
the bottle.
“Well then,” Sherlock raised his bottle, clinking it against John’s, “to new
mates and new experiences.”
“Cheers,” the boy smiled and took a long sip of the dark brown ale. He tried
hard not to scrunch up his nose at the bitter taste, but he failed miserably
causing the other man to giggle at him. “It’s not bad, I guess but I don’t see
how people can drink this one with dinners and stuff.”
The man sat down next to him, touching their thighs and shoulders together.
“Well there are hundreds if not thousands of beers around the world for you to
try. That’s what’s cool about trying new things and having as many experiences
as you can, yeah? Well, I don’t…that’s what I think at least.”
“Yeah, I totally agree with you mate! That’s why I was so excited when we
talked about these scholarships. Uni will be awesome, I just know it!” John
took another sip of the beer and set it down on the table, focusing his
attention back on the papers and trying hard not to think about how warm
Sherlock’s leg was against his. The two sat on the couch filling out the forms
quietly, but the teen just couldn’t stop his mind from running around in
circles. “Can I use the loo?”
“Yeah, of course, it’s right over there,” the older man smiled, “that beer will
do that to ya, yeah?”
“Yeah, right,” when John got into the bathroom his breathe was already starting
to come too fast. He had no idea what was going on inside of him, his mind was
telling him Sherlock was wrong for lying to him and this was not a safe
situation; however, he had been fighting an erection ever since he felt
Sherlock’s thigh touch him in the coffee shop. Now that he was in the man’s
flat, which seemed normal just like its owner, he felt safe but terrified at
the same time. How can you feel two complete opposite emotions at the same
time? What is wrong with you John Watson?
He started laying out the facts he had gathered since they met at WestQuay,
trying to make since of the last few hours. Sherlock had lied, yes. Why?
Because he thought I would be too big of a baby and not understand how two
people a measly sixteen years apart could be friends. He drove almost an hour
and a half to see me. He bought me coffee. He printed out almost twenty Uni
applications. Made me dinner. Gave me a beer. Sherlock is just trying to treat
me like an adult because I am adult. I’m in high school for Christ’s sake.
Plus, every time I hear him say my name I feel like my body is going to fucking
melt.
“John? John, are you okay in there?” That deep voice that sent shivers down his
spine called from outside the bathroom door.
“Yeah, sorry, I’ll just be a minute,” the boy yelled and flushed the toilet and
turned on the tap to wash his hands even though he hadn’t done anything. When
he stepped out, Sherlock was standing just outside the door and John hadn’t
realized how tall the man was until they were standing face to face, well more
like face to chest. The man put a warm hand on his shoulder, leading him back
to the couch.
“Are you alright? Was it the soup I made?”
“Ha! No, it was delicious, I was just…never mind, I’m fine let’s get back to
the applications, yeah?” John tried to change the subject quickly, not wanting
Sherlock to know he was questioning their friendship.
“John, look at me,” the man grabbed his chin to tilt John’s gaze to meet his.
As soon as his eyes met the two silver orbs, the teen knew Sherlock loved him.
Their attention was focused solely on him, John Hamish Watson, and for the life
of him, the boy couldn’t figure out why this gorgeous mature adult would want
anything to do with him. “Please tell me what’s wrong. We’re mate, best mates,
and I want you to know you can tell me anything.”
Embarrassed again, the teenager tried to pull away from the intense gaze of his
friend, but the hold on his chin didn’t loosen. He saw something else while
staring in those bright eyes, lust and…something else, something John couldn’t
quite put his finger on, but it made all the blood in his brain go down to his
lower regions. “I-I just don’t know what I’m feeling…no I don’t mean that I
just-ugh, I’m sorry.” If he couldn’t even get the situation straight in his
head, he knew there was no way he would be able to articulate his feelings to
Sherlock. All the boy could do was close his eyes and pray that the only person
who had ever taken this much interest in him wouldn’t drive him back to his
home in Southampton and never call again.
 “I understand John, it’s okay to be nervous in new situations. Quite honestly,
I’m a bit shaken too.” The man whispered, looking down and letting go of the
chin in his grasp.
What?Relief washed over him, calming almost every single nerve in his body,
just from those few words. He was not alone and whatever was battling between
his mind and body, Sherlock was going through it too. “You are? But this isn’t
your first time? I’ve never even…”
“With you it is. John, for some reason being around you is different than the
other men I’ve been with. You are so young and vibrant and just so much wiser
beyond your years…you’re perfect John. I just wish I could make you see that.”
He had heard a few of those words to describe him before, but he never really
believed the person because it was usually just a family member that had to say
it. This, however, was coming from a man who had no strings attached, could
just get up and walk away if he didn’t like the boy, and he was telling John
flat out that he was perfect. Suddenly an unstoppable giggle came from his lips
and he quickly turned cherry red, turning his head and covering his face.
“No don’t hide, you’re adorable when you’re embarrassed,” Sherlock laughed,
pulling John’s hands away from his face and holding them gently in one big
hand. He saw the man’s other hand come up to his cheeks and as soon as the warm
hand made contact, John let out a sigh from deep in his throat. A smile came
across his face, amazed at how gentle such large hands could be.
Suddenly, he stiffened when Sherlock’s face started moving closer while the
hand on his cheek kept him from pulling back. His lips grazed over John’s
lightly and they both let out a small moan at the contact. He had kissed a girl
once before but hated it when she jabbed her tongue in his mouth, causing her
thick make up to smear all over his face. This, however, was so gentle and the
hand on his face was comforting, making the boy want to stay in this position
forever.
After a few ghosting touches, Sherlock deepened the kiss, giving the smaller
closed lips a few licks with his tongue. Only confused on what to do for a
second, John realized he was supposed to open his mouth and do the same things
the more experienced man was doing to him. He parted his lips and before he
could reciprocate, Sherlock’s larger tongue eased into his mouth, grazing under
his tongue and up to the roof of his mouth. It didn’t just feel nice, John
decided, it felt wonderful to have the man kissing him so sweetly and the soft
moans coming from the other mouth were gorgeous.
As soon as the boy began to relax enough to participate, he felt the hand move
from his face to his shoulder and slowly push him to lie down on to the couch.
His body became rigid, unsure about having such a large body on top of him,
until Sherlock moved from kissing his mouth to ghosting down his tanned throat.
“Shhh, trust me,” the deep voice whispered in his ear, making the boy jolt with
pleasure when he nibbled on the sensitive skin between his hair line and ear.
With a bit more pressure from above, John laid down on his back because he did
trust that the man above him would never hurt him.
He knew he made the right decision when Sherlock didn’t put any weight on the
him, just placed one knee in between his open legs with the other by his hip
and began tracing the small swollen lips with his tongue. Surprisingly, John
didn’t feel trapped at all and even if he was, the feeling in his groin
wouldn’t want him to try run away.
John got more confident with kissing the older man so much that the hands that
had been lying limp at his side decided to reach up and cradle Sherlock’s ribs.
The heat radiating from the core to his palms was incredible, so while keeping
one hand still, he moved the other up to the man’s chest to feel how fast his
heart was beating. Sherlock broke their kiss with a smile, placing the hand
that was by John’s head over to the small panting chest below him. The boy
grinned because he knew his heart was beating just as fast Sherlock’s and once
again, he was not alone in his excitement.
Slowly, the thin but tall body above him lowered down so John could feel the
other man’s heart through his chest now. He was amazed at how being squashed
between Sherlock and the couch didn’t feel uncomfortable, especially when the
hips above him slightly twitch, providing amazing friction for his aching cock.
“Feels good doesn’t it?” Sherlock grinned, pulling his head back to look at
John, who nodded shyly. No matter how fantastic it felt, there was no getting
around the awkward feeling in his head that he was actually rubbing up against
man for the first time in his life. “You can trust me, John, I won’t hurt you
Ever.”
“I trust you,” came the small voice and John wanted to bang his head on the
wall for not being able to control something as simple as his voice. He was
brought out of his self-depreciation by a sharp thrust from above, shooting
pleasure all the way from his cock to the tip of his head.
“What have I told you about thinking bad about yourself?” Sherlock chided,
slowly increasing the speed of his hips as they rubbed over the boy’s jeans.
This statement brought a wide eyed look from the teenager and John felt like
he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “You are beautiful,” he gave
a small nip to the boys ear and rocked his hips, “and smart,” another bite and
rock, “and strong,” and again, “and I love you more than anything in this
world!”
He didn’t know if it was the friction Sherlock was creating or the conviction
with which the man whispered those praises into John’s ear, but the boy’s hips
stuttered and then stilled as he came in his jeans. Without thinking he tried
to push away from Sherlock, horrified at his lack of control. “Oh my God, I’m
so sorry, I didn’t mean to-“the boy spat out, but couldn’t get up with two
large hands on his shoulders. Sherlock’s smile was kind and hungry and went in
for a deep kiss that confused and shocked the teenager.
“What did I do to deserve you, John?” the older man sped up his hips, moving
over to rub against the boy’s thigh, which John was ever grateful for because
even the soft material of his pants was irritating his oversensitive cock. It
was strange feeling Sherlock’s hardness against his leg, recalling their first
phone conversation when the man told him he was eight inches long. He really
didn’t know how big eight inches was, but whatever was rutting against him felt
enormous and intimidating.
The man gave a loud grunt, burying his face into John’s neck and suddenly the
man felt heavy and the wetness in his crotch and now on his thigh was starting
to become uncomfortable as he came down from his orgasm. As if the man had read
his mind, Sherlock jumped up with a massive grin. “I think we kind of ruined
our clothes, did you bring pajamas with you or do you need to borrow some of
mine?”
John sat up, “no, I brought some. I’ll go change,” he stood up and walked
slowly towards the hall. When the air hit the wet spots on his clothes it
seemed to start a chain reaction of coldness shooting through his body. Now he
wanted the warmness Sherlock had to offer. What the hell is wrong with me? 
 “John?” The man called, taking a few steps towards him, “I think I might
actually need a shower, do you…um, well you don’t have to, but I’m sure you
feel pretty gooey too. If you wanted I could wash you, you know like give you a
massage. I’m sure your back is soar from lying on the couch. Like I said you
don’t have to, but…”
The boy had never even thought about being washed by another person before. It
was a shower, you got in, you got out, that was it but knowing how gentle
Sherlock’s hands would be with washing his body sent chills through him and
down to his spent groin. “No, I mean, yeah, I mean, sure I would like that.”
Stupid, stupid, stupid why can’t you just talk normal?
The man smiled, like John saying yes was the greatest thing in the entire
world. “Wonderful, come on it’s right here. You go ahead and get it, I’ll find
another towel and flannel for you.” Sherlock pointed to the door down the
hallway for John to go into, while he went in the room opposite. The boy walked
into a huge bedroom with a master bed, perfectly made John noticed, with a ruby
colored comforter and a bunch of pillows nicely organized at the head. He
smiled and walked shyly into the bathroom that was connected to the bedroom, to
find a huge tub and walk in shower big enough for five people.
As soon as he set foot in the bathroom and realized the next step was to take
his clothes off, John began to panic. Well what else did you think taking a
shower meant?This was important to Sherlock, he could tell, and in his mind he
knew it would be amazing to have the man wash him. There was still a little
piece of self-consciousness and doubt in Sherlock that gave him pause, but when
the man’s words of how much he loved him for his beauty and maturity, John made
his decision.       
He gave a quick thanks to whoever was watching out for him that Sherlock still
hadn’t come back, and quickly turned on the tap and began stripping out of his
soiled clothes. It was surprising how much calmer his mind was that he was able
to take of his clothes and get into the shower without the man’s piercing eyes
watching him like a hawk. He worked the knob to adjust the water to warm but
not hot, when he heard the older man come in with the extra towels. “You okay?”
“Uhhh, yeah, it’s nice,” John said turning his back to the door, ensuring that
the first thing Sherlock wouldn’t see was his much smaller package. He didn’t
care too much for having his arse being the first thing either, but it was much
better than his cock and bullocks. His heart stopped when he heard the door
behind him open, then two splashes as he stepped in and shut the door.
To John’s mind, the silence lasted forever, only the background noise of the
water stopped him from breaking down. Then, he felt a hand on his shoulder, the
thumb slowly rubbing over the knobs on his neck. “You’re gorgeous John, please
let me see you,” the dark sensual voice pleaded in his year, echoing high above
the sound of the water hitting the tile. With slight pressure on his shoulder
and all the trust he could muster, John closed his eyes and slowly turned to
face the older man. “It’s okay,” he hadn’t realized he was shaking violently
until the man wrapped his arms around him, pulling him tightly to his large
chest. “How do you not know how beautiful you are?”
John could feel his cock pressed up against the man’s warm thigh and in turn he
could feel Sherlock’s pressed up against his stomach. He tried not to focus on
the size difference, knowing his doctor had told him he would get longer in the
next year, but still it was proof of his stupid youth. Sherlock finally pulled
away, holding him out at arm’s length, gazing at his smaller body like he
wanted to devour him. Those eyes both terrified the boy and made his cock
twitch a bit towards the owner of said eyes. “May I wash you?” How could he say
no, however, the words wouldn’t come out so he just nodded meekly.
Sherlock smiled, then poured some shower gel into his hand and began rubbing it
gently over John’s smooth chest. He couldn’t stop the moan from escaping his
lips at how just one touch made all of his skin tingle and feel like it was
burning from the inside. One large hand held the back of his neck, while the
other slowly worked the soap into a lather down his arms, his chest, and
stomach, finally traveling down to his half hard cock. As soon as Sherlock
began playing with the short fine blonde hairs resting around his member, John
dropped his head on the man’s shoulders.
“You like that? How about this?” his thin fingers wrapped around his member,
slowly pulling the foreskin back all the way, then pulling it back over the
head again.
“Sh-Sherlock,” his whole body shivered from the contact that one piece of skin
was receiving. The boy was amazed at how different it felt form when he wanked
himself, though he had no idea why it should be any different, but it most
definitely was. If he had a choice he would never go back to doing it solo
again. When the slippery warm hand stopped, John involuntarily bucked his hips,
searching in vain for more friction.
“All in good time,” the man chuckled, “how about you wash me off before we run
out of hot water, yeah?” In a single moment, feelings of frustration, lust,
fear, and want all passed through his young brain until he pushed them away and
grabbed the soap bottle with wide eyes. Just do exactly what he did, John. Then
you won’t mess up.The boy squirted some green goo into his palm and placed it
back on the shelf, staring at the chest in front of him.
His hesitation was short lived, when Sherlock gently grabbed his wrist, leading
him up to touch the ivory stomach. The first jolt of contact was all the
teenager needed and soon he was using both hands to rub the soap all over the
man’s body. They both giggling softly when the suction between John’s hand and
Sherlock’s bicep caused a loud farting noise. After making sure the man’s torso
was clean, the teen glanced down at the black hairs leading down to a fully
erect cock jutting out from an even thicker bed of curls. He had seen it out of
the corner of his eye while washing him, but now he was looking at the first
mature cock he’d ever seen, not counting porn of course.        
He refused to look intimidated though, because that would only validate his own
inadequacies, so he grabbed some more soap and slowly worked his way down the
trail of hair until he was gripping Sherlock’s hard cock. He heard a soft moan
above him, bringing a pleased smile to his lips at the fact that he could cause
the older man to make the same sounds as he did. He worked his hand up and
down, just like Sherlock had done, until the tip was a bright red. The man
pulled him away and suddenly pushed him against the wall, pushing his chest up
against the boy’s back.
A bit freighted by the sudden force, John yelped and tried to push back until
he felt a large hand come around his neglected cock. “Shhhh, this is what you
want. I know it is,” he whispered in the boy’s ear and began rocking his hips
slightly against John’s lower back. His nerves were calming once again when he
felt a soapy hand rub along his neck and back, while the other was stroking
over his ball sac. He felt the hand move along his spine, until it came to rest
on his left arse cheek, squeezing the flesh a little.
“Sherlock-“ he was cut off as he inhaled sharply when he felt a finger brush
over the muscle of his hole. He wanted to push away, to stop, but that would be
childish. What else did you expect to happen? You know what sex is idiot.
“Shhh, just relax,” came the smooth voice of the man leaning over him. All the
attention given to his bullocks were lost in the fear and anticipation of that
one finger resting in between his cheeks. Slowly he felt a strange stretch and
then the finger slipped in, holding still. It was just strange more than
anything, a tad painful yes, but weirdly enough it just felt like he had to use
the loo. However, he wasn’t about to say that to the man who was now laying
kissing on his nape and thrusting lazily on his arse cheek.
When the finger started to pull out, however, that was when a burning sensation
spread through the inside of the canal. “Ah, ah,” and then it was shoved back
in, then out a few times until there wasn’t much pain at all. So this is
sex? Then he felt a more uncomfortable stretch when Sherlock tried to put two
fingers in instead of just one. “Ah, wait Sherlock don’t!” but his plea was too
late, and the burning he felt before, intensified as the fingers sat unmoving
inside of him. “Please take them out, it hurts,” the boy whined, his erection
flagging slightly.
“You just need to relax John, if you don’t of course it’s going to hurt. Just
breathe for me, yeah, that’s it,” Sherlock practically growled in his ear,
thrusting faster into his leg. John’s feet were scrambling for purchase on the
wet floor, when suddenly the two burning fingers hit something that made him
yelp and his cock twitch back to life. “There you are!” Sherlock laughed,
thrust his fingers again to hit the boy’s prostate.
“What…oh God, how did you-?” he still felt the over fullness and burning from
the two fingers but the shock wave of pleasure every time Sherlock hit
something inside him trumped all.
“Your prostate John, don’t they teach you anything in health class these days?”
the older man tugged lightly on the tight bullocks between the boy’s legs but
avoided the now hard cock.
“I must have missed the class where they said, ‘hey when you have anal sex make
sure to hit the prostate ‘cause it feels amazing.’” John laughed, forgetting
about the burning until Sherlock removed the finger and tried to add a third
one. “Ahhh, no Sherlock that’s too much, wait ‘stop!’” the boys last word went
up an octave as the man behind him worked the tips of three fingers into his
small hole. He began to squirm and whimper, but Sherlock pressed his chest to
John’s back, holding him in place and thrusting his fingers in time with his
cock on the boy’s leg. “S-stop, it hurts, Sherlock, please,” the teen couldn’t
stop the tears welding up in his eyes from the burning pain he felt in his
anus. Why won’t he stop?
“Open up for me, John, my beautiful John. I need in, let me in,” Sherlock
finally got all three fingers into the squirming boy. John barley heard the
words in his ears but was confused when Sherlock said ‘I need in.’ He shrugged
it off though when he felt the pleasure shoot through him again when one of the
fingers hit that beautiful prostate. This time however, it only dampened the
pain he felt, but the boy took deep breathes accepting that this was sex and
what he was supposed to be feeling.
After what seemed like forever of that dull burn, Sherlock finally pulled out
and John’s eyes widened when he felt something much wider press between his
cheeks. “Are you ready to be mine, John?” the older man whispered in his ear.
No! No, I am not ready for this!“Sherlock, wait, I-I don’t think I want to do
this yet.” John stuttered out and was completely thrown off by what the man
behind him whispered next.
“I know.” With that, he started pushing his much bigger than three fingers cock
into the boy’s red hole.
“Sherlock, I said stop, get off me! Ahh, you’re hurting me, please stop!” John
moved his hand away from the wall to push the hips away, but was halted when
one of Sherlock’s large hands grabbed both of his, holding them hostage above
his head against the tile wall. “Let go of me, what ar-ahhh” his voice cracked
as he felt himself being penetrated, the burn and stretch was unbelievable,
much more painful that the fingers.
“Shhh, relax John, you want this, you told me,” Sherlock cooed stroking the now
flaccid cock in his hand. The boy’s mouth shot open in a silent scream when he
felt his mate was eight inches deep inside him, taking his virginity. That’s
it, I’m no longer a virgin…huh.
“Please pullout it hurts,” John tried to move his hand, but when they were held
fast he tried to buck against the man to get him off, but only succeeded in
causing more pain to his hyperextended ring of muscle.
“I know it does, but the worst is over, I’m in you now and you’ll never have to
feel that pain again.” Sherlock gently rocked his hips, bringing a grunt from
them both, one of pleasure and one of pain. “You like having me in you don’t
you John, you said I could come in you,” he began pulling his cock out, “and
that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
“Sh-Sherlock,” the teen’s cheeks were bright pink, as was his chest, from
arousal, pain, and the hot water still beating down on them. He couldn’t
imagine this ever feeling good, the uncomfortable fullness he felt on the
inside and the burn at the entrance muscle was horrible.
“I said relax John, I’m not trying to hurt you but you’re hurting yourself from
worrying too much,” Sherlock commanded, his tone scared the teen who had never
heard the man snap at him before.
“I-I’m trying, I’m sorry, please just slow down,” John begged and was met with
a deep kiss, calming him enough to focus on the hand bringing him to full
hardness again.
“Good boy, that’s it,” he praised and John was disturbed at how much he soaked
it up, acting like balm on the soreness in his arse. “Come for me John, come
while I’m inside of you.”
When Sherlock bent the boy’s front down slightly, thrusting in deeper, John
felt the cock hit his prostate repentantly. “Come on, show me you love me John,
show me,” Sherlock was thrusting so fast, the teen could have sworn his spine
would snap in half at any moment. But soon, the combination of the wanking,
continued stimulation to his prostate, and the dulling burn inside him, John
shouted as he came all over the wall. He panted, watching his white come and
pink water wash down towards the drain. Am I bleeding?
“Yes!” Sherlock shouted behind him, thrusting in so deep, John screamed in
pain, but was gathered up to the man’s chest as soon as it was over. He had
felt the man’s cock twitch a bit but it was oddly unsatisfying, what with
everybody always begging in the pornos, ‘oh, please I want to feel you come in
me’ or ‘don’t you like the way my come feels inside you.’ Honestly, he wouldn’t
have known if Sherlock hadn’t shouted and was now holding him to his chest.
“I’m inside you now, forever, John. I love you.”
“I love you too,” John whispered over the water noise and he meant it too. His
arse hurt yes, he was still pissed and hurt that Sherlock didn’t stop, but
other than that he didn’t feel any different and it did feel nice to his over
sensitive skin being held. “Ah,” he yelp when Sherlock slowly slid out, giving
him a sympathetic smile.
“Sorry, here let me clean you up, yeah. Then we can go snuggle before bed.”
John nodded slowly, exhausted from having two orgasms, and let Sherlock move
him around like a rag doll. “I promise it won’t hurt next time, love, you know
I would never intentionally put you through pain. That’s just how it always
feels the first time, understand?”
“Yeah,” John agreed because he remembered all the videos he’d watched with the
bottoms moaning and sometimes crying. That was just sex and if Sherlock said it
would get better than it would, because he knew a lot more about it. “Hurts,”
John whimpered when it felt like soap was being rubbed into a raw cut on his
bum. He tried to look down when he thought he saw more red flowing down the
drain, but Sherlock grabbed his chin and coaxed him into a deep soothing kiss.
“I know, but Sherlock will make it all better. I promise,” the man smiled as he
finished washing off the boy, paying extra care over his arse, cock, and
bullocks. “All done, let’s get you dried off, yeah?” Sherlock did as he said,
holding John tight to his side, while the boy held onto his torso for dear
life, until he dried him off and picked him up bridal style.
“Hey,” John squealed but lay lax in the man’s arms, relishing in the warmth and
smooth skin. “I can walk you know.”
“I know,” he said but continued carrying him to the bed, then gently laid him
down and got in behind the small boy. It was strange at first, being naked with
another man holding him from behind, but knowing what he just experienced with
Sherlock, John didn’t want to be away from the man even for a second. “I’m
never going to let you go,” he heard the deep voice whisper in his ear and
wondered if he wanted that too. He felt cold now if the man wasn’t holding him
and John wondered, as he drifted to sleep, if it was because Sherlock had taken
something from him that used to keep him warm.            
 
Chapter End Notes
     Well, there it is...I hope you enjoyed and the next chapter will be
     parallel to this one but from Sherlock's POV. So it will be the same
     scene and dialog, however, Sherlock hears some things that aren't
     necessarily accurate and you'll find out a little more about his
     plans for his John.
     Anyways, I have finally chosen which ending I want to go with and I
     think it will please most of you and I'm really happy with it too.
     There will be three more chapters, unless I get carried away, until
     the end, but if Sherlock's last line is anything to go by...sorry,
     I've said to much already(:
***** So He Won't Break *****
Chapter Summary
     Sherlock's POV during their Chapter 7.
Chapter Notes
     Hello again everybody! Well, you can all than my hubby for getting
     sick because we were planning on going out so I wouldn't be able to
     write this chapter until Monday. Now, however, we're both at home and
     he's throwing up and I'm drinking beer writing this fic. LOL.
     IMPORTANT PLEASE READ: This is the same notice I used for the last
     chapter
     Okay, so this is it guys. Sherlock's POV of his first sexual
     encounter with John. It is not as bad as I originally thought it was
     going to be, but by the end it is gets pretty intense. So please,
     PLEASE, look at the updated tags and know that this is dub-con
     verging on rape because John is a minor and unsure. If you are easily
     triggered by these things, DO NOT READ. I do not wish to upset or
     trigger somebody inadvertently, so just be aware of what you are
     getting into.
     Please enjoy and as always I would love to hear your comments on the
     latest update! Have a great weekend.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                         Chapter 8 – So He Won’t Break
“Would you like some tea or I think I have some Coke if you’d prefer?” Sherlock
called from the kitchen to the jittery boy sitting on his couch. He already had
two Newcastles in his hands, but thought it would be best to just spring it on
him at the last minute like it was a treat. It was obvious John was still
nervous around him, but every time the boy shifted in his seat, the detective
could tell he was trying to hide the erection caused by the older man.
“Ummm, yeah a Coke sounds great,” John yelled, causing Sherlock to smirk when
he had even caused the boys voice to crack. He knew exactly how to use that
anxiety to his advantage, and would do so beautifully. Sherlock made his move,
striding gracefully into the living room holding the Ale he’d always intended
to serve.
“Oh wait, I have some Newcastle, too. Have you ever tried it?” Of course not.
Your mother says you’re too young. But not tonight, my dear John.
“Well, thanks but mum says I’m too young still. Like, kids make stupid
decisions already and don’t need beer to help ‘em, or something like that. I-
I should probably-“ John began to stutter and Sherlock saw his mistake a second
too late. However, he already has the boy in his flat and there was no possible
way a simple comment on age would change that. As always, the mistake became
his greatest weapon.
“What are you talking about? It’s not like you’re going driving or walking out
in public for the rest of the night.” Sherlock smiled, watching as John
listened intently on every word that came out of his mouth. He could tell the
boy was thinking about what their lips would be doing later. “Drinking’s not a
big deal, John, you and I drinking one is going to have the same effect on both
of us, age has nothing to do with it.” When John bowed his head in submission
and understanding, the detective knew the potential disaster was diverted and
was even rewarded with one of his boy’s nervous rambles.  
“No, that makes since. Thank you, this…umm, well this is my first beer.
Actually no, I accidentally took a sip of my mom’s once ‘cause I thought it was
Root Beer, but I spit it out before I swallowed it.”
Sherlock just smiled at the adorable boy that was now his, a wave of lust
shooting through him as their fingers touched when he passed over the bottle.
He clinked their glasses together, planting another seed in the teen’s
receptive mind, “Well then, to new mates and new experiences.” Oh John, I’m
going to show you so many new experiences.
His John smiled back with adoration in his eyes, “cheers,” he said, but as soon
as he took a sip, the smile faded and Sherlock could tell he was not a fan.
However, even if he could coax the boy into drinking half the bottle, with his
low tolerance level, it would relax him enough to stop jiggling his small knee.
“It’s not bad, I guess but I don’t see how people can drink this one with
dinners and stuff.” 
Sherlock took the opportunity to take a seat next to his lover again, pressing
up against his body was like lying in front of a calm fire during a winter
night. It took every ounce of self-control not to capture John’s lips and take
what was his. “Well there are hundreds if not thousands of beers around the
world for you to try. That’s what’s cool about trying new things and having as
many experiences as you can, yeah? Well, I don’t…that’s what I think at least.”
The detective knew there was a fine line between giving advice as an adult to a
child and talking about things as friends, so he decided to add a bit of second
guessing himself to appear as unsure as the boy sitting across from him.
“Yeah, I totally agree with you mate!” John chimed in, taking extra care to
reassure his friend they were on the same page. “That’s why I was so excited
when we talked about these scholarships. Uni will be awesome, I just know it!”
Sherlock saw the boy’s pupils dilate even more and the fact that he quickly
turned his attention back to the papers meant he was embarrassed by how turned
on the older man made him feel. Adding to the flames in the youths lust filled
mind, every few seconds the detective would shift his leg, creating the
slightest bit of friction between them as they filled out forms. “Can I use the
loo?” The teen finally broke.
“Yeah, of course, it’s right over there, that beer will do that to ya, yeah?”
He called, trying to act like he didn’t know John was about to have a panic
attack as the boy scurried away.
“Yeah, right,” he barked out a laugh, then locked himself in the bathroom. He
would give the boy five minutes before he went to check on him. It was
important for teenagers to have their time alone, at least that’s what the
internet said, and Sherlock could respect that, for now. After all, John came
to him, not the other way around, which made the boy his to care for. This
little private time proved to the older man that indeed, John was still a child
and because of that, the boy had no idea what he wanted. Lucky for him though,
his Sherlock knew exactly what the boy needed and would give it willingly, over
and over again.
He could just imagine the young mind trying to sort through everything that had
happened today. Try and try as he might, John would never be able to be mad at
the man he loved. Sherlock had made sure to plant many seeds, more like traps
really, in his mind, practically conditioning the boy to become aroused when he
heard the deep voice of his lover. John’s mind was so beautifully and
intricately crafted that it was like a hit of the most euphoric drug Sherlock
could ever imagine every time he dove in to manipulate the small strings just
so.  
After he decided John had had enough alone time, Sherlock got up and called him
back to where he belonged. “John? John, are you okay in there?”
“Yeah, sorry, I’ll just be a minute,” he heard John’s shaky voice from inside
his little sanctuary and knew that he was right in predicting the boy’s panic
attack. A moment later, John stepped out of the room and Sherlock noticed how
much he loomed over the boy. He could feel the gaze upon his chest, knowing how
small John must be feeling and thought it best to move back over to a sitting
position. He placed his hand on the small bony shoulder, leading him back over
to start the next phase of their plan.
“Are you alright? Was it the soup I made?” The detective laughed, once again
successfully using sarcasm to bring John back out of his thoughts to only focus
on his feelings.
“Ha! No, it was delicious, I was just…never mind, I’m fine let’s get back to
the applications, yeah?” John tried to brush it off, refocusing on the papers.
The boy looked surprisingly more shaken than the detective had anticipated. No
problem. Quickly, Sherlock changed to another scenario and reached out to grab
John’s chin. “John, look at me. Please tell me what’s wrong.” For a moment, he
thought the boy was going to break down right in front of him, which wouldn’t
be the worst thing that could happen and Sherlock might enjoy putting the
pieced back right where he wanted them. We’re mates, best mates, and I want you
to know you can tell me anything.” I need to know everything, John.
“I-I just don’t know what I’m feeling…no I don’t mean that I just-ugh, I’m
sorry,” John tried to look away from him, but Sherlock refused to let go of his
tight grasp on the small chin, forcing the boy to look at him. There was so
much insecurity in those dark blue eyes, more so even than the pictures had
portrayed. For a moment, the man became angry at any who would try and convince
his John he was anything less than perfect…but then, a light bulb went off in
his head and the scenario changed again.
Instead of acting more experienced than John, which he realized somewhat
intimidated the boy, he would act just as nervous, causing the roles to change
and his sweet boy would take the role of comforter. “I understand John, it’s
okay to be nervous in new situations. Quite honestly, I’m a bit shaken too,”
Sherlock lowered his intense glare, dropping his hand away from John’s chin and
waiting for the response he knew would come. In three, two, one…
“You are? But this isn’t your first time? I’ve never even…”
“With you it is. John, for some reason being around you is different than the
other men I’ve been with. You are so young and vibrant and just so much wiser
beyond your years…you’re perfect John. I just wish I could make you see that.”
You will see it, even if I have to make you, John.Then, the most delightful
noise came from the small boy sitting beside him. John giggled at the
compliment he’d been given, then covered his face in embarrassment, which might
have even be cuter than the giggle.
However, he wouldn’t allow his boy to hide anything from him, now that they
were together. “No don’t hide, you’re adorable when you’re embarrassed,” he
said, pulling the small hands away and cradling them in his larger one. Slowly
working into the next part of their night, Sherlock reached up and cupped
John’s cheek for the first time. The soft peach fuzz, the heated skin, and the
sweet sigh that came from the boy’s throat all washed through the detective in
a wave of bliss, calming even the most violent of storms in his mind.
After the sigh, he made his move, adding slight pressure on the boys cheek so
he couldn’t pull away from the man’s lips. Sherlock started slowly, coaxing the
teen into the act with soft gently touches, until he heard another moan and
began deepening the possession he had over John’s lips. Giving a few licks to
the small puckered lips, as a request for entrance, Sherlock almost tackled the
boy right then when he opened so beautifully without hesitation.
Taking full advantage of the invitation he was given, the older man moved his
tongue in to taste the exquisite delicacy that was his John. Once in, he didn’t
even have to fight for dominance because you want me to possess you, don’t you
John? After a minute or so, Sherlock felt the small body relax even further and
decided it was time to continue. Moving his hand slowly, as to not startle the
boy, from the heated cheek to a bony shoulder and began to apply slight
pressure, urging John to give in further.
As expected though, the inexperienced teen stiffened at the gesture, halting
their kiss. Sherlock had planned for this and knew the best part about having
his John was that he was terrified but would trust his friend enough to let go.
He began laying kisses along the sweaty throat, distracting the boy from his
own mind to let Sherlock do his thinking for him. “Shhh, trust me,” he
whispered and decided to add an extra jolt to the boy’s cock by nibbling the
baby soft skin right behind his ear.
John’s eyes told him he had given into his desires and with just a little bit
more pressure, the boy was under him. Knowing it was too soon to press their
hips together to show John how hard he was for him, the older man only hovered
above the couch, strategically placing his knee in between the boy’s legs for
extra friction later. They kissed for a moment until he felt tentative hands
splaying out over his flanks. At that moment he knew his John would always
surprise him and challenge his deductions. Soon, he felt one of the hands
slowly move over his rapidly beating heart and smiled down at the curious
teenager below him.
Following suit, he moved his hand over the panting chest below him, feeling his
heart beating a million miles a minute. Still smiling, Sherlock began to lower
himself to trap John below his body weight, rocking his hips slightly to give a
blissful distraction. “Feels good doesn’t it?” the older man whispered, and if
the look on the teens face was anything to go by, yes, yes it did feel good.
His John nodded but still refused to make eye contact, which needed to be
rectified immediately. “You can trust me, John, I won’t hurt you. Ever.” I love
you John and I don’t hurt what’s mine.
“I trust you,” he heard from below him and when John finally made eye contact
he could see that look in his eye again that meant he was focusing on his
faults instead of Sherlock. It was time to teach John Hamish Watson a lesson in
self-worth. The detective gave a sharp thrust with his hips, feeling the boy’s
smaller hard cock rub up against his larger one and the stomach below him
sucked in from the shock.
“What have I told you about thinking bad about yourself?” Sherlock chided,
slowly increasing the speed of his hips feeling John’s muscles stiffen below
him, preparing for an orgasm. “You are beautiful,” he gave a small nip to prove
his point but still provided strong friction against their pants, “and smart,”
another bite and rock, “and strong,” and again, “and I love you more than
anything in this world!”
With one more sharp thrust, Sherlock felt the young body go ridged and the cock
touching him jerked slightly in its confines. The sounds escaping the boy’s
throat were magnificent, pumping more blood than the man thought was possible
to his aching cock. He felt hands on his shoulders trying to push him off.
Looking down, he saw how panicked John had become from spilling in his pants,
bringing another jolt of lust at the obvious fact that this was the first time
his boy had ever come along with someone else. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I
didn’t mean to-“ John cried out, but the only result was Sherlock going in for
another kiss and rutting as hard as he could against the boy’s thigh, searching
for his own release.
“What did I do to deserve you, John?” he moaned, feeling his cock growing
harder, Sherlock gave a few more rough thrusts and came with a loud  grunt,
falling limp on the boy who let him. After a few moments however, the detective
could tell the teenager was becoming uncomfortable after the halo of their
orgasms faded, so Sherlock popped up preparing for act two. “I think we kind of
ruined our clothes, did you bring pajamas with you or do you need to borrow
some of mine?” He stood up, watching the boy closely and was pleased to see
there was a hint of sadness at the loss of his lover’s warmth in his features.
“No, I brought some. I’ll go change,” his small voice said as he walked towards
the hall way.
His boy’s displeasure opened a door of opportunity and Sherlock took it with
the swiftness of a snake striking its prey. But you’re not my prey if you are
already mine, isn’t that right love? “John?” he took a step towards his boy, “I
think I might actually need a shower, do you…um, well you don’t have to, but
I’m sure you feel pretty gooey too. If you wanted I could wash you, you know
like give you a massage. I’m sure your back is soar from lying on the couch.
Like I said you don’t have to, but…” It amazed the detective how quickly John
responded to him when the teen thought Sherlock was having second thoughts or
nervous. If that was the case, he could provide a whole vat of honey for his
little fly to feast on.
“No, I mean, yeah, I mean, sure I would like that,” John stuttered out, trying
to reassure his lover that he would want nothing more than to bathe with him.
So perfect, even when you are predictable my sweet boy.
“Wonderful, come on it’s right here. You go ahead and get in, I’ll find another
towel and flannel for you.” He followed behind the boy until he tentatively
walked into the bedroom, our bedroom,and Sherlock made his way to the spare
room to grab the extra towel he had prepared for this evening. Once he located
the materials they would need, he listened for John to turn on the tap and get
in. It was obvious the teen was self-conscious and it wouldn’t do to scare him
from taking off his clothes and getting into the shower. Yes, it would be much
easier for now to let John undress in private and wait until he is caged in the
shower waiting for Sherlock to come and take him. The detective calmed his mind
with the promise there would be plenty of time for examining the gorgeous young
body later.   
As soon as he heard the water turn on and the shower door close, he made his
move back to the bathroom. “You okay?”
“Uhhh, yeah, it’s nice,” he heard John call over the water hitting the tiles.
When he finally stepped in, he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face when the
teenager had his back turned, embarrassed about showing the older man his body.
Although he didn’t agree with John’s self-depreciation, Sherlock knew they
would work on it later and now was the perfect time to reassure his boy that he
was perfect.
“You are gorgeous John, please let me see you,” Sherlock whispered, placing a
hand on the shivering boy’s shoulder, applying pressure enough to coax him into
turning around. When he did, the small eyes were tightly closed and his
shivering turned to violent shaking. Oh, this will not do at all!“It’s okay,”
he cooed, pulling the boy into his tight embrace, swearing to himself right
then and there that he would never let John go again. There was really no point
in sending his boy back into a world that taught him to think so poorly of
himself and made him so scared of being with someone he loves. No, that would
not do at all.“How do you not know how beautiful you are?” 
It sent a rush to his cock, feeling how small and helpless the boy was in his
arms. Feeling the shallow breathing on his warm back, the half hard cock
pressed up against his leg, even the warm breathes on his chest paved the way
to his love for John. When the teenager had finally calmed, he held him out at
arm’s length to catalog every single feature in the growing room for John in
his mind palace. His thin chest, with just a hint of pectoral muscles coming
in, his stomach was flat but with small definition from his football practices,
instead of his hips going in they lined up perfectly with his broadening
shoulders, his arms were a tad too long for his body still but well-toned, and
finally what he had tried to hide from his Sherlock, a half hard cock with the
tip just peeking out at him from the foreskin and fine blonde hairs just
starting to cluster all around his drawn up testicles. He noted every single
freckle and hair, stowing it away for safe keeping in the pent house sweet of
his mind palace.
Now, he needed to touch, “may I wash you?” he asked and was met with a small
nod. Moving as slowly as his lust would let him, Sherlock poured some bath soap
into his palm and began rubbing into the smooth tan skin. He placed his hand on
the back of his John’s neck, ensure the boy wouldn’t try to pull away in this
moment of first real contact. He moved the soap all over the young body,
meandering down until he rested just at John’s pelvic bone. Dipping his hand a
few inches lower, Sherlock began tickling and playing with the small hairs,
teasing the boy in his grasp, until John dropped his head on the man’s chest in
surrender.
“You like that? How about this?” Sherlock gently wrapped his hand around the
almost full cock, in awe of how his entire hand enveloped it, and began
stroking slowly.
“Sh-Sherlock,” he heard John whimper as he played with the foreskin, wondering
briefly how John liked to wank himself. Yes, he’d seen the video, but the
stupid technology wouldn’t allow him to see exactly how his boy liked to
pleasure himself. It was no matter though, because John was an open book when
it came to these new sensations Sherlock was giving him, and it was evident
what the boy liked and didn’t like. And John definitely liked this part. After
a few minutes though, he could feel the boy tensing, approaching orgasm, so he
pulled away, making the boy yearn for more of what only Sherlock could provide.
“All in good time,” he chuckled watching John thrust his hips for attention,
“how about you wash me off before we run out of hot water, yeah?” The situation
he had moved John into would never allow for anything other than an affirmative
answer, but he waited patiently until the boy gathered his courage and poured
some soap in his hand. He saw hesitation sparkle through those dark blue eyes
and decided to give the little bird a kick out his nest, grabbing the small
wrist and placing it on his chest.
The little nudge worked like magic and soon, John was washing the older man’s
entire upper body. They even laughed like old lovers when the soap made a
squish noise while the warm hand was massaging his pale bicep. More hesitation
when the teen realized he would now have to follow in Sherlock’s footsteps and
wash the much larger cock. He couldn’t have been prouder of his boy though, who
tried desperately to hide his fear and took Sherlock’s full member in his hand.
 
The small hand felt amazing on him, tentative and inexperienced yes, but the
fact that he didn’t even ask John to jerk him off made pleasure surge through
him. When he felt his bullocks tighten from the boy having his way with him,
Sherlock couldn’t stand it anymore and pulled John away and pressed him up
against the wall. He felt the smooth warm back press back against his chest,
realizing once again how much taller he was than the boy who loved him.
He heard a sharp groan of lust from the boy and rewarded him by stroking over
his cock. “Shhhh, this is what you want. I know it is,” Sherlock cooed, rutting
against the boy’s spine, spikes of electricity shot through him while he rubbed
John’s back, slowly working his way down to the ultimate goal. Still rolling
the tight sac in his hand, Sherlock brought his hand down to the beautiful
smooth arse, kneading the flesh slightly.
“Sherlock,” the boy moaned when the detective finally touched the tight
puckered hole he wanted from the first moment he talked to John in that chat
room. It was all down to this final scene and the play would be over and John
would finally be his.
“Shhh, just relax,” he continued his distraction by playing with his perineum
and sac, as John let one index finger inside. The inner walls clenched around
him, holding his finger tightly inside, adjusting to accommodate the man he
loved. A searing heat traveled from his hand to his groin as he calmed the
panting boy below him with kisses over his neck. Sherlock couldn’t wait any
longer and began pulling out and pushing back in, opening up the inexperienced
hole for him.
“Ah, ah!” the boy groaned again at the pleasure his Sherlock was giving him,
eager for what was to come. The detective agreed, preparing to add a second
finger. “Ah, wait Sherlock don’t!” He shoved both fingers inside, rutting
roughly a few times against the boy’s arse again, enjoying how the tight muscle
surrounding his knuckles twitched around him. His boy was panting and moaning
now and Sherlock could tell he was no longer relaxed. “Please take them out, it
hurts,” John cried out, but the man knew what was best for the teenager, even
if he didn’t.
“You just need to relax John, if you don’t of course it’s going to hurt. Just
breathe for me, yeah, that’s it,” Sherlock tried to calm him enough until he
could find the prostate that would prove to the boy he was foolish for asking
to stop. When he felt the struggling cease and the small cock pop back to life,
he knew he had found it. “There you are!” Giving a few quick thrusts hitting
the nerve dead on to prove his point.  
“What…oh God, how did you-?”
“Your prostate John, don’t they teach you anything in health class these days?”
He tugged on the full bullocks in his hands, wondering briefly what they would
taste like.
“I must have missed the class where they said, ‘hey when you have anal sex make
sure to hit the prostate ‘cause it feels amazing.’” Suddenly, he felt John
relax and enjoy what was being given to him and added in a third finger for the
final step before he would take him. “Ahhh, no Sherlock that’s too much, wait
‘stop!’” He heard John yell but he knew everything was fine and his boy was
just scared of what was happening. Soon he would be begging Sherlock to fill
him up.
When John began to try and squirm away, that was when Sherlock had to step in
before  he hurt himself. Pressing his large chest against him, Sherlock shoved
him up against the wall, feeling how the boy was pinned easily while he opened
him up. “S-stop, it hurts, Sherlock, please,” John cried again, but it didn’t
matter, they were too far in this and there was no possible way he could pull
away from that oasis he’d found.
“Open up for me, John, my beautiful John. I need in, let me in,” Sherlock
whispered as John finally listened and opened up to allow the full three
fingers. It was so tight and hot, the detective couldn’t imagine what it was
going to be like to have his cock inside of John, letting the boy hold him. He
stroked his fingers in time with the thrusts of his hips, waiting and revving
up like a race car at a pit stop, preparing for their final piece of the
puzzle. Finally, he pulled out his fingers, taking his achingly hard cock in
his hand and lining up for home. “Are you ready to be mine, John?” Although, it
did seem pointless to ask looking at the position they were both in at that
second, but he wanted his boy to be ready to feel every inch of him.
“Sherlock, wait, I-I don’t think I want to do this yet,” John cried out like
Sherlock knew he would eventually, the realization of how completely owned he
was, spilling over in a frightening mess. He was just a boy, though; he
wouldn’t hold it against him for being afraid of the unknown. Soon, he would
learn to trust in his lover, who would do what was best for him, but for now,
Sherlock would just have to prove it to him.
“I know,” he whispered and forced his way past the only resistance keeping him
away from what was his.
“Sherlock, I said stop, get off me! Ahh, you’re hurting me, please stop!” In
his panic, John reached around and tried to push at the hips behind him and
that was unacceptable. Sherlock grabbed the flimsy hands and held them up
against the tile wall until John could learn to behave himself. “Let go of me,
what ar-ahhh” The boy’s screams synced perfectly as he watched his cock breach
and enter the warm heat that would always be his.
He knew the stretch would hurt, that was unavoidable for the first time, but he
took care of his boy, slowly stroking the soft penis between his fingers,
feeling a bit of life come back at his touch. “Shhh, relax John, you want this,
you told me,” Sherlock cooed, giving John what the boy had imagined, as his
entire cock sunk into that hole where nobody else had ever been and nobody
except him would ever go. Mine, finally mine.He saw a few drops of blood drip
down the boy’s leg from the small tears his cock had caused, christening their
shower and proving the boy had been taken.
“Please pullout it hurts,” John sobbed, but Sherlock observed the trembling
hips jerked back towards him, subconsciously seeking out the pleasure the man
could give him. He stood there for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being
inside that warm twitching canal, imagining how full, how complete John must
feel now that he had his lover all the way inside of him.  
“I know it does, but the worst is over, I’m in you now and you’ll never have to
feel that pain again.” It was the truth too, Sherlock would never let him feel
the emotional agony that John seemed to carry with him and if anybody ever
tried to hurt him, he would make sure the police never found their body.
“Sh-Sherlock,” John cried again, tightening up around the cock that was
stretching him open. He could feel the boy tensing even more, forcing Sherlock
to hurt him. That was what the teenager always did though, thought too much and
ended up only hurting him and the one he loved. That ends now, John. You will
not be allowed to hurt yourself through me.
“I said relax John, I’m not trying to hurt you but you’re hurting yourself from
worrying too much,” he snapped at the boy, hating himself for it but knew that
tough love was sometimes the only way to get through to his stubborn boy.
“I-I’m trying, I’m sorry, please just slow down,” John had become fully hard in
his hand now that he was finally listening to the older man’s instruction.
Rewarding him for finally listening and giving in, Sherlock pulled him into a
deep kiss.
“Good boy, that’s it,” Sherlock cooed in his ear, feeling how the hard cock
twitched at the praise. “Come for me John, come while I’m inside of you,” he
growled, becoming lost in the sensation of thrusting in and out of the
tightness. “Come on, show me you love me John, show me,” his hips bucking
harsher, showing John how much he was being possessed, forcing the come out of
him. That is my come. All of it, give it to me John!The teen proved his love
with a loud shout and Sherlock held the cock tight, feeling the pulsing seed
leave his body in waves.
The boy’s orgasm caused the walls inside to contract dramatically, squeezing
and begging Sherlock to replace the seed that was dispensed only moments ago.
Out with the old, in with the new.“Yes!” he shouted at the top of his lungs,
pushing himself deep inside aiming for John’s heart as he came over and over
again, both giving the boy what he needed and taking from him what would sate
his mind. The high he had received from this one simple act made his mind feel
like it didn’t even exist, as if the raging wars amongst his lobes had never
even happened. He was hooked on the perfect drug that was wrapped in his arms.
“I’m inside you now, forever, John. I love you.”
“I love you too,” John whispered without hesitation, bringing Sherlock to hug
him closer. However, the water was starting to turn colder and his fingers
where becoming prunes, so the detective decided it was time for bed. He pulled
out gently, resulting in an “Ah,” from John at the loss and empty feeling he
was surely experiencing.
“Sorry, here let me clean you up, yeah. Then we can go snuggle before bed,”
Sherlock smiled down at the boy, who looked warn out and poured some soap in
his hand. “I promise it won’t hurt next time, love, you know I would never
intentionally put you through pain. That’s just how it always feels the first
time, understand?” He knew it would still hurt, it almost always would, but as
John got older and their love grew, it would be all the boy wanted.
“Yeah,” he said, about to fall asleep from Sherlock washing over his body. He
slowly ran the wet flannel down his back and gently over his red bum, pulling
the cheeks apart a little to see tiny traces of blood from his claiming. He
felt bad that he had to hurt his John, but it had to be done and the oasis he
craved from the boy was now inside of him too. “Hurts,” he whimpered, as
Sherlock washed the blood away, making him new and whole again. The boy tried
to look at the blood coming from him, but that wouldn’t do any good for either
of them, so he pulled him into a sensual kiss.
“I know, but Sherlock will make it all better. I promise,” he promised with all
his heart and mind, finishing cleaning the boy to his satisfaction, never
rubbing too hard over the oversensitive areas. “All done, let’s get you dried
off, yeah?” John held onto him like a lifeline as they dried off and Sherlock
held him just as tight, never letting go of the pieces he had broken the boy
into.
On a whim, Sherlock picked up the naked boy, carrying him over to their bed.
“Hey, I can walk you know,” the teen scoffed but they both knew he didn’t mean
it.
“I know,” was all the detective said before lying his lover into bed and
curling around him, protecting him from anybody who would try to hurt him. The
warm body next to him was rigid for only ten point nine seconds and then melted
into their spooning position with a sigh. He couldn’t help the promise that
escaped his lips, “I’m never going to let you go.” John was the most euphoric
drug he’d ever had and the best part was he never ran out of ‘John.’ Sure, the
teenager wouldn’t understand at first, but that was okay because he had
Sherlock to watch out for him now.
Chapter End Notes
     I hope you all enjoyed! Only two more chapters to go(:
***** Keep Me *****
Chapter Summary
     John's POV after their first night together.
Chapter Notes
     Hello everyone! Thank you again for all the comments and kudos. I
     can't believe I've received over 100 kudos for this little fic.
     This chapter has some dub-con verging on non-con oral sex, so please
     check the tags and know what you are about to read is dark and
     disturbing. If you've made it this far though, it is not as upsetting
     as the last two chapters.
     I hope you all enjoy!!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                              Chapter 9 – Keep Me
John woke up with a warm pressure on his chest and a throbbing pain in his
arse. Warm breath ghosted over his throat, causing goose bumps to rise over his
arms and chest. Suddenly, as if the Devil himself had rushed into his mind and
turned on the light, John remembered everything that happened last night. How
Sherlock had lied to him about his age, how he loved kissing Sherlock, the way
Sherlock had gently washed him, told him he was beautiful and special, how
Sherlock hadn’t stopped when John was crying out for him to pull out. Was I…?
Did Sherlock…? No, he didn’t rape me, did he? It felt sort of nice after a
while but I did tell him to stop, what does that mean?
“Good morning,” a deep voice rumbled from near his chest. When John looked
down, he saw the man who had taken his virginity staring up at him with a wide
sleepy smile. Sherlock had one lanky arm sprawled over John’s bare stomach,
while the other was snug under the small back and his messy brown curls
cascaded over his chest. It was comforting to know he hadn’t been abandoned
after last night, ensuring him that the older man’s agenda was not to shag and
flee with some kid he’d found on the internet.
“Good morning,” John finally whispered, bringing a shy smile to his face when
Sherlock began kissing from his right nipple to his left. “Wh-what are you
doing?” He stuttered out, ashamed at how quickly his hips began to thrust
slightly from the little display of infection. His cock was already hard from
just waking up but his arse was so sore, there was no way he was going to let
Sherlock do what they did last night. “Sherlock, please it hurts too much from
last night.”
“What does? I didn’t even touch your nipples last night and your cock seems to
be enjoying itself.” Sherlock mumbled, moving his head lower, biting the soft
sensitive skin over his ribs and belly.
“No, no, I mean my-“ John stopped himself, wondering what would happen if he
told Sherlock ‘no.’ If last night was any indication, the man would do whatever
he wanted to John, whether he had to hold him down or not. What if this time,
he’d had enough and decided he didn’t want to be friends with someone who was a
weak kid and complained all the time? I don’t want him to leave me.
“Oh, of course, it was your first time, how could I be so unobservant. I’m sure
your arse is unbelievably sore, yeah? I’m sorry I hurt you, John, but that’s
how it always feels after the first time.” Sherlock gave an odd sympathetic
smile, reaching up to plant a soft kiss just on the teenager’s nose. John
couldn’t stop the smile or the warm rush of heat coursing through his body when
those silver eyes gazed down at him, lust and love in their depths. “However,
my John, you are quite a lucky lad. Do you know why?” The older man began
crawling down the small body with a predatory grin plastered over his features.
If the teenager was honest with himself, the look terrified him, but made his
cock twitch, which in itself was confusing as hell.
“W-why?”
“Because you,” his mop of curls disappeared underneath the ruby covers, “have a
Sherlock to make you feel all better.” The deep voice was muffled and John only
had a second to wonder what the man was doing until he felt something warm and
wet engulf his entire cock. His spine arced off the bed, the only thing keeping
him from floating were two large hands holding onto his hips. Sherlock kept him
safe, Sherlock kept him from floating away and never coming back.
“Holy shi-ite!” His young voice cracked when he felt something, most likely a
finger, press the piece of flesh just under his bullocks and start to rub.
Using the last bit of blood left in his brain, John was able to coordinate his
limbs to throw back the blanket and take in the image of a beautiful man
staring up at him while taking his hard cock deep into his mouth. The
physicality of it was beyond bliss but the emotions that ran through John’s
young lust clouded mind where even better. Even though Sherlock had physically
hurt him last night, only once really,the older man was now making amends
tenfold.
When he’d told Sherlock his arse hurt, the teenager had expected an eye roll at
best but now, the older man was sucking him off without hesitation and denying
himself pleasure to take care of the one he’d hurt. That fact alone made his
body stiffen, his balls tighten up, and he felt Sherlock swallow around him,
practically making his vision go white. After he’d rode through the spasms of
his orgasm, Sherlock grinned up at him, wiping the glossy liquid from his chin.
The lanky man crawled back up, lying his whole body over the boy and stroked
his hair idly. Once again, John was in awe at how being squashed between
Sherlock and the bed didn’t make him feel Closter phobic, but instead he felt
safe and tucked away from the world.
“You taste exquisite, John. Just like I knew you would,” Sherlock hovered his
lips just above the dazed teen. “Taste yourself on me,” he whispered, then
descended upon John’s lips and after a moment of hesitation, he parted his
small lips to allow the older man inside. It did taste slightly different, John
noticed, whether it was weird morning breath or his come he didn’t know. The
strange taste wasn’t bad and Sherlock seemed to like it, which definitely
wasn’t a bad thing. So John continued to kiss until he was out of breath.
They stared at each other for a long time, until John realized how unacceptably
rude he was being. After Sherlock was so understanding about his soreness, hell
the man didn’t even make fun of him, the least he could do was repay him. “Can-
can I taste you?” The words came from his mouth before he could stop himself.
His terror and uncertainty was washed away, however, when he saw the delight in
those silver eyes above him.
“I would love that, John. Have you…well, have you ever given one before?”
Sherlock rolled over, bringing John with him so he lie on top of the broad
chest, bracing his arms on either side and straddling the man’s thin waist.
Originally, he was planning on just winging it and trying his best to copy what
Sherlock had done to him instead of admitting more inexperience. He nodded his
head, not meeting the man’s gaze. “Then I’m honored, it’s okay,” he cooed,
running a hand through the bed head victim that was John’s blonde hair. “You
don’t have to rush, take all the time you need, yeah. We have all the time in
the world now, John.” Well, technically no we don’t because it’s Sunday.But, he
kept his thoughts to himself, not wanting to ruin the romantic gesture.
He worked his way south, building up his courage enough to kiss the ivory belly
as it moved up and down slowly. A moan echoed from the head of the bed,
instilling more nerve until he reached a trail of dark hairs leading down to a
very hard, very large cock resting on a bed of wiry curls. He hadn’t realized
how long he’d been staring at what was about to be in his mouth until a large
warm hand settled on the back of his neck, causing him to jump slightly. “It’s
alright, it’s not going to bite you,” Sherlock chuckled and that sweet sound
brought him back again to the here and now.
With the gentle hand on his neck, John took the twitching and engorged flesh in
his hand, pulling the foreskin back and forth a few times. Giving a quick
glance up at Sherlock, who was staring intently down at what was about to
happen, and then took just the tip in his mouth. “John,” the man groaned, which
tremendously built up the teenagers confidence enough that he started sucking
and licking lightly while moving his hand up and down. “Suck a little harder,
no teeth though, be careful,” Sherlock instructed in a gravelly voice, which
made John want to do better. There was no way he would be able to take the
entire cock into his mouth like the older man had done for him, but he would
take as much as he could, to prove to Sherlock he could be good at something.
To John’s surprise, the flesh in his mouth just tasted like clean hot skin.
Luckily they had both cleaned off, well Sherlock cleaned us because I was too
zombied out to do anything last night,because the thought of where this cock
had been last night would have been disgusting to put into his mouth. The warm
throbbing was calming and he continued to suck as far down as he could, without
pushing too far down into his throat. Once, he got a bit too far down when
Sherlock accidentally thrust his hips up, causing him to gag slightly and tears
to form in his eyes. He remembered he’d done the same thing earlier, so John
wasn’t mad but he did wish he was strong enough to hold them down like Sherlock
was able to do to him.
“You’re doing so good John. Try and take a little more. I want to feel you
swallow around me, just like I did to you. Didn’t that feel good?” Sherlock was
almost breathless from what John was doing to him, but the boy didn’t think he
would be able to take anymore even if he wanted to, which he did, he really
really did. He continued sucking, working his tongue around aimlessly and moved
his hand faster over the base that he couldn’t reach, until he felt a slight
pressure at the back of his head. “That’s it, open up your throat for me,” he
heard as the spongy tip poked the back of his throat, forcing his eyes to
squeeze shut and his throat muscles to contract violently. It took everything
he had not to accidentally bite down from the sudden involuntary reaction
created from the invasion.
When he tried to pull his head up to swallow the saliva his mouth was producing
gallons of, the hand kept him steady but didn’t push any harder down. John
began to panic, using his arms as leverage to push up but was met by Sherlock
sitting up and pulling him up to the head of the bed, while his mouth was still
being impaled by the man’s cock. “Whaaa vwaa Fwuuuk” John tried to yell around
the flesh in his mouth, but was now lying flat on his belly, head propped up,
arms locked under Sherlock’s thighs, and his face right in the man’s crotch
with a hand on the back of his head and one on his convulsing throat.
Sherlock had moving into a sitting position with his back against the head
board, legs spread eagle, looking down at the boy’s head in his lap, and
rubbing his cock through the boy’s small throat. “That’s it, take it, I know
you can John. Shhh, relax and just breathe through your nose,” he cooed gently
down to John as if he wasn’t holding him down. He felt the large hand rub along
his throat as the large bulge was forced farther up into his mouth. All he
could see were black curls over the white skin, while the smell of sweat and
musk invading his nose. John pulled his knees up to his chest to try and get
more leverage to pull away from the man who was lost in lust.
Once he was in position, Sherlock grunted and pushed his cock even deeper into
John’s throat. It didn’t hurt really, but his mind was yelling at him to
breathe and swallow what was being forced down his throat. He realized Sherlock
had come when he felt warm bitter salty liquid roll down into his stomach.
After a moment, the hand holding him down released and grabbed a hold of his
hair, yanking him up into a deep brutal kiss. “You are so perfect John, I love
you, all mine, so perfect,” Sherlock kept chanting as he kissed all the way
down the boy’s neck, holding him tightly to his pale chest.
John didn’t struggle away nor did he reciprocate as the thoughts running
through his brain paralyzed him. He’d seen people give blow jobs on the telly
and it was common for the top to hold the bottoms heads down but he didn’t do
that to Sherlock, did I, I don’t remember? It felt really good though.Overall,
it wasn’t horrible and now that the older man had him in an iron grip, rubbing
his spine and ribs, John’s body told him everything was okay now.
“Do you want some breakfast,” Sherlock asked with his face buried in sweaty
blonde hair.
“Yeah, I’m starved,” he groaned when the man lifted him off his chest and sat
him on the edge of the bed. God, is my arse always going to hurt like this?
That must have been blood I saw in the water last night.
“Still sore?” Sherlock asked, wrapping an arm around the thin stomach. “I’ll
let you sit on my lap while we eat. How does that sound?” John felt him nibble
slightly at the side of his belly and laughed, bating the head away.  
“After breakfast we better head back to Southampton,” John pulled on his red
pants and checkered sleep trousers that were lying on the floor but his shirt
was nowhere to be found. The thought of leaving Sherlock left an ice cold blob
in his stomach, but the relief of being away from the man calmed his over
engaged brain.
“We’ll talk about it while we eat, yeah?” Sherlock smiled and pulled on his
sleep trousers and a baggy grey shirt.
That was a strange answer that made the teenager take pause, but it was as if
his mind wasn’t communicating to his body and he had no idea why Sherlock’s
last sentence scared him so much. “Okay,” he whispered, keeping his head down
and following the man down stairs into the kitchen.
“I have some scones!” Sherlock cheered and pulled out two plates, placing the
larger blueberry pastry in front of John. “Eat up, I’ll pour you some milk.” He
went over to the fridge and as soon as he opened it, something foul smelling
hit John’s nose, making him scrunch up his face. Nasty, something is definitely
rotting in there. I just hope it’s not the milk.“Sorry, I think I left some
oranges in there too long,” the man laughed turning his back to John and
pouring two glasses of milk. He put the container back into the contaminated
fridge and sat down across from John, sliding a glass to the boy. “Drink up, I
promise it wasn’t the milk,” he smiled and took a sip.
The scones were delicious and, to John’s relief, the milk tasted fine too.
After five minutes, the plate was void of all crumbs and the milk was gone.
John decided it was time to go home so he could think about what happened this
weekend without those piercing eyes staring into his soul. Sometimes it seemed
like Sherlock was forcing thoughts into his head, or at least making them
muddled enough so it was hard to think. “If you can’t drive me home it’s no big
deal. I can ride the tube if that would be easier.”
“Why would you want to do that?” Sherlock drank the last of his milk.
“Well, you didn’t seem like you wanted to drive me.”
“I don’t mind driving you. Where would you like to go?”
What do you mean ‘where would I like to go?’Something tickled at the back of
his brain and John identified it as danger. “I need to get home. I told my mom
I would be home by five, Sherlock.”
“You are home, John,” Sherlock smiled at him like he did when they were kissing
on the couch and when he looked at him naked for the first time in the shower.
If it wasn’t for that smile, John would have ran for the door without a second
though, but instead he only scooted his chair back from the table.
“No, my mom will worry about me if I don’t come home. We-we can still talk and
stuff but my mom will come looking for me if I don’t come back.” At that point,
John didn’t know if he was telling the truth or lying that he and Sherlock
would still hang out after what had happened over the weekend, but he didn’t
want to make the man mad.
“No she won’t, because you’ll be dead,” Sherlock’s voice was so nonchalant when
he said…wait, did he just say he’s going to kill me?
John sprung out of his chair, grabbing the plate in his hand, just in case he
needed to use it as a weapon. “Don’t come any closer,” he threatened but his
voice sounded slurred for some reason and the man he was warning seemed to
double.
“What?…Oh, John no. What I mean is she will think you are dead. Ha! You thought
I was going to kill you? Oh, John I would never hurt you, you know that.” The
man stood up and began walking towards him, with an amused smile when the
teenager dropped the plate.
“Wha-what’s ha-hap-happening to-“John started to panic when his vision showed
three out of focus Sherlocks coming closer to him but his legs felt like he’d
just run thirty miles and were ready to collapse. He hadn’t even realized he
dropped the plate.  
“I put a sedative in your milk, shh shh, it’s okay,” he whispered, rushing over
to the boy when his legs finally turned to noodles and could no longer support
him. John felt the ground leave him and warm hands supporting his back like
iron trestles as he was carried up the stairs back to the bedroom.
Sherlock laid him down, pulling the covers up to his chin as John tried to bat
the six blurry hands away from him. “Go to sleep, John. When you wake up,
you’ll be a whole new person.”  
Chapter End Notes
     Stockholm Syndrome anyone?
     Thank you for reading and I would love to hear what you thought of
     this latest update(:
***** I Got Mine *****
Chapter Summary
     Sherlock ensures John will be his forever.
Chapter Notes
     Hello! Thank you again for all the wonderful support you have all
     given me during this story.
     NOTE: I have decided to make this fic into a series, which I have
     already set up so you should be able to bookmark or sub the tabs if
     you'd like because it will most likely take me a week or so to get
     the first chapter out on the new part.
     This chapter is Sherlock's POV, describing how he plans to keep John.
     This chapter took me a bit longer than normal because I did a lot of
     research on UK ID papers. I'm sure there are going to be a few loop
     holes or something I missed, so if it is a very important detail I
     would appreciate any and all corrections you can offer and I will fix
     it. However, if it is just a tiny nitpick I would still like to hear
     it but I can't promise I will fix it quickly(:
     Anyways, thank you so much for keeping my spirits up while writing
     this, you all are the reason I decided to come up with a sequel. I
     hope you enjoy this update!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                            Chapter 10 – I Got Mine
“Good night, my love,” Sherlock whispered over the unconscious body lying in
his bed. The body was his now, his, and now it was time to ensure no one would
ever take John away from him. The detective licked the boy’s cheek once, buried
his nose in the soft blonde hair for a moment to see if the scent had changed
any, and then turned off the light on his way out of the room. Sherlock had
given the teenager the proper dosage of his homemade sedative, which he’d
tested out on himself many times, in order keep his boy asleep for 10-15 hours.
However, the detective had been planning this moment ever since he talked to
the boy on the phone and knew it would only take six hours to complete his
possession. 
The first order of business was to construct the suicide note of one John
Hamish Watson, age fourteen. Ever since he was a boy in year two of primary
school, Sherlock had become a master at handwriting forgery; stemming mainly
from having to forge his mother or father’s signature or parent note when he
got into trouble or didn’t want to participate in one of the school’s
ridiculous field trips or projects. Now, he was able to copy any form of
handwriting to the letter as long as there was a proper example for him to use.
Luckily, there were at least a dozen forms with every character lying on their
coffee table, all written by John.
He put on gloves, making sure to barley touch the sheet of paper as to not
provide incriminating fingerprints. However, Sherlock doubted the police would
suspect anything but suicide once he set the puzzle pieces into place for their
little minds to find. He examined the forms one by one, in awe of how John’s
personality was evident in the way his letters stood up straight, no slant left
or right. Ah, my beautiful John. So loyal and reliable.After a few moments of
taking in the graphology and style of the handwriting, Sherlock began to write
as John.
Dear Mum,
            I know I am being selfish but I cannot live in a world that doesn’t
accept me for who I am. I know it may come as a shock to you but I have never
been happy. There is no point in living anymore, I’ve tried, I really have but
I just cannot find happiness. My one regret is leaving you alone but the
darkness has been consuming me for too long and it is too much for me to bear.
            In the end, no one would accept me for who I was and I thought if I
created a friend it might help me get through high school. It didn’t, my friend
from college wasn’t real, I wish to God he was but he too was just a lie I told
myself and you. I love you so much.
            I don’t want you to have to worry about a funeral or anything, it
costs too much and it’s not worth it for me. That’s why, by the time you read
this message, I will have swam out into the English Channel as far as I could
go. I will leave my board on the beach near the Portsmouth Pyramid Centre, so
if you get it back would you please give it to Mike, I know he really likes it.
Please mum, I know this is going to be hard but you have to forget about me and
move on with the rest of your life and try to be happy.
Love always,
John H. Watson
Sherlock finished up the note, looked it over to make sure every letter was
perfect and then brought it into where John was still sleeping soundly. He
placed his gloved hands over the boy’s soft shoulders and ran them up and down
a few times, feeling the warm friction they created together. Pushing back the
wonderful thought of having John drugged and pliant under him and ready for the
taking, Sherlock worked meticulously placing the boy’s finger prints all over
the note, the envelope, and finally pulling out the small tongue and licking
the adhesive. “Good boy John,” he whispered down with a sweet smile.Okay, maybe
just a taste.Sherlock put the boy’s suicide note on the small table so he could
lie his body down completely over the small limp form on the bed.
He placed his ear to the small tan chest, listening to the heart beat that gave
his possession life. Life that was now his, well, would soon be his, in every
way. Yes, John would be upset at first that he wouldn’t see his mom again or
his friends but he would soon learn, just like he did in the shower last night,
that his Sherlock is all he needs. “Mine,” he licked over the tan neck,
relishing in the sweet salty mixture that John provided for his pleasure.
Once he had his hit, the detective leapt up, pulled on some presentable
clothes, and began texting a friend in his homeless network as he walked out of
the flat with the note in a bag, John’s shoes, mobile, and longboard.
Sherlock: Do you have the school paperwork?
Juliet: Yes, where do u want to meet?
Sherlock: On my way to Southampton. Meet you in Hyde Park 30 min.
Sherlock hailed a cab and made his way to their meeting spot and began texting
another contact.
Sherlock: Do you have the new ID papers for me?
Tim: Yes. Meeting place?
Sherlock: The SouthSea Skatepark in Portsmouth. 3 hrs.
Sherlock ran over every part of his plan a dozen times before the cabbie pulled
up to Hyde Park. The detective handed him the money and began walking towards
Juliet, who was sitting on a bench. “Sherlock, hi, how are you,” she chimed
nervously when she saw him coming towards her.
“Fine,” he said dismissively. The sooner he got the formalities out of the way,
the sooner he could go back to John so they could start their life together in
peace. “Do you have the papers?”
“Yes,” she handed him a green folder in a plastic bag. “A brand new school
history for John Franklin Thomas, complete with top marks, school IDs, and a
clean permanent record all the way back to primary.” Sherlock smiled when he
heard the name. He had been up for two nights straight trying to come up with
the perfect name to replace the equally perfect name of Hamish Watson. At
first, the detective thought it would be easiest to give John the last name of
Holmes, but when the boy got older, how would they marry if they were seemingly
related? No, it was best to identify the boy as a God Son from a long lost
friend who died tragically in a fire, or at least that’s what the papers said.
“Perfect,” Sherlock grabbed the precious files and handed his minion 100 quid,
with a fake smile. “I will call you when I need you again. Thank you,” and with
that, Sherlock hailed another cab and was off to Southampton. The drive seemed
like it only took ten minutes as he examined and memorized every aspect of
John’s new identity. Straight A’s, of course,no demerits, of course,Uni bound,
of course.Sherlock ran his hand over the parchment, knowing that this was
John’s true life, not the simple existence he lived in Southampton. No, John
was just wondering around waiting for his lover to come along and save him. And
save him, was what Sherlock was doing while his boy slept peacefully in his new
home, his real home.
“We’re here mate,” the cabby spoke, annoyed that he had to drive so far.
“Thank you,” Sherlock tipped the man generously because he was a generous man.
He grabbed the shoes, mobile, longboard, and note, then hopped out of the car,
the smell of salt water filling his nose.
“Sherlock,” his contact yelled. The homeless man, who really didn’t look like a
homeless man at all, was sitting by a tree just outside the skate park
entrance. “How are you?”
“Fine, do you have what I requested?”
“Yes, it took me a while to find the right people but with the money you wired
they were more than willing to put a rush on the papers,” he laughed and handed
over a large binder with John Thomas’ birth certificate, passport, and his
parent’s death information. Perfect.
“Good, so everything has been taken care of, correct? I’m not going to find out
a month from now that these documents are just for show. You know how I don’t
like surprises, Timothy.” Sherlock glared at the man, who immediately paled and
unconsciously took a step away from the detective. Smart man. Sherlock knew it
was important for the people who worked for him to be reminded who was the boss
every once and a while.
“N-no sir, all these documents have been guaranteed to be authentic. They do
all the data entry and inside work to ensure that John Franklin Thomas is a
real boy,” the man tried to break the tension with his joke but his laugh came
out like a pained sob.
“Very well, now I need you to take these,” Sherlock handed him the longboard,
mobile and shoes, “to the beach, just in front of the Pyramid Centre. It is
important no one notices you, so act very natural and don’t talk to anyone. Is
that understood?”
“Y-yes, sir, be a ghost, got it,” he grabbed the items and scurried off to
plant the evidence.
One last stop.Sherlock pulled out his mobile to see where John’s mother was.
The little green blip was at the WestQuay Centre, so Sherlock grabbed one last
cab and got off a half a mile down the road from John’s old house. As he walked
up, the neighborhood was still as empty as it was the last time he broke in, as
if they were all helping him get John away because they too knew this wasn’t
the place for him. He slipped the note, without touching it, gently into the
post box and made his way, one last time, into the Watson home.
It took no time at all to retrieve the cameras he’d placed in John’s old room,
won’t be needing those anymore, now will we John? He paused in the room
momentarily, imagining all the things John had done in this room and how now he
would be doing them in their bed, with Sherlock. Just the thought of it, made a
shiver run up his spine and his cock twitch; it was time to get home to John.
He locked the house back up and ran down the street to catch another cab. He
was done, it was done, John was his now and no would even dare try to take him
away. This time, the cab ride seemed to take forever. Thoughts of John filled
his mind as he ached for his next taste and oh how it would be brilliant. He
had to be there when John woke up; there was no debating it, no compromising.
His John was about to be born and Sherlock could just imagine the look in his
eyes, the first look of John Franklin Thomas looking up at his new owner. This
must be how new fathers feel in the waiting room,Sherlock thought as the cabbie
made another turn. Yes, he needed to get home right now.
When they pulled up to Baker Street, Sherlock threw the money at the cabbie and
raced up the stairs into their flat. He swore the place smelled different,
sweeter, better, now that everything had clicked into place. His coat was on
the floor in an instant, his shirt, trousers, and pants made a breadcrumb trail
leading from the front door to their bed, where he now loomed over the still
sleeping form. “My sleeping beauty,” Sherlock smiled and kissed the boy softly
on the lips, just like the fairytales.
Sherlock crawled onto the bed, pulling the covers back, exposing his prize with
a gleam in his eye. When he noticed John had a slight smile on his face, his
cock hardened almost painfully fast. John wanted his lover even in his sleep,
and Sherlock would never deny his boy what he craved. So, he straddled the thin
hips, leaned back and began stoking himself over John.
Grunts filled the room as he came closer to the edge just from the smell and
look of the boy below him. Finally, he gave a rough stoke, thrust his hips
forward and came all over John’s chest, the white pearly strips matched
perfectly with the lightly sun kissed skin under him. “Mine,” Sherlock panted
as he massaged his seed into the teenager’s chest. Even going as far as to
trace an ‘SH’ into the white liquid that made its home right over John’s heart.
That’s where Sherlock was now and that’s where he would stay, “forever.”
He laid himself over his boy, pulling John’s arm over his neck and wrapping his
arm over the small chest, intertwining their legs and pressing his nose into
the sensitive skin of the lightly haired armpit of his lover. “I love you, my
John,” he whispered, inhaling deeply enough that the sweet odors filled his
nose and blanketing his mind until he fell asleep holding John Franklin Thomas.
 
Chapter End Notes
     I was having a lot of trouble writing the suicide note, I don't know
     why I just was, so I looked up a few examples and it just broke my
     heart. I know this is probably not needed but I felt like I should
     add this anyway.
     US Suicide prevention hotline number: 1-800-273-8255
     or if you are in another country please visit this website to find
     your suicide hotline number: http://www.suicide.org/international-
     suicide-hotlines.html
End Notes
     I hope you enjoyed the chapter! If you liked what you read, come
     check me out on Tumblr http://nightfall24.tumblr.com/ to see the
     latest updates on my stories.
  Works inspired by this one
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
