Fic: "Reassurance" Part II

[wave_of_sorrow]

Title: Reassurance, Part II
Author: wave_of_sorrow
Beta: the fabulous ladylovelace
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Holmes/Watson
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,764 for this part (3,682 total)
Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't claim. No money being made.
Summary: Watson is self-conscious of his scars, Holmes reassures him.
Spoilers/Warnings: None
A/N: Fill for a prompt at shkinkmeme

 

Since their first time together a lot has changed between them and by now Holmes is allowed to almost anything with Watson’s body. Almost. There is still that one line that he has never crossed, that Watson has never allowed him to cross. But Holmes is determined to convince Watson to let him do it.

 

“No, Holmes.” Watson is sitting in his armchair as the question is posed for the third time that evening.

 

Holmes suppresses a smile at the vehemence in the doctor’s voice and climbs into his lap instead, hot breath ghosting over Watson’s ear, “Please, Watson,” he murmurs, his voice dark and velvety, “You know how much I love it when you do it to me,” he bites Watson’s earlobe as he shivers, “It’s like nothing else you’ve ever felt,” he tongues Watson’s earlobe, “I promise you’ll like it.”

 

“I said no, Holmes,” Watson’s voice is slightly breathless and he tilts his head back to give Holmes’ mouth and teeth better access.

 

It’s not that he doesn’t want Holmes to fuck him. He wants it quite badly, in fact. It’s just that allowing Holmes this one last act would mean surrendering himself completely. And he’s not sure if he’s ready to do that. But if he’s completely honest with himself, he wants it so badly that whether he’s really ready or not doesn’t even matter anymore.

 

And then Holmes rolls his hips against Watson’s, effectively rubbing his hard cock against Watson’s rapidly swelling one, and breathes a soft please into his ear. And the raw emotion in that one word make Watson nod his head as his mind supplies him with images of Holmes shoving his cock up Watson’s arse. He groans softly as Holmes moans in relief and kisses him hard, teeth clashing as they seek out each other’s tongues.

 

Their kiss grows frenzied, Holmes grabbing at Watson’s head, Watson’s hands on Holmes’ hips, rubbing their cocks together through their trousers. Holmes makes soft keening noises in the back of his throat as the tip of his throbbing cock rubs deliciously against rough fabric, a small wet patch growing there. Holmes wrenches his mouth away from Watson’s, breathing heavily and puts his hands over Watson’s on his hips, gradually slowing down until he’s completely still, straddling Watson’s thighs.

 

He kisses Watson’s flushed neck, his jaw, his cheek, his mouth. Tongues rubbing against each other briefly, “Bedroom,” he whispers into Watson’s panting mouth before getting up and pulling Watson with him.

 

As Watson lies on his back in Holmes’ bed, naked, legs spread and a pillow under his arse, his heart is fluttering nervously in his chest and he feels uncertain of himself, uncertain of what to do. Holmes rubs his thigh reassuringly as he looks him up and down with a hungry look in his eyes, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.

 

“You’re gorgeous,” he mumbles into the crease of Watson’s hip, kissing a trail to his belly button and up his chest and neck to Watson’s mouth.

 

The kiss is slow and gentle; reassuring. And it makes Watson feel a little less self-conscious, his blush slowly fading. Watson wonders idly why he is so nervous now. He hasn’t even felt this nervous during his very first time with a man. But he didn’t have those awful scars back then, his mind helpfully supplies, and he blushes again, shifting uncomfortably as Holmes gets the lubricant.

 

Holmes is back at his side in an instant and smiles at him encouragingly as he pours a generous amount of oil onto his fingers. Watson does his best to smile back and it earns him another kiss. As Watson is distracted by his tongue invading his mouth, Holmes reaches down and wraps his warm, slick hand around Watson’s cock. Watson moans into Holmes’ mouth and arches into the touch. Holmes gives his cock a few hard strokes before breaking their kiss and positioning himself between Watson’s spread legs.

He lets go of Watson’s cock and Watson barely has time to whimper at the loss of contact before Holmes is rolling his balls between his slick palms, squeezing and kneading, occasionally tugging gently. Watson groans and unconsciously spreads his legs a little wider. One hand moves away from Watson’s balls and covers the mass of scar tissue on his thigh instead, which sends a curiously pleasurable thrill through Watson.

 

Convinced that Watson has relaxed enough, Holmes gently nudges his testicles out of the way and rubs a slick, hot finger against Watson’s perineum. Watson jerks and arches his back, groaning loudly as his cock twitches, slick with oil and pre-come. Slowly Holmes slides the finger farther up the crack of Watson’s arse, rubbing the pad of it against his puckered entrance. That is when Watson freezes and his eyes fly open.

 

“Holmes…” he is panting and the protest isn’t much of a protest at all, but Holmes still stops.

 

He leaves the finger where it is, just resting against Watson’s hole, not moving. He strokes an oily hand over Watson’s inner thigh and waits for him to relax. When Watson closes his eyes again he slowly circles the ring of muscle with the tip of his finger, the sensation making Watson moan in surprise. Holmes slides his finger up and down the crevice of Watson’s arse and adds more lubricant.

 

When he feels Watson is less tense and concentrating on the touch of Holmes’ finger alone, he puts it against his entrance again, looking up at Watson and waiting for him to give him the go. Watson nods, breathing heavily, and tries not to tense up again. Holmes pushes his finger against the strong muscle until it gives way and he can slide his slick finger in to the first knuckle.

 

Watson clenches instinctively around the intruding digit, making a startled noise and biting his lip. Holmes rubs the hot skin of Watson’s perineum with his thumb as he slides the rest of his finger inside. Watson wriggles in discomfort, the sensation isn’t entirely unpleasant, just strange and new. Slowly Holmes begins to move his finger to press against Watson’s prostate.

 

Watson’s entire body seizes and he arches off the mattress, his arsehole clenching around Holmes’ finger. His eyes are wide open, staring at the ceiling, as he whisper a breathless, “Bloody hell.”

 

Holmes chuckles, “I told you you’d like it.”

 

For a moment Watson is relaxed and loose and Holmes uses it to push a second finger into him. Watson hisses at the burn and sting of it, but Holmes makes him forget the pain by rhythmically stroking his prostate. Soon enough Watson is reduced to moaning and writhing, pushing himself down on Holmes’ fingers and begging for more.

 

Holmes groans at the sight; Watson’s body is flushed and covered in sweat, his cock is hard and red, pre-come steadily oozing from the tip and trickling down to his balls, Holmes’ fingers are disappearing inside him. Holmes scissors his fingers, parting them in a wide V and holding them, stretching Watson’s tight hole and not allowing him to clench around his fingers.

 

Watson moans loudly and grabs at the sheets, twisting his hands in them ineffectually. Holmes forcefully thrusts a third finger into him and Watson pushes down on it, completely wanton and begging Holmes to fuck him, desperate for Holmes’ cock.

 

With a growl, Holmes retracts his fingers and positions himself between Watson’s widely spread legs. He takes his cock in hand and nudges at Watson’s slick entrance with the head of it. Watson looks up at him, pupils blown and cheeks flushed, and kisses him hard and sloppily.

 

“Fuck me,” he whispers into Holmes’ mouth.

 

With a growl and a loud groan Holmes pushes his cock into Watson’s tight hole. For a second Watson panics, thinking he can’t take it, that it’s too much and he clenches convulsively around Holmes. Holmes squeezes his eyes shut and bites his lip, waiting for Watson to get used to his cock stretching him. Watson tries to breathe through it until the burn fades and suddenly Watson is aware of Holmes’ cock just barely brushing his prostate, tiny sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine.

 

Only when Watson pushes down against his cock does Holmes move. He slowly pulls out before sliding back in, tearing groans from both their throats. He creates a slow, gentle rhythm that has Watson moaning and clawing at Holmes’ sweaty back, throwing his head back in abandon and begging Holmes to take him harder.

 

Holmes complies, hooking Watson’s uninjured leg over his shoulder and slamming into him hard. Watson’s eyes fly open and he gasps, staring at Holmes sweaty, flushed face. Holmes leans down and bites Watson’s bottom lip, their tongues tangling and sliding against each other, though their mouths remain parted. Watson experimentally tightens his inner muscles around Holmes and the sudden tightness makes Holmes throw his head back, gasping for air.

 

He grabs Watson’s hips then, fucking him hard and fast and without finesse. Watson’s throbbing cock is trapped between their stomachs, sticky and hot. Watson loses himself in the sensations then; Holmes slamming into him, hitting his prostate with every thrust, his own cock sliding against their sweat slick stomachs, forgetting about everything else. And it’s almost too much. He’s almost there. He can feel his orgasm building at the base of his spine, but it is just out of reach.

 

And then Holmes leans down and slides his tongue over the scar on Watson’s shoulder. And it is too much. With a shout Watson comes hard, his release covering their chests and stomachs as his cock jerks between them. Holmes clenches his jaw and tries to stifle his sounds in vain as Watson is impossibly tight around him and his come spurts up Watson’s arse.

 

Sweaty and spent, Holmes collapses onto Watson. They’re both panting hard, chest rising and falling rapidly, hearts pounding hard in their chests. Watson strokes a hand down Holmes spine and kisses the top of his sweaty head. Holmes looks up at him and smiles uncertainly as if wondering if Watson truly enjoyed himself.

 

Watson leans down to kiss Holmes, cupping his strong jaw and sucking on his bottom lip. It seems to convince Holmes that, yes, he has positively blown Watson’s mind. Not bothering to clean themselves up, they curl up together, sticky with sweat and come as they are, and fall asleep almost instantly.

 

It’s the first night that Watson doesn’t think about his scars and whether Holmes was disgusted as he was touching them before sleep takes him.