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Sherlock arched, rubbing his body against the one on top of him. They both groaned before rutting against one another, their sweat and pre-come creating delicious friction between them.
Sherlock couldn't believe it. This man, this wonderful amazing man, was kissing him, worshiping his body like this. He had never felt like this, but he shouldn't have been surprised, this man had always caused new sensations to coarse through his body. He probably always would.
Sherlock couldn't think if a reason why that would be a bad thing.
He felt those fingers enter him, stretching and preparing his body with steady and sure strokes. Sherlock wrapped his legs around him and felt him push in, breaching his body for the first time. They moved in time with one another, as desperate for one another as they'd always been, and as they neared towards their orgasms, they tightened their hold on the other. Thick, strong fingers pressed bruises on slim hips. Perfectly manicured nails scratched bright red lines along broad shoulders.
When they finally, finally, came, it was with each other's name on their lips.
"Sherlock!"
"John!"