sortinghat_rp | (no subject)

[Sherlock's pace was a little on the glacial and ponderous side, but John couldn't quite bring himself to be frustrated by it. The slow but thorough and satisfying kiss coupled with the warmth of Sherlock's body was worth a little savoring.

When they eventually broke to gasp for a bit of air, John couldn't help himself. He smirked a little.]

So... I hope your touching request isn't all scientific, because it'd be awfully hard to keep my hands to myself.

No, I uh... no.. science reason at all, really. Just.. want to.

[It felt rather naked to be without intellectual curiosity as his excuse but with things as they were, there was no foul in admitting to desire.

He ran his hand up over John's chest, pleased with how supple but firm he felt with well-padded bones and a healthy enough build for the non-athletic. He liked the flat of his stomach as it rose to the crest of his chest then fell to the roll of his shoulders. He liked his the strength of his neck and his arms. And he liked the way John moved when he trailed his large hands down his sides to start all over again to zero in and focus on reaction alone as he kissed his lips and face.]

[For someone so awkward and inexperienced with romance, Sherlock is amazing at this. John leans into and encourages the touches, a bit bowled over by the whole experience. This is easily the most intimate experience he's had, even taking into account the fact that they're both still fully clothed. But it can be even more so.

He gulps, which makes his suddenly dry throat burn slightly.]

I thought about what you said, a while back.

[His voice is a little rough. He clears his throat.]

You can... you can touch the scar. If you still want to.

[Sherlock paused for a moment, looking down at John as though gauging that statement before nodding slowly and helping him out of his shirts. The Hufflepuff jumper he tossed not too far away as he started to undo John's button-down starting from the top buttons. He peeled the open shirt over the shoulder, feeling rather advised to leave the shirt on him in case he recanted and preferred to quickly cover it again.

As much as he wanted to be scientific about it and ask questions as to what it felt like, where the barrier of numbness and feeling started, he did not want to make John overly aware of his intellectual interest in this intimate setting. So he leaned down and kissed the marred flesh as his first touch to the scar, greeting it with the same affection he and John now often greeted each other with.]

[Being blond with relatively fine hair, John doesn't have thick patches of body hair. But he feels the small, thin hairs on his arm and chest rise up at Sherlock's touches. He manages to suppress a shudder, but surely Sherlock must feel the overwhelming thudding of John's heart in his chest.

His breath hitches when he feels Sherlock's lips against the marred flesh on his shoulder. It feels strangely good that the first touch someone else has given his scar is a loving one. Of course, Healers had touched it before, but... that just didn't seem to count.]

It's a bit weird, isn't it? We live in a world where bones can be regrown and all sorts of things, but you still get scars that refuse to fade.

Bones aren't an organ.

[Sherlock kisses the scar one last time before gently running his fingers over it, feeling out the texture which changes from smooth to textured. He kisses his neck to not make his fingers the sole concentration of his attention, nor his shoulder the only part of that region being singled out for inspection.]

[John's breath hitches at Sherlock's ministrations. The scarred flesh at his shoulder came part and parcel with a fair amount of nerve damage. On some days its numb, and the hard knots of the scar scarcely feel like part of him at all. But on others, it's oddly sensitive and prone to extended tingling, sometimes with just contact with his clothes as stimuli. Of course it'd be particularly sensitive today, with Sherlock examining the area with such thoroughness. It's an intense feeling, and the kisses Sherlock leaves along his neck just compounds things. It leaves John almost light-headed.

He gives a small, breathy chuckle, and he really can't help if his voice has gone rather husky.]

Last time I checked, a shoulder's not an organ either. Did they go and rewrite anatomy books while I wasn't paying attention?

Skin, John.

[Sherlock drags his tongue along the tendon of is neck then kisses across his jaw. He hooks one hand around John's arm, long fingers feeling out the other side of the scar and rubbing it in circles that learned the outside contours and wound around towards the center as his lips fell to kiss the forward facing mark once more.]

[John huffs a little at that.]

Think I'm a little too preoccupied for stuff like that to leap to mind, Sherlock.

My mind's... elsewhere.

[He leans his head back and shuts his eyes, letting a long breath out through his teeth as Sherlock's fingers trail over a particularly sensitive portion of the wound.]

Damn. You're much more of a natural talent at this sort of thing than you were with the first kisses.

Touch is easy. Touch is basic. Kissing requires two people.

[He's flush with the praise all the same. He likes that he's not making a mess of this opportunity. He likes that John is enjoying it and hasn't seized up in discomfort but rather fallen back in pleasure. There is no small amount of pride in this accomplishment.]

[Oh, this whole thing could really get out of control. Sherlock is damned good at this, and though he definitely feels a little overwhelmed, it's pleasantly so. John's not reliving the terrible memories, not caught up under the oppressive shadow that gave him the injury. It's, in a word, wonderful.

So much so that his body is dangerously close to kicking his sense out the door and letting... whatever might happen, happen. But he can't. They can't, especially if Sherlock's right that a potion might somehow be involved. And as tempting as it is to just let it go on and make any consequences future John's problem, he just can't. Maybe there's a way to reel these sensual touches back into the realm of science.]

What, ah... what do you make of it? Any deductions buzzing around that head of yours?

It's more sensitive than it looks judging by your reactions. Either that or your experience is more sensual than you anticipated. It's nice. I like the way it stands out against your skin. I like.. how you look. And feel. And smell. And taste. And sound. I like that you can be every sense at the same time.

[He gives the scar a parting kiss and pushes himself up, looking down and enjoying every minute detail to John's expression.]

Is that okay?

It's... definitely a lot more than I anticipated, that's for sure. Some days it's numb as hell, some days it's really sensitive... and then there's now.

[He takes in a long breath, already missing the warmth of Sherlock's lips and hands against his skin and the tickle of his curly hair against exposed flesh.]

It's much more than okay. Dunno how you can say such bloody eloquent things while I'm here hoping I don't trip over my own tongue. But all that you said... I like it too. About you, I mean.

Your tongue could never be in the way. It's my favorite guest.

[He leaned back down to give his lips another kiss, nipping lightly at his bottom lip.]

But I think you need a break.

[John cheeks take on a dark flush at that somewhat odd compliment, but he returns the kiss gladly. Good God, but Sherlock really is a fast learner. When their lips pull away, he gives a breathy laugh.]

That obvious, huh? But... yeah, I admit, this was really overwhelming. In a good way. Such a good way that if we don't slow things down, things might get... well. Even more heated.

Says the man prone on his back by a fire.

[Sherlock smiles, quite proud of himself for being able to elicit a reaction like this. He gets comfortable sitting beside John, stroking his cheek slowly before running his fingers through his hair in a soft stroke.]

I'll have you know that for once that's one pun I didn't intend to make.

[Two can play at this game, Sherlock Holmes. John reaches up and runs a thumb over Sherlock's right cheekbones. He'd noticed them for a while... even before the potion. But noticing isn't nearly as nice as actually being able to touch.]

[Sherlock smiles a little, very much enjoying the feeling of being touched. It's not something he gets much of. Not normally. It feels very nice indeed to feel the warmth and texture of someone else's fingers, sensitive pads that they are, running over skin even in the least of sensitivity. There's always been something very loving in the observation of petting another person's face.]

I'd offer you ice cubes but I believe there are applications for them which would not facilitate cooling off in the least.

[John stops his ministrations with a twitch. A very blatant twitch. It's a gesture of surprise, yes, but not one of disgust. Quite the opposite, really, and his brain needs a second to regroup from Sherlock's statement. How is it possible for somebody with such little physical experience be such a naturally talented tease?]

How... how on earth do you know about that trick? How much reading up have you done since we first kissed?

[Sherlock feels a bit self conscious now. Should he not have?]

I read what was available in the library in the sexual education section. Obviously I haven't had time to read all of it but I think I did alright in my summation of the content.

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