Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/951499.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Sherlock_(TV), Sherlock_Holmes_&_Related_Fandoms
  Relationship:
      Sherlock_Holmes/John_Watson
  Character:
      Sherlock_Holmes, John_Watson
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Prostitution, Teenlock, Foreplay, Age_Difference,
      Intimacy, Underage_Prostitution, Fluff_and_Smut, Making_Love, Ginger
      Sherlock, Licking, Biting, Kissing, Nipple_Play, Porn_that_tries_to_have
      plot, This_Is_STUPID, Explicit_Sexual_Content
  Series:
      Part 4 of Cliche_AUs_And_Where_To_Shitpost_Them
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-09-04 Words: 3323
****** I Will Be Nice And Tender ******
by A_M_Kelley
Summary
     Sherlock is a prostitute with an indifferent view on intimacy and
     John is the romantic with a heart of gold that changes Sherlock's
     mind about love.
Notes
     Title taken from Toy Boy by Stuck in the Sound.
     Sherlock is 17 in this story. I realize the age of consent is 16 in
     the United Kingdom but being American I can't help but use an
     underage tag >_>
It's become sort've routine for John. It's a weekly arrangement between him and
Sherlock that he's more than willing to pay for, but here lately it's all been
a waste. While this affair had initially started out hot and heavy, it began to
take a turn for the worst when John just couldn't get into it anymore.
John knew the problem wasn't with him personally. Sure, John was getting up
there in age but he was more than capable of getting aroused. And he knew
Sherlock wasn't the problem either. If anything, Sherlock was more than
stimulating in all senses of the word and even though the young man could offer
him so many things there was one thing John craved more than sex itself. The
one thing Sherlock refused to give him.
Intimacy.
The first time John purchased time with Sherlock the young auburn-haired man
had made his personal rules clear. No talking unless necessary, no rough stuff
without his consent, and absolutely NO kissing. While this initially wasn't an
issue for John, it began to gnaw at his need for romance as their
"relationship" progressed and he kept silent about it until now.
It started like any other night. Sherlock had shown up at his flat, scarf
around his pale neck and his collar turned up against the wind. It had been
raining on his way over and Sherlock neglected to bring an umbrella going by
the state of his ginger locks that were still damp. He stood expectantly in
John's doorway with droplets of water streaking down his young face, waiting
patiently, if not a little antsy, for entry.
John really just had to stop and admire the young man for all his beauty. Those
wet auburn curls sticking to his face, those little drops of water that he just
wants to lick off his cheekbones, and those perfect kissable lips. It's not
fair that Sherlock has a no kissing rule but it's not totally unexpected. A
crying shame, really.
"You do realize that you've paid me to be more than just an object to stare at,
right?" Sherlock asks rhetorically in that monotone voice of his that is
completely devoid of emotion. Like he isn't here to have sex with John for
money.
John mentally shakes his head and steps aside to let Sherlock in, picking up on
the little huff as he strides past him. John can't help but smirk at how
pretentious Sherlock can be at times, especially with his choice of profession.
It's only when Sherlock yanks off his scarf does John realize what he's said.
Sherlock had referred to himself as an object and it sends a pang of guilt to
the pit of John's stomach. But it isn't enough to sway his choice of how he
should spend his Saturday nights.
So instead of making Sherlock's remark a big deal, John lets the night proceed
just like any other time before this. Sherlock's obviously made it clear that
he has no allusions about what he does or why he does it. Although, John's
never really understood why someone as intellectual as Sherlock would choose a
profession as dangerous as this one. Did he desperately need the money or was
he just bored?
After John closes the front door against the force of the wind he turns around
to see Sherlock already walking down the hallway towards his bedroom. He really
doesn't waste anytime, does he? Awfully prompt for a prostitute, John thinks,
then again John hasn't had much experience with prostitutes other than
Sherlock. It wouldn't surprise John if most prostitutes were like this.
While most people took this as eagerness John could see what it really was. It
was still eagerness, of a sort, but a different kind than what would be
potentially desired by a "client". Most of these young people were employed by
a "representative" or "on the clock" so to speak, so it wasn't uncommon for
them to work as quickly as possible. But then there were the type that probably
just didn't want to stick around for too long for the sake of their remaining
dignity.
But like John has said, he doesn't have much knowledge about prostitutes. Just
wild shots in the dark.
John follows Sherlock's retreating shadow into his bedroom and watches the
young man shrug off his coat, hanging it on a coat rack nearby. Sherlock is
already unbuttoning his shirt by the time John's even thought to do the same.
The young ginger haired man casts a gaze over at John when he sees the older
man sit on the bed to take his shoes off.
The look isn't as admiring as John would want it to be but more along the lines
of a deduction. Sherlock stares at him a lot, studies every inch of him, but
John tries not to take this as a sign for something more. Sherlock probably has
many clients of all ages and sizes and is simply curious as to how they differ
from his own appearance.
There's still something in his eye that makes John want to think otherwise.
Like how his pupils dilate ever so slightly when John opens up his front door
or how his irises seem to change color at different points of their coupling.
It's silly to assume that someone like Sherlock is capable of love or even
intimacy, but there's no shame in hoping for a miracle, is there?
Sherlock strips down relatively fast and by the time John is barely getting his
shirt off he has to stop and stare at the beauty before him. The sight of that
bare body all pale and muscled in all the right places never gets old and it
never seems to be enough either. It's not just the sight of Sherlock that gets
John going but how he holds himself. His stance is confident and unashamed and
no where near to being humble.
John is almost envious of his modesty.
John realizes that he's staring because he can see how Sherlock smirks in all
his subtlety. Sherlock is completely bare for all the world to see and John is
barely out of his shirt, but it's just as well. Sherlock makes his way over to
John's side of the bed and drops down to his knees to assist the older man with
his trousers. It's a pleasant sight but John always manages to blush a little
even though he's used to this by now.
Sherlock pops the button of John's jeans open and pulls the tab of the zipper
down with a grace that suggests he's done this a thousand times. And he has,
John thinks idly. There isn't much gentleness in the way Sherlock pulls John's
pants down, along with his underwear, but John doesn't set his standards too
high these days. After all, he's paying for sex.
When his pants and underwear are down around his ankles, Sherlock wastes no
time in putting his mouth around John. It takes John by surprise in the most
pleasant way but it all feels too sudden. Too rushed. And it leaves John
yearning for something more even as Sherlock begins to suck with embellished
enthusiasm.
John tries his best to concentrate on the feeling of that warm mouth and those
perfect lips around him but he can't will himself to become aroused. Sherlock
spends at least a good five minutes trying to coax life into John's cock but
none of his efforts stick, making him pull off prematurely, or belatedly
depending on how he looked at it, with a heavy pant.
"Is this going to take much longer?" Sherlock asks with a little irritation
staining his words. He switches gears and then asks almost seductively, "Do you
need me to use the riding crop like last time?"
While it is a very good suggestion, John has to differ just this once.
"Maybe just..." John squirms to adjust himself better on the bed, pulling his
pants off all the way "...try sucking a little harder."
Sherlock doesn't question any further and bends back down to try again. This
time Sherlock even tries moaning a little, like he's enjoying this, but he
doesn't particularly pull it off and so it does nothing for John. Sherlock
sucks harder and manages to get John half hard but it just isn't enough for
what they had in mind.
For a moment John is embarrassed by his sudden impotency but when he looks down
at the auburn curled beauty that is Sherlock, he finds no judgment or
belittlement in those ever changing eyes. Sherlock wipes his mouth off sith the
back of his hand before standing up and sitting on the bed next to John.
It stays quiet for too long and Sherlock is aware that John wants to say
something, make an excuse like most of his other clients do, but he keeps it to
himself. Going by the shock on John's face, it's safe to deduce that this is
the first time this has happened to John. Even though Sherlock is certain it's
not his fault, he still feels the need to ask.
"Am I doing something wrong?"
John knows Sherlock only asks him this to make it seem like there's a
possibility that it really isn't all his fault why he can't get aroused. The
fact of the matter is John hasn't been in a proper relationship in months now
and he's missing two of the perks of definite companionship. Foreplay and
intimacy.
John can admit that he isn't as young and virile as Sherlock is anymore, he
just needs more time. He needs more teasing and touching and kissing to get in
the mood, unlike Sherlock who can just hop right to it without a second
thought. John needs the prologue before he can get to the verse.
"It's not what you're doing," John clarifies, wanting to reach out and touch
Sherlock but refraining. "It's what you're not doing."
Sherlock quickly assesses John's statement and goes through all the things John
may be referring to, finding little enthusiasm for the end result. Sherlock
looks away and almost sounds a little regretful when he crushes John's silent
plea for pity.
"John, I've told you before that there are some things I don't do. And I really
can't make any exceptions..." He watches John bite his lip, holding some sort
of emotion back. "Look, I can come back next week and--"
"Please," John murmurs, almost pitifully. "Please..."
"John, I--"
"I'll pay extra. I'll even understand it if you don't want to see me again."
The raw emotion of John's admission hits a soft spot inside of Sherlock, though
it's a place buried quite deep inside of him. Sherlock almost feels sorry for
John but it isn't enough to have Sherlock caving, although it's enough to at
least hear John's request out. He owes the man that much.
"I'll pay you double if that's what you want," John tells him, fully ready to
make that leap if he absolutely has to but it's not swaying Sherlock.
"John, it really isn't about the money..."
"I'll triple it!" John vows, turning fully to John now and he doesn't bother to
mask his vulnerability.
"I told you I can't," Sherlock whispers, being honest in all the bitterness it
brings. He never thought he'd feel so much for a stranger but John is stripped
bare, in more ways than one.
"Why?" John simply asks, suddenly serious with his plight long forgotten. "Why
are you so against kissing?"
"It's too intimate," Sherlock gushes, cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. Not
out of embarrassment but because of the hint of challenge in John's voice.
"Intimacy is for couples who are in love. But we're not a couple. I'm just
someone you pay to have sex with so you don't feel lonely."
It all rushes out so suddenly without a second thought as to the repercussions
but even as Sherlock stares wide-eyed at John he finds no malice or resentment
to the statement. They both know it's true so there's no point in sugar coating
it. John simply chuckles ruefully to himself.
"You were just trying to suck me off and you think kissing is too intimate?"
John asks skeptically, laughing even harder. "What is it like in your funny
little brain?"
Sherlock has a comeback for John's assumption but he is at a loss for words
when John suddenly cups the side of his face, wiping away a drop of water off
his cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. Sherlock freezes up and clenches his
jaw at the caring touch. It's far too warm, too intimate, too close.
"Sounds to me like you're the lonely one," John observes, hoping he's right. He
caresses Sherlock's face softly, keeping eye contact. "I could love you. All
you have to do is let me."
Sherlock is left dumbfounded when John picks him up in his arms and sets him in
his lap. Their bare bodies are pressed against each other, much like any other
encounter between them, but this is different. John cups Sherlock's face with
both of his hands and pulls him forward, kissing Sherlock sweetly on those
perfect lips without hesitation. And John thinks that, yes, this does feel
right, he just needs to prove it to Sherlock as well.
So far Sherlock hasn't pushed him away, so John takes that as a good omen to
press onward. He kisses Sherlock again, just as sweetly as the first time, and
runs a hand through his still damp curls. John tangles his hand in Sherlock's
hair and pushes him into the kiss more, making Sherlock gasp enough to let John
invade his mouth with his tongue.
It takes Sherlock by surprise momentarily to the point where he surrenders more
than he really would, but it's welcome. This was the reason why Sherlock made
it a rule to not get overly intimate with clients, because of men like John.
Sherlock has met men like John before who said sweet things and ended up not
meaning any of it. Never again would that happen, Sherlock told himself, but
John... He was different. Or at least Sherlock hoped so.
John broke free from the kiss and Sherlock made a small put off noise, making
John smile just before he bent his head to kiss Sherlock's throat. Sherlock let
his legs fall to either side of John's thighs and arched into the contact more,
craving it. John licked a line up the ginger haired man's throat, stopping to
kiss his lips once again.
"Let me love you," John whispers into Sherlock's ear. He licks the shell of
Sherlock's ear before biting it, not hard but not exactly gentle either. "I'll
be so gentle and tender with you that you'll never want to see another man for
the rest of your life."
And with that, Sherlock melts under John's promises of affection.
"Oh, God, yes," Sherlock pants, letting himself go when John bites the side of
his neck lovingly and soothes it with a lick.
It's all the consent John needs to hear as he lays Sherlock down gently against
the mattress. And while it's nothing new, John has to say that Sherlock looks
even more beautiful sprawled out beneath him now than he ever has simply
because he was allowed to be more intimate.
John starts off slow like he's always wanted to and he takes his time with
Sherlock, licking and kissing and biting his way over Sherlock's pale body. He
captures a patch of skin along the stretch of Sherlock's neck and latches onto
it, sucking hard as his tongue licks tenderly to soothe the sting. Sherlock
whimpers helplessly, pressing his body into John's as he hardens at the tender
sensations.
John runs a hand up the expanse of Sherlock's chest, letting his fingertips
brush over a nipple softly. Sherlock makes a silly noise that is caught between
a gasp and a moan. This prompts John to do it again and again until he just
straight up pinches Sherlock's nipple. It sends tendrils of arousal down
Sherlock's spine and pools just below his stomach.
Sherlock has remained mostly unaffected by their coupling so far but John is
touching and caressing with his hands and mouth and it's just all too much for
Sherlock to bear. He hardens promptly when John sucks more loving bruises into
his collarbone and this time when Sherlock arches he can feel something stiff
and hot brush his erection.
John is just as aroused as he is and that makes Sherlock's heart fill with a
sense of pride unlike any of their previous encounters because Sherlock knows
John isn't aroused by what he's doing. John is turned on because Sherlock is
turned on. Because Sherlock's pleasure is just as important as John's.
Sherlock wraps his arms around John's neck and pulls him closer, wanting more
contact only John can provide him with. There are a few remaining droplets from
Sherlock's drying auburn hair that have set up camp on his cheekbones, begging
to be wiped away. So John does the next best thing, bending down to lick away
the drops of water as Sherlock writhes beneath him wantonly
"Please take me, John,",Sherlock begs breathlessly when John bites his throat
to suck another bruise into his pale white skin. "I can't take it anymore. Make
love to me."
If this was any other time Sherlock would've said "fuck me", which sounded
unnatural coming out of him but he assumed it's what guys liked to hear, but
the fact that Sherlock said "make love" instead made John's body swell tightly
beneath his skin. And who was John to deny Sherlock any further?
John grabbed Sherlock's thighs and hooked his legs around his waist, spreading
Sherlock open fully as he entered him with a gentle thrust. Sherlock moans
loudly, more loud than he's ever let on, and John takes this as a sign of
Sherlock finally being honest with what he feels during sex. Sherlock's head is
thrown back to the point where his neck is arched, bearing all the teeth marks
and bruises John sucked into his skin just moments before.
When John is fully inside of him he reels back to look down at Sherlock in all
his glory. His eyes trail along the expanse of Sherlock's pale body, eying the
lovely shade of pink as a blush washes over him and admiring his handiwork on
Sherlock's neck. Sherlock's lips are curled into a euphoric "O" and John can't
resist the urge to kiss those lips again.
Sherlock is tight and inviting just like any other time, welcoming John to use
him any way he wants, but this time going slow and enjoying every push and pull
his body has to offer. And comparing all the other times to this moment
wouldn't do either of them any justice simply because this is perfection in
it's purest form and that form is Sherlock.
"You have no idea how beautiful you are like this," John admires with a far off
tone, thrusting gently into Sherlock like lovers do. "So perfect. So needy.
It's like you're being torn apart for wanting this."
"John..." Sherlock whines as he claws at John's back, begging for more.
Being told he's beautiful makes him blush an even deeper red but he figures he
can get used to it. John smiles and claims Sherlock's lips once again in a
tender kiss as he makes love to the ginger haired man slowly until both men are
on the verge of bursting from being trapped in their bodies. But they both hang
on until the climactic end when their bodies just give out from a mix of
pleasure and exhaustion.
And if Sherlock hangs onto John too tightly that night it's because he never
wants to let go of something he could've had all along.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!