Sherlock: Before He Became a Consulting Detective

7. A Disastrous Sleepover

Sherlock visited the professor more often at home. Simon found it more and more difficult to keep the promise he made with each visit. Sherlock wakened feelings inside him he never thought existed. The sexual tension building up frustrated him. Each time after a visit, he had to speed back home, to take a cold shower after dropping him at the flat – but not today, not tonight. Sherlock agreed to stay over for the weekend.

Simon stood in the doorway and gazed at him stretched out on the couch, watching television. After six months without sexual interaction between them, except the odd kisses now and again, it was time to break his promise.

He turned around and walked into the kitchen. After placing his hands on the surface of the cupboard, he leaned against it and shut his eyes. He gained Sherlock's trust and he didn't want to lose it due to bloody sex. Simon banged his fist on the cupboard. He stormed out of the kitchen, stopped in the living room doorway and glanced at Sherlock. "I'll be with you in a minute. I'm going to take a shower."

He turned around to look at him. "I'm going nowhere, I promise. Enjoy it." He turned back and while repositioning himself on the couch, his tiny PT shorts moved up exposing his slender, but well-formed, upper thighs.

Simon rolled his eyes while shaking his head and rushed to the bathroom.

Horny as hell, he jumped into the shower and opened the cold-water tap. He gasped aloud when the cold water jetted onto his warm skin. He sighed while glancing down at his erection. The cold water was useless today.

After a few more minutes, he relaxed. He got out, dried himself and put on a baggy tracksuit pants and t-shirt before he returned to the living room.

Sherlock was lying on his back when he entered.

He couldn't stop staring at the man's crotch. He wanted to grab him, undress him and...

Sherlock interrupted his thoughts. "Hey, you're back. How was the shower?"

"Huh?" Simon blinked a few times. "Refreshing," he lied.

Sherlock jumped upright and patted on the seat next to him. "Come watch telly with me. You'll find it interesting. It's about quantum physics."

He sighed inward when he took place next to him. The only thing he would find interesting now, was shagging him. He put his hand on his bare thigh.

Sherlock removed his hand, draping it over his shoulder as he turned sideways to put his head on Simon's lap.

He rolled his eyes – so much for a cold shower. He suppressed another sigh while placing his other hand on Sherlock's head, brushing his fingers through the ruffled black hair, twirling the curls around his fingers.

"Hmm, that feels nice," he murmured. He picked the remote up from the floor, switched the television off and turned on his back. He placed his hand on the side of Simon's face and gazed into his eyes. "I know what you want." He shook his head before he continued. "But I can't give it to you."

"Why not, why won't you tell me what's haunting you?" Simon took the hand from his faced and drew it against his chest. "Every time we kiss, you push me away as soon as it steams up between us. Don't you think after six months I need more than just kisses?"

Sherlock jumped upright. "This is why I don't want to sleep over. The few hours we spent together protected me from this." He glanced at him. "You should find someone who can give himself completely to you, someone without baggage, without issues."

Simon grabbed his arm and pulled him back on his lap. "I don't want someone else, I want you, Sherlock. Don't you understand? I love you."

He shut his eyes after those words. "I love you too..."

"But?"

Sherlock took a deep breath before opening his eyes. "I'm scared."

"Why, is it because of what happened to you in Liverpool?"

He nodded and turned his head away.

"Listen, I'm not going to hurt you. You don't have to be scared of me." Simon sighed. "I, um... I'll be gentle if you just allow me." He moved out from under his head and stood up.

Sherlock glanced at the hand reaching out to him. He hesitated before he took it.

Simon pulled him up. "Come let me show you how gentle I am," he whispered before leading him down the corridor to the master bedroom. He made Sherlock sit down on the bed and sat astride him. He started to kiss the side of his neck. "Don't be scared," he whispered and continued to kiss his neckline. Simon shut his eyes when he became aware of the growing bulge underneath him. His lips came down on Sherlock's mouth. Without forcing, he welcomed his tongue inside his mouth.

Tiny moaning sounds escaped form their mouths as they aroused each other.

Simon took his t-shirt off and dropped it on the floor. "May I," he asked. As soon as Sherlock nodded with approval, he took off his shirt and chucked it aside. He pushed him gently backwards and lay on top of him. His breathing speeded up while brushing his crotch against the bulge in Sherlock's shorts. "Pull up your legs," he murmured.

When he pulled his legs up, Simon took hold of the elastic band and slipped Sherlock's shorts off before he got rid of his tracksuit pants.

Sherlock's eyes enlarged and he gasped aloud, when their bare skin touched.

"Shh, just enjoy it," Simon whispered while panting. "Pull up your legs."

"But my legs are pulled up."

"Higher."

"No Simon, please," he begged.

There was no stopping him now. He lowered his shoulders, forced Sherlock's legs over them and raised his rear end from the bed before he positioned himself on top of him again. "This is what I wanted." His breathing raced. He kissed him again, not noticing the panic in the man's eyes underneath him. Simon came upright, took hold of his erection and tried to enter Sherlock. He looked at him. "You have to relax, love. I can't get it in."

Tears welled up in his eyes. "I don't want you to."

"Why not, this is the best part." He ignored him and tried again.

"Stop it," Sherlock yelled. He hit against Simon's chest, yelling. "Get off me. I don't want to." He yelled again and wriggled, trying to get away. "Get off me." He kicked, missing Simon's face with millimeters.

Simon's eyes enlarged. He let the legs slipped of his shoulders and get hold of Sherlock's arms, pinning him onto the bed. "Look at me," he called out. "Look at my face. It's Simon. I'm not the one who hurt you before."

"Please, let me go. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Sherlock," he yelled. "Look at me for god's sakes." He smacked him across the face.

Sherlock gaped at him, his eyes wild and enlarged.

He jumped up and raced for the door.

Simon jumped off the bed. He caught up with him, threw his arms around him and held him tight. "I am not that monster from Liverpool who hurt you."

Sherlock struggled to free himself. "Let me go. I want to go home."

Simon walked him to the bed and fell down on it with him. "Calm down. You're going nowhere." He didn't relax his grip.

He stopped struggling and sighed. "I can't do this. I told you, you were going to hate me one of these days."

"I won't. I love you."

He relaxed after a while and fell asleep in Simon's arms.

In the middle of the night, Sherlock woke up when Simon shook him. "What's wrong?"

"You were making noises in your sleep. You were having a bad dream. Are you okay?"

He nodded. "I'm just tired."

They nestled against each other and fell asleep again.

In the early hours of the morning, yelling and crying woke Simon. He reached out to wake him.

Sherlock jumped out of bed, breathless. With enlarged eyes, he stared at him. "My nightmares are back."