It could be that you’re just not used to it yet, but as I’ve said, I don’t use them, so I’ll pass this on to my more expert followers!
Sex with Sherlock was like nothing he had ever experienced. Being with a string of woman, as Sherlock did point out far too frequently, found John somehow incapable of thinking he could be surprised during sex.
But it was Sherlock, and John should have known better. John could remember before the war,when he lived in a tiny flat above a married couple’s bakery, he ended up in a heated debate with them over the causality of his relationships.
"It’s not casual." John had said, sitting across from them pointing a spoon laden with raspberry cheesecake at the couple. "It’s not casual sex. Linda and I-"
"Do you even know her last name, John?"
"Of course I know her last name!"
"And what about her favorite color, then. Or food?" said the baker’s wife pointedly. "You’ve been ‘in a relationship’ for over three weeks, and you still have to ask her what her dog’s name is."
"It’s Maximilian, how am I even supposed to remember that?"
"You barely pay attention to her, John." the baker said sadly, shaking his head. His wife leaned closer to him.
"I am not with Linda for sex." John said, resolute. "That’s silly. I care about our relationship."
"She’s came round for dinner last night, right?"
"Yes, she did."
"Did you end up eating dinner at all?"
John colored slightly, and busied himself with his cheesecake.
The baker’s wife sighed. “John, dear, we live right below you. These walls are thin.”
The baker took his wife’s hand. “You’ll know, John, when you’re with someone for sex. You’ll know when you truly care about them. It’s two totally different feelings.”
John dropped his spoon. “Honestly, I do care about her. Just because we…see each other often-“
"You’ll get it eventually, dear." The baker’s wife said, smiling. "Make sure you take a bit of the cake upstairs."
Looking back, John was pretty sure that her name wasn’t actually Linda, and he supposed it proved the couple right. Linda wasn’t the best example, fine, but he had relationships. Maybe not relationships by their standards, but he cared about Sarah and the rest. They were all such incredible women, and he had thought he could never find something more, something wholesome, not when all those incredible women were already there.
But then came Sherlock, and as he did with most thing, Sherlock ended up turning his world upside down.
He could make the case(and he had, in his head, back when he was trying to justify fancying his flatmate) that they were meant to be, because John hadn’t slept with Sherlock for years after they met. They were friends, more than friends. They complemented each other. It took a very long time for John to realize why he could deal with Sherlock so well, and vice versa, especially when none of them were very good in the relationship department. Especially when no one else could stand the other.
Now, the sex was a whole other department. The sex was brilliant, the best he could remember, but that wasn’t even the best bit. John could see Sherlock, when they were together, and not only that he could see SherlockandJohn. Everything, their budding friendship to the eventual kiss Sherlock had landed on him behind a doorway on a case. The sex worked because they worked in a way that no one else had managed to bring out in John.
It helped that he was bloody attractive too, but hey.
RUB IT IN OUR FACES BITCH
OH I PLAN TO
YOU PUBLISHED THIS YOU PEON
DON’T TEST ME
I COULD SPILL YOUR DARK SECRET
I HAVE BEEN ON AN EMOTIONAL ROLLERCOASTER LET ME TELL YOU
FIRST I WAS LIKE
CRYING IN A BAR
THEN I HAD A LAUGHING FIT OVER THE EXISTENCE OF EYEBROWS
THEN I GOT REALLY REALLY ANGRY AT LIKE
AND NOW I JUST WANT TO CUDDLE KITTENS