it’s been awhile~
John’s mouth at his neck, wet open kisses and Sherlock tips his head back, breath sharp and fast drawn in through his nose. He cups a hand over John’s ass, just below the small dimple, kneading and uses his other to nudge John’s shirt up.
It’s been awhile.
But no, no thinking of that. Not now. Not now that he has John warm and moving and here, in his arms. Finally.
The leather of the chair creaks under John’s grip, ringing alongside the sharp puffs of breath and Sherlock draws John closer so-
Sherlock pauses the same moment the breaths against his shoulder catch, hitch. He doesn’t move, head up, neck exposed, his hands cradling John, doesn’t shift his arousal away from John’s obvious lack of one. He doesn’t shift at the first drop of wetness against his neck or the second.
He only moves when John’s body starts shuddering from more than gasps of air.
Arms come up, wrap around John, cradle him close. He couldn’t be there for three years, could help or comfort. Couldn’t heal the hole he made.
Sherlock rubs the heels of his palms over John’s back, holds him tight and tucks his head into the crook of John’s neck.
"I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…"