A/N Hey My Lovelies!!!! So....After several weeks and lots of begging...you all have gotten your wish....THE PLAN HAS A PART TWO!!!! Finally eh? lol...Hope you like it!!!! Keep your eyes peeled on my Mystrade Oneshot book for the second half of Mystrade's POV...SMUT WARNING!!!!! Enjoy<3

John hurried down the stairs to Sherlock's room, hesitating just before he reached the door. Stepping into Sherlock's room would change everything, would finally push them past that line they had been dancing around for so bloody long.

He took a steadying breath and crossed the threshold, flinching when the door was slammed shut behind him.

John found himself being slammed against a wall, the breath getting knocked from his lungs as the lanky detective pressed against him, latching onto his neck and sucking harshly.

"Sher-Sherlock-" The detective growled and pinned his hands against the wall, pressing a knee between John's thighs, immobilizing him against the wall. John's hips bucked, seeking contact, but Sherlock's knee kept him firmly in place.

Sherlock's lips and teeth worried at the marks previously left by Greg, sending John's mind into a tailspin. He gripped the front of Sherlock's jacket and pushed the taller man away just enough to get some leverage, then propelled himself and Sherlock off the wall and towards the bed. Sherlock yelped in shock as he fell back onto the bed.

John placed a hand on Sherlock's chest and climbed onto his lap, pinning him to the bed.

"God, you're gorgeous like this." John whispered, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to Sherlock's lips, pulling at the buttons on the other man's suit. "Can't believe I waited this bloody long for this."

"Yes, quite stupid on both our parts." Sherlock was breathless as he surged up, catching John's lips in a rough kiss. "Stop talking." John chuckled and pushed Sherlock's shirt off his shoulders before tugging his own over his head.

He guided Sherlock back to the centre of the bed, taking care not to break the kiss. Once Sherlock was in place, John moved his attentions to Sherlock's neck and chest. He made sure to leave marks. Greg hadn't been wrong, he liked leaving marks on his partners.

He made his way down to Sherlock's trousers and tugged at the buttons, pulling them open and mouthing at the hardness he found there.

"J-John-"

"Hush, Love. I've got you." John swallowed thickly and started pulling Sherlock's trousers off, taking his pants with them. He froze once Sherlock was naked before him. He had never been with another man like this, the farthest he and Greg had gone was a decent snog.

"John?" He was snapped out of his thoughts by Sherlock's voice.

"Yeah, sorry. This is just, a bit new to me."

"What, you never sucked Geoffrey off?" John tried to glare at Sherlock, but he felt a blush darkening his cheeks and saw the realization fill Sherlock's face. "Wait, you and Lestrade never-"

"No."

"Then why-"

"To make you and Mycroft jealous." Sherlock furrowed his brow and John rolled his eyes. "Greg has a thing for Mycroft and neither of you were making any moves, so we decided to give you a little nudge in the right direction."

"So, it was a trick?" John nodded, hiding his face in his hands. "Do- Do you actually want this, John?" Sherlock's voice was soft a shaky and John's head instantly popped up. He crawled up so he was straddling Sherlock's hips again and pulled the other man up for a kiss, licking eagerly into his mouth.

"Oh, Babe, of course I want this. More than anything. I just- I'm not sure what I'm doing." Sherlock grinned and kissed John again, wrapping his hands around the back of his thighs and flipping them so he was lying above John.

"Then let me." He whispered against John's skin as he moved his lips down, sucking dark marks against his skin. "I want to erase every trace that George ever touched you."

"You know, you're making me sound like a slag, saying all those different names." John could feel the eye roll he received and chuckled, but Sherlock's lips closing around one of his nipples quickly derailed that train of thought.

Sherlock continued his assault on John's senses, the blogger's hands gripping at the sheet's uselessly. He wanted to touch, but didn't know what Sherlock's boundaries were.

"Don't be shy, John. I like having my hair tugged." John blinked down at Sherlock, trying to remember if he had spoken out loud. "You are practically ripping my sheets, touch if you want." John chuckled, but let his hands wander into Sherlock's curls.

He lifted his hips when he felt Sherlock tugging at his trousers and pants, his breath stuttering when he felt Sherlock's breath ghosting over his erection. When did that happen? He wondered when he noticed just how aroused he had become.

He bit back a cry when he felt Sherlock tease the tip of his member with his tongue.

"Don't hold back John. I want to hear you." His eyes slammed shut and he moaned loudly when Sherlock took most of him down his throat in one swallow. His fingers tightened in Sherlock's hair and he felt the other man moan around him.

He lost track of how long Sherlock's mouth was on him, the pleasure overwhelming his every sense.

The cold, slick press of a finger entering him shocked him back to reality. He tightened his grip in Sherlock's curls and whimpered, feeling his body tense. Sherlock pulled off him with an obscene sound and smirked, pressing soft kisses to his hip and stomach.

"Just relax, John. You're going to love this." John knew, medically, that stimulating the prostate could enhance the sensation of orgasm, but had never tried himself. "Have you ever come like this?" John shook his head, gasping as he felt Sherlock's finger start to move inside him, massaging and slowly convincing his body to loosen.

He bit his lip as Sherlock worked another finger inside him, wincing at the slight burn. He felt Sherlock take him back into his mouth and started to relax.

Suddenly, it felt like electricity was sparking along his spine. His back arched and a sharp cry fell from his lips as his vision went fuzzy. He was distantly aware of Sherlock chuckling, but his brain had turned to cotton and he couldn't form words to respond to the detective.

"Look at you John, falling apart under my fingers. I bet none of your other dates ever did this for you." All he could do was whimper as he felt his hips bucking as Sherlock brushed his fingers against his prostate again. "Come for me John, I want to taste you."

It didn't take too much more stimulation for John to reach his peak, moaning Sherlock's name as he spilled down his throat.

It took longer than he would like to admit to recover, his chest heaving and mind spinning uselessly.

When he finally came back to his senses, Sherlock was hovering over him, his breath ragged and lips swollen. John suddenly became aware of the repetitive motion of Sherlock's shoulder and realized the man hadn't finished yet. He reached down an batted his hands away, cutting off his protests with a kiss as he took Sherlock's member in hand.

He grinned as Sherlock whimpered, sliding his thumb through the bead of precome that had collected at the tip.

"God, you're gorgeous." Praises slipped from his lips as he stroked Sherlock to completion.

He watched in awe as Sherlock came, spilling onto John's chest, stomach and hands. John stroked Sherlock through the aftershocks before releasing him. When he noticed the sticky mess covering his fingers, he was overwhelmed with the need to taste. He brought his hand up to his lips and sucked one of his fingers into his mouth. It wasn't unpleasant, and he found himself deciding that he would be more than willing to taste it again.

"Fuck, John." Sherlock sounded as wrecked as he looked, his eyes wide and breath unsteady as he watched John. "That- don't do stuff like that unless you're ready for round two." John laughed, blushing as he reached for the tissues.

"Does that mean you want this to happen again?" Sherlock sighed dramatically and rolled off John, flopping down beside him and snuggling close. "Oi. No need to be a prat-" His words were cut short by Sherlock's lips pressing against his own.

"Does that answer your question?"

"Yeah, I think so." John grinned and returned the kiss, tightening his grip around Sherlock's shoulders. The detective sighed happily and lay back down, pressing soft kisses to John's chest.

John was on the verge of passing out when he heard Sherlock mumbling against his skin.

"What's that?"

"I said; if I ever see George so much as look at you I will throw him out the window." John laughed, ruffling Sherlock's hair.

"Jealousy is sexy on you. I may invite Greg over for dinner tomorrow night just to see what it looks like in the daylight."

"You wouldn't."

"Pass me my phone."