The Adventure at Baskerville Hall & Other Cases

trousers across my groin and added, "I would prefer not to torment myself by wanting something I can't have, at least for now."
    "Oh."
    He looked flattered, and slid a hand across my chest to pluck at my shirt buttons.
    "I thought you didn't do this when you were on a case," I whispered, and could have kicked myself. But he didn't stop, as I had feared he would. Instead he made a thoughtful noise as he continued to work at my buttons and eventually drew the edges apart to spread his hand flat on my bare chest.
    "I don't, usually," he admitted. "In the past, I've always been too absorbed in the work and, since there wasn't anyone, it was irrelevant. But with you..." he paused, searching for the words, and I was moved to cover his hand with my own. "...you're very distracting."
    Coaxing his head down into another kiss, I murmured, "I'm flattered," before our mouths met again.
    This time I did not stop him, and when his wandering hands drew a small noise of pleasure from me he nudged a thigh between mine and cupped his hand over the bulge in my trousers, making me gasp when he squeezed gently.
    "You see what you do to me," I said. I was attempting to sound teasing, but he had begun rubbing his knuckles firmly along my length and it came out more as a groan.
    "I know," he said roughly, pushing his hand under the waistband of my trousers. "Oh God, I know."
    I lifted my hips to give his hand more room to move, and at the first brush of his fingertips across the head of my cock I groaned again.
    "Holmes, I don't ... this may not be the most advisable place to–"
    He silenced my weak protestations with a kiss, even as my legs parted and my hips tilted upwards, greedy for more of his touch.
    His words tickled my mouth, even as he deftly loosened my trouser buttons. "Can you be quiet?"
    I knew why he asked. The inn was rather small, and the general corridor ran along one side of our room.
    "Yes," I breathed back at him. "But do you really mean to – oh God..."
    He had licked a broad stripe across his palm and reached down to take me in his hand, and kissed me hard when I drew in a sharp breath.
    From our first time together, he had shown himself to be as observant in this as in all other aspects of his life, and in a very short time I was thrusting up into his hand, my body shuddering with my impending release. He had not stopped kissing me, even when I was reduced to gasping for breath against his mouth, and when he felt me start to tremble he sped his hand, muttering encouragement to me.
    I writhed, entirely ready to come and almost too far gone to care about discretion, but I forced myself to speak.
    "Sherlock, I'm almost ... oh Christ, yes, that's it, I'm–"
    With a swift, economical motion, he slid down my body and took me in his mouth, and I grabbed the blankets as I came, my back arching as I shuddered and spent myself.
    He suckled me until I was finished, until even the gentle touch of his mouth was too much, and I reached down to cradle the side of his face. He let me slide out of his mouth and looked up at me, looking like the worst sort of hedonist with his dishevelled hair and bright eyes.
    "Good God, man," I gasped shakily. "Come here."
    He obeyed, looking pleased when he saw how breathless I was, and I pulled him into a kiss. I reached down to cup him through his trousers and he pulled in a deep breath through his nose but did not push my hand away.
    For a long while I merely kissed him, feeling him pressing hard and eager into my palm but conscious that he was still tense and uncertain.
    "I would very much like to touch you, if I may," I said, moving my mouth to his temple and speaking my request against his skin. His hips tilted forwards even as he hesitated.
    "You mustn't think that I did that out of any expectation of reciprocation," he said at last. "I just started kissing you and, well, I just wanted to."
    "I know," I said, rubbing the heel of my hand along his length and nuzzling kisses along his jaw. "I'm entirely familiar with the feeling, I assure you."
    I believe that he was on the verge of acquiescing, when a sudden rap on the door made him leap away from me like a scalded cat.
    "One moment," he called, and I realised with a surge of relief that the knock had been not on our bedroom door but on the door of our small sitting-room.
    Holmes quickly tucked his shirt in, made himself presentable even without a mirror, and left, shutting the bedroom door behind him. I scrambled to pull up my own trousers