He took John’s hand and pulled it to his face, only pausing to taste his palm. He was certainly feeling oral today. Oh God John, don’t go there. Sherlock knew he needed to start slowly. Kissing was fair enough.
Good God, this one was so deep and slow. He immediately found himself relaxing against him, his body overly warm from the contact he’d been sharing with his double and his hands soothing as a thumb stroked his jaw and another five fingers smoothing over his chest. He felt him take his lower lip into his mouth, sucking gently enough that it was pleasant, but hard enough that he could feel blood rushing to the surface—and other places.
John suddenly realized he was standing again, and didn’t recall ever moving in the first place. The thought disappeared from his mind as quickly as it arose.
Another hand threaded into his hair, and he realized the clone had walked over, brushing his hair from his face and moving to his side. He kissed him on the cheek, and John felt his Sherlock’s hand move from his chest and wrap around his clone’s waist, pulling him in.
Sherlock took his mouth away, leaving John panting for breath he hadn’t realized he’d been missing and looking up at him expectantly. He could feel blood pounding through his lip, and somehow the dull thud made it that much better.
His clone cupped his jaw, turning John towards him. Why’s he-? Oh. The other Sherlock kissed him, lips soft and sweet against his. The contrast was astounding; his Sherlock had taken control, had won the battle against his lips and taken the prize of his racing heart and blown pupils. This Sherlock was kissing him tentatively, waiting for him to act and waiting to submit.
He took his hands from his Sherlock, moving to the bare torso of the other. His Sherlock knew without having to be told to back away, just inches, but enough that John could grab the clone, pressing him to his lips. His hands moved, one to his jaw and the other to his hips, and he felt a low moan rumble into him.
“I think I should have my own name,” the clone said breathlessly when they pulled away. “To distinguish myself from your Sherlock.”
“What—do you have to talk about this now?” John tried to kiss him again.
“No, you’re right, we should figure out what to call you,” interjected Sherlock.
John sighed with frustration. “Can’t you just both be Sherlock?”
The two Sherlocks (or not…) shot him a unanimous glare.
“No, John, you can’t just call us by the same name! We are obviously two different handsome geniuses.”
“Okay well we can just call you—” he pointed to the original, “—Sherly, and you—” he pointed to the other. “—Lock. Or something.”
Another dirty look. And not good dirty.
“That would be completely idiotic, John.”
“Got any better ideas?” he asked sarcastically. “After all, you two are the geniuses.”
The Sherlocks grinned at each other. The original kissed him softly on the mouth, whispering against his lips.
“Sit down, John.” No sooner had he said it than had the clone pushed at him, and John allowed himself to be pushed into the chair.
“Oh God, what are you up to now?” Both Sherlocks knelt in front of him, and John felt blood rush to his cheeks. They both leaned forward, pressing identical kisses on either side of his neck.
He let his head fall back, the symmetrical, warm lips resulting in something odd but pleasurable. He felt one (the clone?) move down to his collarbone, while the other moved to his ear. He felt hands slide onto his thighs, the clone’s thumb stroking while the original’s moved higher, rubbing at his hip.
“You’ll call me…” His hand palmed over the tent in his last layer, and John’s breath caught. He gave a shaky exhale when Sherlock’s voice changed, nearly mimicking his own, and moaned, “Sherlock…” His mouth moved from his ear, leaving him already shaking with want, and began trailing down his torso.
His clone moved up, taking his ear lobe into his mouth and sucking gently before licking along the rim.
“And I’ll be…?” The hand stroking his thigh with his thumb was suddenly grasping him through his underwear, and John stuttered before groaning.
“Mmm… Holmes…” The clone laughed quietly into his ear.
“‘Mmm, Holmes’? Catchy. How about Mr. Holmes? Will you do that for me, John?” His hand was stroking leisurely over him, and he could do little more than nod with a whimper.
“Say it, John. Say it,” ‘Mr. Holmes’ purred.
The two detectives seemed to close in on him, hands running up his thighs and around his hips, and the occasional not-by-accident rub that sparked heated friction against his erection.
John opened his mouth but Sherlock interrupted him.
“Don’t make him call you that, it’s silly.”
The clone shot a glare to Sherlock before hooking his fingers in John’s waistband, suddenly exposing him and forcing him to give a sharp gasp. The morgue was cold. Oh Good God he was about to get a blowjob in a morgue. Just shut up, John. There’s two of him, he can do whatever the hell he wants. The clone’s lips moved down his chest with quick, eager kisses, pausing at his hips.
“It is not.” They sounded like whiny children. “It’s not silly, is it John?” Two pairs of icy eyes landed on him once again with a troubling intensity, and he felt more than saw the clone’s hand snaking up towards his groin.
“Er—I—” He bit his lip as he felt the clone wrap his fingers around him. “Oh, um, n-no, I g—no, Mr. Holmes, not at all.” He interrupted himself with a long, drawn-out moan, the end of his sentence changing completely when he felt lips close around his head.
“Oh, wow. Okay. This is—this is good.” He felt another tongue at the base of his cock. He shut up and threw his head back with a whine that he would be vehemently denying later.
The clone continued to suck on the head of his cock as the other tongue dragged up and around him. ‘Mr. Holmes’ teased the underside of his head, lips pressing a kiss that was definitely going to be playing itself over in his head in the very near future.
“Oh, God, Sherlock—I th-thought you were a… a virgin—” He whimpered at the feeling of the detective’s tongue meeting his clone’s, and he tried desperately not to imagine it…And failed miserably. He shuddered at the feeling of both tongues moving together against him, but he had to open his eyes when there was suddenly neither. To neither his surprise nor his disappointment, he found their lips locked together in another small battle for dominance. Before he could selfishly mourn the loss of their mouths, he gave a sharp gasp when two hands simultaneously moved from his thighs to his shaft, Sherlock’s thumb playing around his head and ‘Mr. Holmes’ giving long, languid strokes.
The original Sherlock finally pulled away from his clone and looked up at John. He kept one hand on his groin, and the other rose to thread through his hair. He pulled him into an open kiss, and at the same moment he felt his heart swell with affection towards this ridiculous man, he felt something else swell as he realized he could taste himself on Sherlock’s lips. He pressed against his lips, trying to get more of the tongue that had just teased his lip, but Sherlock pulled away, leaving him gasping for air.
“John, I spent three years waiting to do this. I had plenty of time to do my research.”
At that moment ‘Mr. Holmes’ decided to gently scrape his teeth against John’s throbbing erection and his response was reduced to nothing but a moan.
“And I’m just a quick learner, Doctor.” The clone laughed quietly, and if John hadn’t been looking at Sherlock Holmes (or a copy of him, anyway), he might have even described it as a giggle. The giggle surprised him so much, he didn’t even notice that ‘Mr. Holmes’ had called him ‘Doctor’ until his head sank back down on him, taking most of him into his mouth and sending warmth pulsing through him.
His Sherlock kissed him again, this time a soft peck on the lips before sinking back down next to his double. He watched with a grin as his clone’s lips moved over John’s length. They hollowed slightly with every movement, and in the back of his mind Sherlock made a mental note of how much it emphasized his cheekbones. He grinned wider in amusement at the fact that yes, he’d just considered the fact that the performance of oral sex was flattering on himself.
On a whim, he grabbed his clone’s chin between his fingers, pulling him off of John and looking at him with an intensity that John could nearly feel.
“There’s just a simple problem.” John couldn’t tell if Sherlock was speaking to him or to his clone, and decided to just stare at them instead. As if he could put a sentence together in this state anyway. Thankfully, he didn’t have to respond.
“Do you think John’s caught on yet?” The smirk on his face was audible, and the smirk on the original’s was loud and clear.