Pon Farr

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any of the characters, they belong to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the BBC and any other respective owners.

A/N: I've been trying to talk myself into doing a Sherlock pwp for a long time because I absolutely love them but pwp has always been one of my weak points, but here it is, I hope you like and remember, reviews are like crack to me x

Sherlock was stressed. Of course, Sherlock was generally stressed so John tended to ignore it. Still, there was that worry that at some point Sherlock was going to run himself into the ground but what could John do?

Sherlock never listened to him, there was no point in John even trying any more.

John watched as Sherlock clattered around the flat, flinging science materials across the room and screaming at the telephone to shut up.

John rolled his eyes. Typical Sunday.

John picked up the phone, hoping it was someone calling with an invitation to get him away from Sherlock's foul mood but John's spirits were dampened when he heard Mycroft's voice.

"I take it Sherlock is stressed." Mycroft pointed out, after hearing smashing glass from the other end of the phone line.

"Really? Hadn't noticed." Said John.

"Just look after him, Sherlock gets like this every so often, but he's never had anyone in his life he can talk to about this sort of thing, until you came along."

John could hear the grimace in Mycroft's voice but pressed on nonetheless.

"What do you mean, this sort of thing?"

But Mycroft merely hung up, John shook his head as Sherlock crossed the room.

"Tell my brother to stop checking up on me." Sherlock blurted out without even looking at John.

John didn't even bother to ask how he knew.

…

"Sherlock, that's completely unreasonable!" Lestrade all but shouted at the consulting detective, Sherlock was wringing his scarf in his hands. John's brow furrowed, he didn't normally do that.

"It's completely reasonable." Sherlock shot back, sounding irate. "She 100% killed her daughter, the evidence is conclusive."

"There is no hard evidence, Sherlock." Lestrade began, "we can't just go and accuse a grieving mother of murdering her daughter!"

"Then I'll find you hard evidence!"

Lestrade pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sherlock, if you don't calm down and take this more seriously, then I'm taking you off this case."

Sherlock sent an unreadable look in Lestrade's direction before turning on his heel and walking out of his office, his coat swishing behind him as if it were joining in on Sherlock's pissy mood.

"I'm sorry, Greg." Began John, "I don't know what's gotten into Sherlock."

"He's just Sherlock," Lestrade shrugged, looking tired, "there's no need to explain."

John nodded once before looking out of the office door, Sherlock was already out of sight. "Look, I should..."

Lestrade nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Have fun." The latter was heavily sarcastic and it followed John as he walked out of the office and attempted to find Sherlock. He didn't know why he always followed Sherlock around, even when he knew there was nothing he could do to alleviate Sherlock's mood.

The pair sat in silence in the cab ride home, Sherlock didn't say a word and instead just sat there, eyes closed with his fingers in a steeple in front of his nose.

John could feel the stress and anger coming off of Sherlock's form like it was ghosting over him in invisible waves that had been building up for days now.

John looked over at Sherlock, eyes still closed and that's when he noticed it.

The lump that had formed at Sherlock's groin, pressing against his black trousers, barely noticeable in the evening light.

Suddenly, everything clicked into place and as John forced himself not to stare at Sherlock's erection he realised what Sherlock needed to calm down. He needed an orgasm.

...

It all made sense, what Mycroft had said on the phone, Sherlock's unexplainable anger, of course it all made sense.

It made sense that Sherlock was Sherlock, but every now and then he must need some relief, he wasn't a machine after all.

John actually felt rather silly thinking that Sherlock could go for a long time without having specific needs.

But the other thing was that there was the slightest possibility that Sherlock might not know what was going on, he might not know what he needed and John supposed that he should explain it to him, not only in his capacity as a health care professional but also in his capacity as Sherlock's friend.

So, the next evening when the pair were sitting quietly in the flat, when Sherlock was silently studying a case study and John was sipping some strong tea to work up his courage, he opened his mouth.

"Sherlock."

Sherlock didn't look up from his case study.

John closed his eyes for a moment. What the hell are you doing?

"Sherlock."

"John."

Sherlock still wasn't looking at him and John supposed it was a blessing, there was no way he could get this out with Sherlock's piercing eyes staring right through him.

"Listen, I have an issue...well, not an issue, just something I've noticed...about you...as a medic...and...umm..."

Sherlock was looking at him now, his metallic eyes bright and piercing, John felt his face get warm and hoped it wasn't showing.

"John," Sherlock's forehead was creased, "you think there's something wrong with me?"

"No," said John, "listen, I've just noticed that you're pretty stressed lately and I think I know why."

"Oh, why?" Asked Sherlock, and his face was so innocent John wasn't sure if he wanted to tell him or not.

"Sherlock, I think it's because you haven't experienced any sexual satisfaction in a while."

"What?" Sherlock's hands had left his papers and he had his full attention on John, John decided there was no point pussyfooting around it, he might as well just go for it.

"Sherlock, I think you're stressed because you haven't had an orgasm in a while."

Sherlock didn't move, even the muscles in his face froze, he blinked a few times before he spoke.

"I'm...I don't know what to say."

"I'm speaking completely professionally, of course."

"Yes, I know you are, I wouldn't expect anything less of you, John." But Sherlock's voice was light with shock and confusion.

John decided just to push on while he had Sherlock's attention. "Anyway, it should be pretty easy to remedy, I mean, you're attractive enough."

Sherlock's head snapped to John. "I'm sorry?" He asked.

"To find a woman," John pressed on, "it shouldn't be hard to find a date or a one night stand or something...Sherlock?"

Sherlock had gone completely silent again, staring at the floor. After a moment, he clucked.

"What?"

"Oh, come on, John, you're not an idiot." Said Sherlock, suddenly sounding irate again. "You know I'm not inclined to women."

Oh.

John had had his suspicions about Sherlock's sexuality since the start but after that initial conversation Sherlock had seemed uncomfortable talking about it so he never brought it up again, but now, for Sherlock just to admit it so openly...

Shut up, Sherlock is your friend, just go with it.

"Okay," said John, trying to sound as soothing as possible, aware that Sherlock had just revealed something deeply personal about himself to him. "Well, it shouldn't be too hard to find a man..."

Sherlock shot off of his seat like a rocket, causing John to jolt back.

"I don't need a man." Sherlock informed him curtly, "I don't need an orgasm. I don't believe in any of it."

Wait.

"Wait," began John, "have you never had an orgasm in your life?"

Sherlock didn't answer but he did make an effort to look away.

"Oh my God, Sherlock..." But John cut himself off, of course Sherlock had never had an orgasm in his life. On one hand it was completely insane but on the other it made perfect sense.

And, of course, it explained a lot.

"Well, listen, Sherlock, if you masturbated say, only twice a week it would alleviate so much stress from..."

"Yes, thank you, Doctor." Replied Sherlock, putting emphasis on the last word. Sherlock had turned to face John now and John could see that his cheeks were rosy. John almost felt guilty putting Sherlock through this.

"Look, John, I know that you are only trying to help me, but it's something I've never had any interest in and I just don't think it would help me. Besides..." Sherlock suddenly cut himself short.

"What?" Asked John.

Sherlock looked unsure for a moment. "I wouldn't even know how to masturbate." He finally admitted.
John couldn't stop staring at him, not because he thought he was a freak, but because he was suddenly questioning his own sanity.

Sherlock was his friend, that's why he was about to say what he was about to say, and it wasn't because he'd always found Sherlock insanely attractive. Or at least that's what he tried to convince himself.

"I can show you."

The room was silent for a moment but Sherlock didn't look shocked or taken aback, not like before. It suddenly occurred to John that Sherlock seemed completely in his element when John spoke brashly, like he was thankful for John's help and didn't think he was strange for offering it.

"No thank you, John. I don't think watching you masturbate will really help me achieve anything." John tried not to be hurt because he knew that Sherlock didn't mean what John thought he meant.

"I...I didn't mean that." John continued, standing up but still staying across the room from Sherlock. "I meant..." Jesus what am I doing? "I meant I could masturbate you, as a medical professional."

John could see Sherlock's eyes were calculating, probably trying to assess why his flatmate was suggesting to assist him sexually, but after what seemed like an eternity, Sherlock's features evened out.

"Okay."

"What?" Asked John disbelievingly, "really?"

"Yes," Sherlock nodded, "the joy of you, John, is that I tend to have to do the things you want of me even if I think it won't work. Which it won't."

"Wait," began John, "did you just compliment me or insult me?"

Sherlock laughed lightly and John laughed too, sure he was insane now.

John walked in a daze to his room and took the lube from his bedside drawer that he used to wank and came back into the front room.

Sherlock was sat on the sofa with his legs crossed, eyes closed.

John cleared his throat and Sherlock opened his eyes. He looked at John's face then at the bottle of lube and then back to John, face expressionless.

"What do you want me to do?" He asked.

"Well, the only way this works is if you take your trousers off, but, the whole thing can be more sensual if you're completely naked, you know, from personal experience."

Sherlock nodded once at John and stood, opening the buttons of his purple shirt one at a time, John watched, mesmerised, as the man he had unwanted fantasies about started stripping in front of him.

After his shirt fell to the floor, John found his eyes wandering over the smooth canvas of Sherlock's torso as he reached down and unzipped his trousers, Sherlock looked troubled for a moment and then looked back at John.

"I think I might be more comfortable wearing my dressing gown."

John nodded, trying to look more comforting and less aroused. "Of course, yeah."

Sherlock nodded gratefully but stiffly before walking into his bedroom, John barely had time to think before Sherlock came back out, clad only in his blue silk dressing gown, the sash tied loosely around his narrow waist.

"Okay John, I'm trusting you here."

John smiled. "Sherlock, it's okay, I'm your friend."

Sherlock nodded once and walked closer to John, unsure of what to do.

John had never really had this kind of power over Sherlock and he found it kind of exhilarating, but more than that, Sherlock was genuinely trusting him with something that made him feel very vulnerable and John needed to take care of him, needed to make sure Sherlock felt safe.

John reached down and took Sherlock's hand in his own, making contact with the cool flesh, and lead him to the sofa.

Sherlock allowed himself to be lead and sank back on the sofa, pulling his legs up so he was half lying on the sofa. His dressing gown pooled at his sides, clashing with his alabaster skin, his pink cock lay flaccid against his stomach which was moving slightly with his shallow breaths.

All John wanted to do was tell Sherlock how beautiful he looked but he didn't want to scare him.

"John."

John looked up at Sherlock's face, his strong features framed by his mass of dark curls and his eyes were fixed on John's. His eyes were communicating fear, confusion, insecurity and arousal all at the same time and it was the hottest thing John had ever seen.

John sank to his knees between Sherlock's legs, he reached and placed his hands on Sherlock's chest, Sherlock shivered a little.

"Sorry," said John, removing his hands, "they're a little cold." He rubbed his hands together.

"No, it's fine." Said Sherlock softly.

John began to rub small circles on Sherlock's chest with his fingers, Sherlock closed his eyes and John took that as an insight to carry on, he began to sweep his hands up and down Sherlock's thighs.

Sherlock's breathing began to even out and become steadier, John rubbed Sherlock's inner thighs soothingly. "How do you feel?" He asked.

"It's pleasant," came Sherlock's voice, "but I wouldn't say I was aroused."

John resisted smirking, Sherlock had a man sat between his legs massaging him and of course that's what he would come out with.

John reached for the lube and squirted some onto his hand, aware that Sherlock was studying his every move.

He moved his hand towards Sherlock's cock, Sherlock's thighs tensed and closed slightly, John looked up to see Sherlock staring down at him.

"Sherlock, it's okay, I promise to be gentle, and I promise you this will feel good and I'll stop the minute you say, okay?"

Sherlock nodded minutely, remembering that John was one of the few people he could trust, John resumed rubbing Sherlock's thighs and, nervous that he was allowing someone to be this intimate with him, Sherlock opened his legs further.

John squirted some more lube onto his hand and reached forward and took Sherlock's cock into his grasp, instead of immediately tugging on him, John began by massaging lazy little circles into the underside of Sherlock's cock, exploring all the little veins that criss crossed on the underside. John had thought about Sherlock's cock before, in all his little fantasies, and what he got wasn't some engorged purple member like in the porn movies, but a lightly pink, almost ivory appendage, soft to the touch. Sherlock's cock was beautiful.

John continued his slight ministrations for a few minutes before he heard a soft gasp come from above him, feeling slightly smug, John looked up to see Sherlock staring at the ceiling and he wondered what could possibly be going through his mind right now.

Confusion, obviously. What am I feeling? Why is my flatmate doing this?

But John hoped that Sherlock was also feeling something towards John, something that proved that all of this wasn't just cold and calculated like every other experiment in Sherlock's life.

John reached for the tube of lube again, wanting to make the experience as comfortable for Sherlock as possible.

But instead of squeezing some into his hand, he instead squeezed it directly onto Sherlock's hardening cock, letting the liquid dribble down to the curls of pubic hair, John watched as the liquid passed Sherlock's groin and dribbled down to the crease in his ass, sliding over his hole.

"John!" It was a quiet gasp as Sherlock arched off the bed slightly, pulling John closer to him with one hand, the other grasping at the couch cushion. John placed one hand on Sherlock's chest. "It's okay," he all but whispered as he wrapped his hand around Sherlock, "I've got you."

And with that, he began to tug slowly, pulling his hand all the way up and then sinking it all the way back down again, making sure every inch of Sherlock's erect member got the same treatment. Sherlock moaned again, loudly, his head hitting the back of the sofa.

John felt a strange sort of high at doing this, this was the first time, the very first time Sherlock had felt this feeling and John was the one doing it.

John felt himself get hard in his jeans but ignored it, instead staring at the head of Sherlock's cock as he twisted his fist slightly, making Sherlock twitch and shiver beneath him.

Sherlock was fucking beautiful like this, laid out bare, shaking under John's touch, fingers flexing like he didn't know whether to push John away or pull him in, one hand covering his face as his mouth opened and closed and let out a string of moans.

John thought he could come just from watching Sherlock, he tugged a little faster.

"John!" Sherlock moaned, snaking a hand around John's neck and bringing his face to his.

John stopped stroking as the enormity of the situation settled on him.

Sherlock stared into his eyes, cheeks flushed, body heaving and it was like time stopped for a moment until Sherlock pulled John closer and kissed him, John moaned softly into Sherlock's mouth, he was confused and unsure and it was the best fucking feeling in the world, Sherlock's lips were soft and pliant and hot like they were on fire, reaching down between them, John grabbed Sherlock's neglected cock again and began tugging hard, twisting his fist every time he reached the head. Sherlock moaned loudly into his mouth and it almost sounded like he was crying with pure intense emotion. Sherlock wrapped his bare legs around John's waist, pulling him into him. John's clothed cock made contact with Sherlock's skin and he moaned at the delicious friction.

Sherlock moaned brokenly and pulled away from John's mouth, John felt cold at the loss, Sherlock was such a beautiful mess in front of him, his eyes were swimming with tears and his cheeks were flushed and his mouth was quivering and all John wanted to do was bite that lip and make Sherlock cry out.

"I'm going to...I'm close..." Sherlock mumbled out.

They were so impossibly close, wrapped up together, so it took nothing for John to reach up with his free hand and stroke Sherlock's cheek, wiping away one of the tears.

"Let go, Sherlock. I've got you."

Sherlock fucking whimpered as his entire body tensed and after a moment of hovering on the precipice John felt his cock jerk and looked between them to see the thick white ropes of come splash onto both of them.

Sherlock's orgasm seemed to go on forever and John gently tugged at him until there was nothing left, he gently let go of Sherlock's spent dick and let it settle against his stomach.

Sherlock looked completely blissed out, so relaxed and so content, the tears drying on his cheeks.

John slowly disentangled himself from Sherlock's pliant body, seeing the come on his clothes.

He looked over Sherlock, laid out on the sofa, body quivering with aftershocks and covered in his own come, his entire body was covered with a sheen of sweat and his hair was a mess, dancing around his closed eyes. The sight did not help John's arousal one bit and he had no idea what they just did or what it meant.

After a few more moments, Sherlock opened his eyes and glanced at John.

"So," began John nervously, the entire thing feeling surreal, "was that okay?"

Sherlock looked to be calculating a moment before he nodded. "Yes," he said finally, sounding breathless, "you were right, masturbation can cause sexual pleasure. However, I don't think what we just did, or how it made me feel, was entirely based on what your hand was doing."

Sherlock attempted a small smile.

"I should go and get changed," said John awkwardly, feeling bad just leaving him after such a thing but also at a loss as to what to do next.

"No, wait." Came Sherlock's voice, John felt a cool hand grasp his and pull him back down so he was cradled between Sherlock's legs. Sherlock stared at him for a moment before he stroked a hand over John's cheek. "Thank you." He said softly.

John smiled and let his head rest in the crook of Sherlock's neck and would have been quite content to stay there until he felt Sherlock's hands opening his jeans.

John pulled his head back and reached between them to still Sherlock's hands, Sherlock stared at him inquisitively.

"No, you don't have to do that." John told him.

Sherlock merely smiled shyly back at him. "Nonsense, I am a very fast learner and am quite sure of what I'm doing now."

John looked into Sherlock's metallic eyes, soft in a way he'd never known before.

As Sherlock pulled John's cock out of the confines of his jeans, John tangled his hand into Sherlock's ebony locks and pulled him into a kiss.