The Case Of The Pharmasist's Price

Grayson smiled and kissed one perfect, pink nipple, lightly teasing it to tautness. The soft moans from Price vocalised the younger man's pleasure as the older man tasted more of his precious love. Finally he moved his lips upwards and kissed the area above Price's heart. Then he took a succulent morsel of sweet flesh between his teeth, sucked determinedly and gave a little nip that would leave a small mark. With his eyes gleaming, he looked at it, this visual sign of possession, of love. He moved upwards and kissed Price's lips once more.

Price returned the kiss knowing he now bore his lover's mark. Nestling in Grayson's protective arms he was asleep in seconds, a soft smile of contentment curving his lips.

****

That night started a gentle, loving and relaxed pattern for the next few days. Evenings were spent cuddling, talking, kissing and with caressing that grew bolder and bolder. Grayson paced it slowly, and was delighted when Price would shyly initiate something new. His natural curiosity and gradually evolving eagerness made Grayson feel as if he himself was learning how to love, and make love, seeing it through the eyes of his younger lover.

They lay naked together, facing one another. Price's hands were exploring the topography of his lover's strong, furred frame, travelling down Grayson's side, pausing at his waist and then tracing over his hip. In return Grayson's hands ran down the smooth skin of Price's back, resting on his buttocks. Price made a sound of need and inched closer. The move brought his groin into direct contact with Grayson's hip.

A similar sound escaped Grayson's lips as the touch instantly inflamed him. Their caresses had not gone as far as this before. For a time they explored hips and buttocks, but avoided contact with genitals. Grayson was avoiding pressing his hips up, not wanting to startle Price or make the younger man feel he had to do more before he was ready. Making a unilateral decision, Grayson stopped and pulled Price to his chest, kissed him in a slow, sensual melding of the lips, then cuddled him against his chest.

Price already understood that this was Grayson's way of indicating that it was time to stop, and he obediently settled back. He silently gave heart-felt thanks that it had been Grayson who had rescued him and who loved him. Price nestled against the warm solidity of his lover. He was sure he needed to initiate the final step. Grayson was a man of honour and would do nothing Price was not ready for.

"Sleep well, my love," Grayson whispered, dropping a last kiss to the top of Price's blond hair.

"Goodnight, Grayson. I love you," Price replied. As he felt sleep claiming him, a decision was made for the morning.

****

A sensation awoke Grayson, feather light touches, so light he could barely detect them, traced over his chest. The fingers reached his groin, hesitated and then began to retreat. Opening his eyes, Grayson raised one hand to cover Price's.

"You are free to touch me," he said. He met Price's gaze, it was equal parts embarrassment, nervousness and love. Grayson trailed a finger across Price's lips. "Lovers touch each other." He moved to kiss where his fingers had touched. "Now, you were..." Grayson guided Price's hand back down. However, he was careful to place it close to, not on, his rising shaft.

Slender fingers carefully encircled his penis, which was fully erect and beginning to weep tears of pre-come. Price gazed levelly at his lover and, tentatively at first, and then with more confidence, he stroked the eager organ. His movements became bolder as arousal began to take over.

Unable to restrain himself, Grayson made a rumbling sound of pleasure and Price looked at him curiously.

"It feels so good, my love," Grayson husked.

"Truly?"

Grayson smiled at the thrilled tone in Price's voice. Clearly encouraged, Price continued his ministrations. His hand ran up and down the thick shaft, occasionally rubbing over the tip to spread pre-come or cupping and rolling the heavy ballsac beneath. Grayson closed his eyes, enjoying the sensations and letting Price take his time and explore. All too soon, Grayson caught his lover's hand gently, stilling the younger man.

"Did I do something wrong?" Price asked puzzlement in his expressive verdant orbs.

"Not at all," Grayson managed to gasp. "I am close to spilling and I would like us to spill together," he added as he slid an arm under Price, drawing him close. His other hand hovered above Price's erection, which was as alert and eager as his own.

"Yes." The single word was barely above a whisper, but there was no hesitation or uncertainty, only eagerness and excitement. Grayson found that the anticipation of giving pleasure to the young man in his arms was more exciting, more arousing and more sexually intoxicating than anything he had ever done before. Grayson moved them a bit again, making them both comfortable, gathering Price against him, their eyes locked on one another's until Grayson touched his lover's penis, then Price's eyes drifted shut.

"Oh, Grayson," he breathed. The touch was every bit as tender and loving as Grayson himself and Price almost came undone at the first stroke. His mind briefly compared the rough, demanding handling he had endured and then pushed it into the oblivion it deserved. Grayson was sharing pleasure, sharing love and there was no comparison. He relaxed into the touches and quickly matched the rhythm Grayson set, drawing a pleasured gasp from his lover.

It could not last, both men too eager, too close to their fulfilment. Price could sense his impending release. The added joy of being with someone who truly loved him, and whom he adored, during this intimate act was driving him almost to distraction as he desperately tried to keep his hand moving. He was torn between the increasing euphoria he was feeling and wanting to pleasure his lover.

"G...Grayson, I...I..."

"I know, my love." Grayson whispered in his ear. "Relax and spill for me." The older man could feel the building pressure in Price's penis and the instinctive pumping motions of his lover's hips as the young man arched into Grayson's touch. Grayson groaned as he felt Price determinedly increase the movement of his hand on his own manhood.

Within a few more seconds later, Price lost his control as he came.

"Grayson," he cried aloud. Even as his orgasm crashed over him in wave after wave of ecstasy, he managed to continue his strokes on his lover. His reward was a shout from the older man and semen bathing his hand and abdomen, some droplets reaching as far as his chest. The world around him greyed as his orgasm peaked and he lay limp in its aftermath as it finally abated. Exhausted, he buried his head into the broad shoulder under him.

Still gasping from his own intense release, Grayson rolled onto his back, pulling Price on top of him. It took him several moments to regain his breath. He opened his eyes, which had closed during the intense orgasm to see his lover's face wreathed with an almost a beatific glow.

"Thank you, my sweet one. I love you," Grayson whispered, pressing a kiss to the younger man's temple.

"I love you. I never knew it could be so...so wonderful, so fulfilling," Price whispered back.

"I promise our love-making will always be that way, Price," Grayson vowed.

Clutching tightly to the bigger man, Price let himself drift. In Grayson's arms it was as if the rest of the world ceased to exist and nothing and no one could touch them or mar their joy.

****

A rap at their door had Sherlock and John look up. Sherlock was reading and John was updating one of their many scrapbooks of cases.

"There's a gentleman to see you, Mr Holmes," Mrs Hudson announced.

"Show him in," Sherlock said.

His eyes narrowed as he regarded the visitor; the Compte de Lys. Hair of salt and pepper colouring, eyes hooded, grey and cold and thin lips encircled by a moustache and well-trimmed goatee. The man was broad of chest as well as tall and projected an aura of power and strength. His demeanour was arrogant as he strode forward, barely waiting for the invitation to enter as he swept past Mrs Hudson. His eyes locked with Sherlock's and his lips gave a small twist in imitation of a smile.

"Mr Holmes, I wondered if our paths would ever meet," the Count said, his English perfect although accented. "And Dr Watson, of course," he added turning slightly to regard the other man. His lips curved as his eyes devoured the younger man. "The description I received of you did not do you justice."

"Is there a purpose to your visit?" Sherlock asked from between clenched teeth. He wanted nothing more than to simply pick up the Count and toss him from the window like the unwelcome garbage that he was.

"Not so long ago I lost something of mine. I do not take kindly to losing my possessions, especially when they are then kept from me. I know it was here and I have no doubt you know its current whereabouts. I am not ready to give up this possession so easily," the Count said, his eyes sliding back to John once more. "I am certain that you would not want to experience damage... or similar loss to a precious possession of yours, Mr Holmes."

"Any threat to what is mine would be met with whatever action I deemed necessary to ensure its safety, Count. I protect what is mine as well as that which is unable to protect itself from marauding predators," Sherlock said, his voice low and deadly.

"I see," the Count said. He turned to regard John more openly. "You, too, like beauty and elegance, mon ami. It is a shame we will part as adversaries in this case. I am not a man to make an enemy of, Mr Holmes. My reach is long, as those I have defeated will attest."

"Many of those I have defeated are hung or jailed, my dear Count," Sherlock said. "Others will never be found," he added, his voice cold and hard. "Do not underestimate me or my reach and do not assume I would not do anything I believed to be necessary, or fight to my last breath, to protect what is mine."

"I see," the Count responded, his voice bored and dismissive. He moved to stand close to John. "You are truly quite exquisite, and equally quite wasted on one so willing to put you in harm's way."

"I fully endorse everything Holmes has said, Count. I will stand by his side as always."

"A shame," the Count shrugged. "But, c'est la guerre. To the victor, the spoils, Mr Holmes," he added, letting the detective see his blatant leer in Watson's direction.

"Let him go, Sherlock," John whispered soothingly as Holmes stood, fists clenching and unclenching menacingly as the door closed behind the Count.

"If he ever, ever, lays a single finger on you, or harms a single hair on your head, I will kill him, John. You have my promise on it."

Knowing that there was only one thing he could do, John guided Sherlock to their bedroom, before ringing for Mrs Hudson.

"I'm afraid Mr Holmes has one of his migraines," he said softly to the older woman at the door to their room. "I am going to give him a shoulder massage and then leave him to rest. Please ensure we have no visitors unless it is Mr Mycroft, Mr Black or Mr Baker and use the buzzer we installed if you send anyone up. That will give me time to wake Mr Holmes."

"Of course," Mrs Hudson said. "You take care of him and if you need anything, just ring. I'll take care of everything, Dr Watson. You'll not be disturbed."

John smiled as she bustled away. He was certain she knew exactly what they were doing. One of her nephews had his own male lover and they were as much a devoted couple as he and Sherlock. They claimed to be cousins and no one batted an eyelid at their residing together, especially with Mrs Hudson visiting on a regular basis. Locking the door, he headed to the bedroom.

Sherlock was already naked in the bed and John quickly shed his own clothes to join his lover. He straddled the older man, peppering the beloved face with kisses, letting Holmes' hands rove imperiously over his body. They reached behind him, slick and probing and John relaxed, allowing the brusque demand. He knew Sherlock would only be appeased when he was surrounded by and buried inside him, reclaiming what another had coveted.

He felt strong hands cup and spread his nether cheeks. In response he reached back to seat the blunt head of his lover's sex against his opening. With a sigh he lowered himself, accepting inch after inch of hot, hard, thick flesh. Once Sherlock was buried to the root, John leaned forward and began dropping random kisses to his lover's face as the older man's hips pumped steadily and strongly.

He gasped as a demanding hand began to pull almost roughly on his upstanding rod. It took little time before the sharp jabs to his prostate, and the demanding tugs to his flesh, resulted in his crème pumping over Sherlock's stomach as his lover's seed jetted into his contracting channel. As he panted through his release, he was pulled tightly against the older man and Sherlock's tongue possessed his mouth.

When the last of his lover's essence had emptied into him, John was rolled onto his back and he watched, heavy-lidded, as the older man crouched over him, licking him clean. He moaned softly as the pink tongue delved lower, sliding down the crease between groin and thigh, over his depleted sac and then laved sensually and slowly over his entrance. Finally he was gathered into strong arms and he nestled comfortably against his lover.

"I love you, Sherlock. I'm yours, body, heart and soul and only yours," John whispered.

"You are mine," Sherlock said possessively. "As I am ever yours," he murmured, pressing soft kisses to John's temple. "No man lives that touches what is mine. The Count is already a dead man walking," he added darkly as he heard John's breaths become gentle and even.

He held in his arms his most precious possession, his dearest friend, his staunchest ally and the man he loved above all others. John was his saviour, his humanity, the one who had bothered to look beneath the shell of cold logic to find the man starved of love and affection. Without him, Holmes knew he would be little more than a flesh-and-blood, calculating machine.

No one touched, or threatened to touch, John with impunity.

****

The day in the pharmacy had gone well and both Grayson and Price were tired but happy when they retired to their rooms. A warming chicken casserole was in the oven for them and the accompanying vegetables were with it. There was also a cinnamon-scented apple pie for dessert. Grayson smiled affectionately as his lover immediately began to set the table for them.

They sat to the simple, but deliciously filling meal before settling on the small couch and cuddling affectionately. Their intimacy had been growing incrementally over the past few days and Grayson knew Price was building slowly towards a demand regarding their love-making. The older man was more than content to let the younger dictate the pace.

He smiled as Price raised a hand and lightly touched his face, ensuring their eyes met.

"Make love to me?"

The half request and half demand had Grayson smiling. He turned his head and kissed the palm of Price's hand.

"Always," he whispered tenderly. "I will always make love with you." His hands moved to open the shirt that impeded his access to his lover's chest as Price eagerly reciprocated. Their lips met and parted again and again, becoming more heated with each exchanged.

Whimpering softly, Price moved to straddle Grayson's thighs. Taking advantage of the movement, Grayson's lips travelled down Price's neck and chest and began teasing pink nipples. The younger man arched up into the suction, groaning seductively. The older man sucked harder, knowing the plump, ripe nubs were a particular erogenous zone for his lover.

"Want you, Grayson," Price whispered against his lover's ear. "I want you inside me."

These were the words Grayson had longed to hear and he groaned softly against his lover's temple as he felt his sex surge and throb. Urging Price to stand, he clasped his lover's hand and led him into their bedroom. Lovingly, each man finished undressing the other and then they lay together, kissing deeply, letting arousal build unhurriedly. A final kiss to ripe, full lips and Grayson began moving over the slighter body beneath him.

Subconsciously urging his lover on with whispered sounds of delight and arousal, Price shivered, moaned and thrilled as the older man made love to every inch of him. Grayson knew all his sensitive spots, where touches would turn too ticklish and where they would electrify him. His hips began to thrust against Grayson as his nipples were sensually teased with talented lips and teeth. By the time Grayson's kisses had reached his groin, Price was clutching his lover's broad shoulders and panting wetly.

From his vantage point on Price's thigh, Grayson looked up, savouring the sight before him. His lover's eyes had closed and a fine sheen of perspiration glistened on the pale skin. It was beauty beyond comparison or price and it was his, and only his. With something akin to a growl, he lowered his head and engulfed Price's penis in his mouth. As Grayson's warm lips surrounded his lover's flesh he heard Price uttered a soft cry of pleasure. Soft moans accompanied his mouth working the enticing erection and needy whimpers began when Grayson began a steady rhythm up and down Price's eager arousal.

Relishing Price's enjoyment, Grayson used his tongue to tease the tiny slit at the tip of his lover's penis. He probed and lapped, before sliding down to the base, where his lips increased their pressure. When his lover instinctively tried to thrust his pelvis, Grayson held the slim hips firmly, keeping his mate still.

He was in control and wanted to draw things out for a little while. He heard Price whimper faintly as the sweet torture continued. In response he began to move smoothly up and down hot, turgid flesh, sucking and licking, listening delightedly to Price's sounds of increasing pleasure.

Shifting a little, Grayson let one hand release his lover's hip so that he could tease Price's ballsac. He could feel how high and hard its precious orbs were and knew Price was close. There was a familiar change in his lover's breathing, a tension in his muscles. Grayson knew Price's body was racing to ejaculation. He took the solid flesh deep into his throat releasing his hold on Price's hips.

At the sudden freedom to move, Price thrust once, twice, and then his orgasm hit him forcefully. He wailed Grayson's name, shaking as his release was masterfully prolonged. Grayson sucked him rhythmically, eagerly taking all he had to offer. He felt his lover's hands play with his depleting testicles and trembling inner thighs, coaxing yet more tremors out of him. It seemed a small eternity before Price slumped, his climax finally abated.

Swallowing the last few drops of crème, Grayson savoured the taste of his lover's release as he finally released Price's limp flesh from his mouth. A few last, leisurely licks and he looked up. His heart skipped a beat and his sex throbbed ominously. Although Price had looked incredible before, it was nothing compared to the way he looked in post-orgasmic bliss. It was as if his lover was illuminated from within and love shone deeply in the sultry, green orbs. He moved to stretch out beside him, cuddling him close and letting him gather his breath.

"I love you, Grayson. I want to feel you inside me, loving me fully," Price murmured from the cocoon of his lover's protective embrace.

"I love you," Grayson whispered against the top of his head. "I love you with all my heart and soul. I will make love with you as you want, as you deserve. I want us joined in this most intimate of ways, beloved," his lover said reassuringly, stroking the silken skin of Price's back.