Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

A Bit Better	By : VulpineBeesKnees Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 3330 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: We do not own/have no affiliation with BBC's Sherlock or ACD Sherlock Holmes. No profit is made from this.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
The day at the clinic hadn’t been nearly busy enough to keep John from wondering how the case was going, and it wasn’t just worry. John loved the thrill and rush of running through London with Sherlock, so after the third case of the flu he found he was actually a bit jealous. Especially after he didn’t hear from Sherlock all day.
After far too long, five o’clock rolled around and John was able to bid Sarah goodbye. Itching for information John finally texted Sherlock while riding in the back of a cab.
On my way home. Still on the case? JW
Yes. Chasing a psychotic murdering rapist through London. Pick up Milk and lube. We are out. -SH
Letting out an exasperated sigh John asked the cabbie to drop him off at the shop down the road from Baker Street before responding.
I’m going to pretend you’re saying that just to piss me off. Stopping off at the shop, I’ll be home shortly. JW
John had collected the two items quick enough, barely stopping long enough to glare at the teenager behind the counter who eyed the milk and lube as though they were somehow related. The shop was only a few minutes from the flat so he walked the rest of the way, still hoping Sherlock wasn’t honestly out rampaging through London.
“Sherlock?” he called out into the flat as he pushed through into the sitting room, heading straight for the kitchen to put away the milk. Binning the paper bag he left the lube in the middle of Sherlock’s chemistry set up, just to be cheeky.
Suddenly a pair of arms wrapped right around his middle, one snaking up to ghost over a nipple through his button down, the other suggestively sliding down to cup John's member through his jeans. Hot breath ghosted against his skin as the large hands teased ruthlessly over both sensitive areas.
"Putting that somewhere convenient? How thoughtful." Sherlock's voice was a low thunder, husky and full of lust. It was the voice he knew could get John hard just from hearing it alone,
"I've spent all day with Lestrade. He's not near as good company as my blogger."
Pressing his growing erection into Sherlock’s hand instinctually, John groaned softly. “I’d hope not,” he joked darkly, “At least you got to do something interesting, clinic was terribly dull.” He placed emphasis on the last word mimicking the way the detective would have described just about everything, but he had been incredibly bored. John had hoped to get pulled into the case when he got home, but this, he thought, was even better.
"Oh my dear doctor, I would much rather do you." He practically growled out the words, pressing his own rock hard shaft against the smaller man's arse, hands sliding under clothes. One gripped his hardening length firmly while the other rolled the dusky nipple between his fingers as he drug his teeth down the side of John's throat, his curly hair tickling the tanned skin.
They hadn’t done anything since the night he’d let the John take him, and Sherlock's attention had been solely on the cold case ever since, frustrated once again by the small pieces of evidence that had eluded him a handful of years back. He knew John would be just as eager for it as he was.
"Would you like that John?" His name is a purr on the detective's tongue.
John’s neck arched back, the back of his head resting on Sherlock’s shoulder as he gasped softly at the sudden skin on skin contact. He could only assume the case was over, and apparently had been stimulating enough to get Sherlock off his cold case kick, John couldn’t have been more pleased.
“Do you even have to ask?” he breathed heavily, grinding back against Sherlock in answer to his question.
The detective let a soft groan roll through his throat at the contact and raised his mouth to John's ear, breath brushing over the sensitive skin. "I want to try something today...." His hand started moving over the doctor's stiff cock, his other hand coming down to pop the button and zip, giving his hand more room to maneuver, pulling him out and stroking with slow, tight pulls just the way Sherlock knew he liked it.
"Let me tie you up?"
It didn’t take long for John to respond. He had thoroughly enjoyed it the last time, although Sherlock hadn’t asked so plainly before. For a moment John considered asking what Sherlock had in mind, but there was something to not knowing that made it all the more exciting.
“I’m all yours.” A mischievous grin pulled at his lips as he said this, a small thrill rushing through him at the thought of surrendering himself to Sherlock.
"All mine..." He repeated, his chest vibrating with the noise. His hands were removed from Johns body and he pointed to the bedroom. "Strip and lay face down on the bed. Do not touch yourself, I will know if you do. I'll be along shortly."
With that said, he stepped back and leaned against the table, his mouth set in a hungry, wolfish grin. He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow waiting for John to obey his command.
John turned to look at Sherlock, a little surprised by the sudden command. He stood dumbly for a moment, hair already ruffled, trousers completely undone, but the detectives expression set him into motion. Nodding curtly at Sherlock, accepting the orders, he tucked himself back into his trousers, and headed for the bedroom.
By the time he was in their room the anticipation had him completely hard, and he quickly stripped down to nothing. Trying to listen for Sherlock as he positioned himself on the bed. It was maddening to lie still and wait, and even though the bed sheets were less than rewarding John found himself pressing his hips into the mattress slowly, itching for any sort of friction.
Sherlock entered the room a few moments later, a sharp swat landing on John's exposed rear when he saw the thrusting hips into the mattress. John started as the stinging hand came down on him, but it stopped his movements quickly. Sherlock set a box on the floor and tossed the lube on the bed beside John.
He pulled a few things from the box and moved towards the bed. His hand brushing gently over the blonde's back. "Hands behind your back, wrap your fingers around the crease of your elbow." His voice was deep and commanding as his hand took a firm grip on the smaller man's arse cheek.
Without a single thought John complied, wrapping his arms back as Sherlock had instructed, it only pulled on his shoulder a bit but the promise of what was to come made John forget that. Distantly he wondered what all was in the box on the floor, but even turning his head John couldn’t see inside it. His fingers wrapped tightly around the opposite elbow lying perfectly still.
Sherlock moaned at the sight of John complying so quickly and slipped forward, pushing a silky rope between his arms and back. It took him a few minutes, but after threading the rope between his arms and back, then up his biceps on both sides, the rope cross crossing, he had John's arms secured tightly behind his back.
"Now roll over." His voice was deep as he let his fingers tickle up John's spine, rubbing his thumb over the muscle in John's bad shoulder. He knew he would owe John a fantastic back rub after this but he decided it was worth it.
A shiver ran down his spine at Sherlocks touch, a soft moan escaping his lips as he tried to press into the fingers ghosting along his skin. When the fingers disappeared and John moved to turn over, it became painfully obvious just how tightly his arms were bound. He had absolutely no mobility in his arms. It was intoxicating, if not a bit frightening. The thrill made him grin up at Sherlock as he maneuvered himself over onto his back with Sherlock’s guidance. His eyes were blown wide with desire, but his brows furrowed slightly in question.
The detective gave him a reassuring but slightly evil smile as he let long fingers trail up the inside of his thigh, the pads of his fingers ghosting over his balls and up the length of his shaft, bobbing and heavy with lust.
"There is something absolutely magnificent about having you bound and helpless to my desire." He said hoarsely. His hand mirrored it's earlier trip, moving back down until it reached his left knee, the one closest to Sherlock. The lanky man lifted and began wrapping the rope around the middle of his thigh. Once it had been looped there thrice, he wrapped the rope around his calf, leaving about a foot of slack between the lengths of his leg. The position would essentially press the knee to the doctor's chest, the flat of his foot parallel to the ceiling if his hips were rolled backwards.
John’s breathing began to pick up, fear winning out in his mind. He mentally wrestled with himself as Sherlock secured his calf, severely limiting how much he could move his legs. It was as if a switch had been flicked, he was still insanely aroused, but he felt like he shouldn’t. This was not like last time, he couldn’t move away, not even if he wanted to. Even still, he was insanely turned on by it, and this was Sherlock, John had to believe he wouldn’t do anything too not good.
When he moved to mirror the pattern on his opposite leg John swallowed thickly, finally deciding it was a bit too much, too quickly.
“Sherlock...” he started cautiously, “I.. It’s a bit much. All this.” He moved his left leg back and forth by his hip, the only real movement he could manage, as if the emphasize when Sherlock had begun to cross the line. John knew he could have just said stop, it would have been simpler, but he didn’t want to stop, just to take a step back.
Sherlock had expected this. He had tucked the silky rope under he the doctor as he had moved, the rope would keep his legs open when he was done tying John up. When John began vocalizing his discomfort Sherlock was above him immediately, evaluating his state by his eyes. He was still insanely aroused but his brain and most likely the part of him that was a soldier was screaming out at the inability to escape. He knew what John needed.
"Kiss me." He said suddenly. His voice was not commanding, but it wasn't a question either. His eyes locked with John's watching carefully for any true signs that this was too much. He knew John would enjoy himself if only he could get over not having the ability to escape. His eyes actually looked a little hurt when the thought that John didn't trust him crossed his mind.
The emotions playing across Sherlock’s eyes as he stripped John’s last defenses down with his penetrating gaze was enough to make John hesitate for a moment. They stayed like that, each trying to understand the other’s true emotions, before John gave in. His features softened as he strained his neck up to press his lips against the others soft cupids bow.
Despite his position the kiss quickly grew heated, Johns body arching trying to reach for more contact. A soft moan from the blonde made it apparent that John was still quite aroused and interested, despite his previous remark.
Sherlock licked one last deep kiss from the doctor’s mouth before pulling away and rubbing his thumb over the doctor’s full, kiss swollen bottom lip. “Better?” he asked placing biting kisses all down his throat before moving to pull the rope tight, pulling John’s left leg open as wide as he could without fear of hurting the smaller man before working to tie it around his thigh. His fingers ghosting along the sensitive skin to drive his lust higher. The increased heart rate and blood pressure would help.
Drawing his bottom lip between his teeth, John’s tongue ran across it’s swollen surface nervously, but nodded surely. As Sherlock finished securing the second leg John felt his chest tighten slightly, his mind battling over the loss of control of his body. That only seemed to heighten his senses, outwardly gasping as Sherlock’s fingers seemed to deny him the touch he needed. He felt heady as desire, mingled with fear coursed through him, unable to react in anyway other than the breathy sounds falling from his lips already.
Sherlock twisted the end of the rope into a tight knot, and let John’s legs fall open with the tension on the rope. Stepping back to the foot of the bed, the detective let out a deep rumbling groan. When he’d decided to do this, he hadn’t thought that John would be so damn gorgeous tied up and totally at his mercy.
“Oh fuck...” he muttered, his hand coming down to palm at his straining member. “John.” Slowly, he let his fingers pop the buttons on his shirts, pale fingers ghosting over his chest as his eyes locked on the doctor’s. When his fingers reached his belt line he pulled his shirt out of his waistband, and unfastened his trousers, letting them hang low on his hips and his shirt hung around his frame. He moved forward again and came around the side of the bed.
“I think having your mouth wrapped around my cock is a delightful idea... what about you John?” he asked his fingers stretching out to caress the blonde’s face.
In the time it had taken Sherlock to undo the buttons John had relaxed considerably, he seemed barely aware of the bonds holding him in place as he pressed into the detectives fingers, humming softly in agreement. It had to be the adrenaline that was making him feel like this, John was sure of it. Everything felt a little detached, heady, but Sherlock was here, so he knew he’d be perfectly fine.
Turning his head to the side he caught one of Sherlock’s long fingers. He sucked on the digit for a moment, his tongue working at the pad of his finger suggestively before pulling away again and letting the pale finger fall from his lips with a small pop.
Sherlock’s eyes were a little unfocused as his finger slipped from those sinful lips. His lips fell open as his breath comes in pants, and his arousal twitched in his trousers. The detective shifted, kneeling on the bed and lifting his cock from his pants stroking it lightly with his right hand as the left threaded through John’s hair, pulling his head closer.
“I’d take that as a yes, but you weren’t particularly convincing.” He rubbed the head of his member over John’s lips, spreading the slight wetness there and watching for that delicious tongue to flicker out and taste it, “Do you really want my cock in your mouth?” His smile was deliberately evil.
“Godyes.” His words slurred together slightly, the heady dizziness making it difficult for him to string his thoughts into anything coherent. His tongue skirted across his lips before jutting out farther to swirl around the tip of the member still on his lips. Half lidded eyes jumped from the cock in front of him to Sherlock’s face, meeting the detectives gaze with hunger and desire as he leaned forward enough to wrap his lips around the tip.
All the breath whooshed out of Sherlock’s lungs as the warm lips wrapped around his member. Shifting his hips forward and curling his fingers around the back of John’s neck, he allowed more of his length to disappear between John’s pink lips.
“Oh god...” he whispered. Holding John’s head steady, he slowly and softly began canting his hips forward, thrusting into the doctor’s mouth, “John your mouth is positively sinful.” Another long low groan filtered through his chest as he felt the head of his cock press against the back of John’s throat. He was careful to keep the pressure light, never pushing too far so as to choke the smaller man, but keeping a delightful pressure for both of them.
John’s eyes fell closed as he easily relaxed. As Sherlock pulled away again the blonde’s tongue flattened against the glans, leaving a familiar salty taste on his tongue and as it was pressed deep into his mouth again John moaned around the flesh. His own member twitched in sympathy. He squirmed against the bonds still looking for contact, but got nowhere, which elicited a second sound, more of a whimper than anything.
That whimper made the detective shudder and press just a little deeper. He could feel the coiling begin in his stomach and cursed to himself before pulling out completely. He patted the side of John’s face and stepped back, removing his clothes completely. Once that was out of the way, he returned to the bed, kneeling between John’s bent legs.
“I’d hate to come too soon.” he said, his fingers brushing down the doctor’s thighs, “But it looks like there’s something you might want.” The fingers ghosted just outside of touching the pulsing member between the doctor’s legs.
“Where do you want my hands John?” he asked.
John followed Sherlock with his eyes, lids fluttering as his fingers just missed the aching member. He was surprised by the question, and again it took him longer than entirely necessary to form a response.
“You know where.” John had meant for the words to hold a bit more venom, but they ended up sounding rather needy. Looking away from the piercing green eyes John pressed his head back into the mattress. He knew the answer would only lead to more teasing, so he followed up with more explicit instructions, his voice even more breathy than before.
“My cock Sherlock. God. Please just touch me.”
Suddenly there was a tight grip on the dripping cock before him. Sherlock grinned as his hand began slowly pumping over the member, his other hand finding the lube and coating his fingers before easily slipping two fingers down the cleft of his arse, pressing them both inside gingerly. With a wicked grin he lowered his mouth and let his tongue lave over the head, his fingers crooking inside of the man searching for his prostate.Once he’d found it, he set up a heady pace, sucking and licking over the head of his cock while ruthlessly stimulating his prostate.
Pulling his head back Sherlock grinned down at John wickedly, before taking his whole length in one fluid motion, swallowing around the hardness tightly, his throat contracting tightly around his cock.
“Ohmygod,” John cried out. His hips attempted to move into the delicious heat of Sherlock’s mouth as he pulled back up, but he simply didn’t have the leverage. He let out another soft sound, almost surprising himself as he continued to whimper and pull against the bonds. In a matter of moments Sherlock had reduced him to a begging mess of sensations. Yes, he thought to himself, he was definitely quite alright with bondage.
Once he’d prepared John enough, he slicked his own cock with more lube from the fresh bottle the other had brought home, and lined himself up. “I knew you’d like it if you tried it.” He said cheekily before slowly pushing inside all the way to the hilt. He let out a long low groan as he did, gripping
John’s knees tightly and using them for leverage.
Once he was fully seated, he gripped the ropes connecting John’s thighs and calves and pushed them back so that his fists pushed into the mattress, John’s knees pressed to his chest, changing the angle and letting him slip even deeper.
“God John...” he breathed, feeling the man’s muscles contract all around him. He started to move then, a slow roll of his hips that quickly escalated. The position made John so tight around him that he could barely breathe. He wouldn’t last long at all like this.
John’s eyes rolled back slightly, lids falling closed as he moaned loudly. It was almost overwhelming how full he felt like this, not to mention he was completely and utterly open to Sherlock in this position. He couldn’t decide what he liked better about the ropes. How they bit softly into his skin, making it feel as though the tension building within him was surrounding him completely, or how it intensified every touch now that he couldn’t respond in turn. By the time Sherlock started moving again he decided he really didn’t care.
Gasps and moans fell from his lips with each new thrust, the angle dragging Sherlock along his prostate each time.The detective felt the entire situation spurring him along much too fast, faster than he’d intended. Releasing one of the ropes, he let his hips keep him pinned in place, and wrapped his fingers around John’s length.
“God you are too gorgeous like this. I won’t last long... fuck..” Letting his head hang low, he thrusts harder, his motions knocking his bedframe against the wall.
“It’s fine,” John groaned, his back arching against the bonds as he moaned again, the combined sensations pushing him closer to the edge as well. “So bloody amazing,” he managed, the words broken between harsh breaths.
Pressing his arms into the mattress he managed to raise his shoulders and head up slightly, curling himself up into Sherlock. He desperately wanted to touch, to feel Sherlock, but the only thing he could do was watch, almost entranced as Sherlock drove into him. The sight of it all hurling him closer to the edge. He dropped back into the mattress, his eyes clenching shut. “Oh fuck, Sherlock…”
“I know John..” he breathed. He let out a cry as John tightened around him with every thrust. His hand sped over the doctor’s cock, desperately trying to bring them over the edge together.
“God just fucking knowing that you can’t move, that you want to touch me and can’t...” he leaned forward, burying his face into John’s shoulder, “It’s driving me mad.” His hips snapped harder, his fingers twisting over the head as he finally let go, crying out loudly into John’s skin as he came deep inside of him. John’s own cry was muffled against Sherlock’s shoulder as his muscles tensed and shuddered. His breath hitched, and he could hardly breath, the aftershocks of the orgasm pulsing through his entire body.
Soft, breathy sounds continued to slip from John, as they both drifted back down, his skin feeling oversensitized. They stayed like that for a few long moments until John began wriggling irritably, the tight ropes not feeling quite as comfortable now that he wasn’t riding high on endorphins. “That was…” John started, struggling fruitlessly for a word to describe it. “Yeah… but I think my arm is falling asleep.”
Sherlock pulled out of John and pressed a soft breathless kiss to his cheek before moving to untie the doctor’s right leg. He gripped it hard in his hands, turning this way and that, examining John’s skin minutely. Then suddenly, he was scrambling off the bed for his trousers. He returned with his phone, settling back on his heels, and dialing a number. He waited a few moments and when the person on the other line picked up he started talking immediately.
“Lestrade, yes the abrasions were from consensual bondage.” he was silent for a moment, “I tested it out on John.” Another moment, “You were the one that asked.”
He hung up the phone and ran a hand over his smiling face and turned to look back at John’s confused face. “You just captured a killer John.” He said with a chuckle.
The confusion quickly turned to rage. He stuttered over his words for a moment, still fighting with the haze that seemed to be lingering over his mind.
“You used me for a case.” It was spoken almost as if John didn’t believe the statement, but the look on Sherlock’s face said it all. “You bloody prick! You tied me up for a damn case!” The headspace he’d fallen into shattered around him, his anger winning out.. He was just short of yelling at Sherlock, not particularly worried if Mrs. Hudson or anyone else heard at the moment.
“I swear to god when I get out of these...” His threat hung in the air for a moment before he wrenched at the bonds, his right foot pulling at the ties on his left leg. “Untie me. Now.” His voice was low and dangerous.
Sherlock’s expression suddenly looked very young and childish. “Not good?” He asked, but he didn’t wait for a response. He untied John’s left leg as well and tossed the rope off towards the box on the floor. “You seemed to be enjoying it.” his curls covered his eyes as he gently pulled the doctor to sit up. He turned him under the pretense of untying his hands but pulled the restrained man against his chest instead.
“Promise you aren’t going to hit me or anything when I untie you?”
John had almost softened at the look on Sherlock’s face, he knew the reasons why this was ‘not good’ were eluding him, but it didn’t make John feel any better.
“No. I’m not promising you a damned thing!” He stopped, let out a deep exasperated breath.
Arms tightened instinctively around the smaller man’s torso. “If it’s any consolation at all John. As soon as I untie your arms, permitting you don’t rid the world of my existence, I planned on massaging your shoulder for you. I’m sure it must be paining you something terrible by now.” He felt like he was digging himself a hole, but he wasn’t about to let John go unless he knew the man wasn’t going to storm off or hurt him.
John’s head fell back against Sherlock’s shoulder as he muttered in disbelief.
“It is going to take so much more than a bloody shoulder massage to make this up to me.” He was no longer yelling at least, just twisting uselessly at the bonds on his arms, his voice an angry growl.
“Now. Untie me.” He turned to shoot Sherlock an icy glare as he spat the last two words again.
Sherlock undid the knots expertly, pulling a few loose bits and the entire thing fell loose around John’s arms. However, the man was across the room before John got his arms free, fleeing from the wrath.
“Oh? And what else must I do to make things up to you?” he asked, “Make tea for a week? Do the laundry?”
John didn’t answer right away, not really certain if those offers were sincere or not. He glared pointedly at the lanky man as he carefully rolled his shoulder, trying to stretch out the muscles again. His mind was working, carefully deciding just how not good Sherlock had really been. The thing was he was right, John had enjoyed it. Obviously he could have fought back if he really wanted to, considering how angry he was with Sherlock at the moment.
Slowly getting to his feet, letting the world settle in place around him, John walked up to Sherlock so that they were almost chest to chest. He felt Sherlock tense, as if waiting for a blow.
“I’m not going to hit you. You’re a sodding idiot, but I’m not going to hit you.” His lips pulled to the side, a little bothered with how easily Sherlock could pull at his heartstrings. “A date. A proper date, with dinner and a movie. And I swear to god if you ever use me for a case again without my expressed permission I will punch you, and I won’t purposely miss like last time.”
That being said he moved back to lay face down on the bed, cringing as he put weight on his shoulder. “Well come on, you did a number on my shoulder.”
Sherlock let out a small breath of relief, but as he moved to straddle the older man's hips and relax his muscles, something at the back of his mind told him that acquiescing to the 'date' was a bad idea.
However, a few days later when he and John were dressed up and sharing a taxi to Angelo's, his mind had softened to the idea. He had called ahead and the large man had saved their normal booth for them. Sherlock sat close and kept his left hand on John's knee all throughout dinner, actually eating a bit for himself just to make the doctor happy.
Angelo was more than pleased to see them, which meant their table had a single candle and was never without wine. John was no longer worried about the bondage incident, in fact he had gotten over the entire ordeal rather quickly. That is after Sherlock had made him countless cups of tea and assured him that he would not do anything case related on their date. John had almost been able to negotiate half of the kitchen for actual living purposes, rather than experiments, but when Sherlock had started moving beakers into their bedroom John changed his mind.
It had however been a bit awkward when John had accompanied Sherlock to another crime scene. The look Lestrade had given him brought a flush to his cheeks faster than anything he could ever remember. He could only imagine how awkward it had been for the DI. Sherlock seemed oblivious to the exchange, which oddly enough helped things return to normal
Dinner went splendidly, as far as John was concerned. He smiled fondly as Sherlock finished a fair portion of his meal. He knew Sherlock had only agreed for his own safety, but it was obvious the detective was enjoying himself. They prattled on about cases, and John spent a good amount of time listening to Sherlock deduce people passing on the street. He was fairly certain the detective just liked hearing the praise, but John was happy to give it.
Sherlock ended up enjoying himself more than he ever thought he would, and he decided that he never wanted the easy, contented smile to leave John's face. When they were done eating, he'd pulled out his wallet to pay for the wine at least, but Angelo wouldn't allow it. With a smile and a firm handshake to the owner, he led John out the door.
The cinema he'd chose was a retrofitted vintage theatre that still had the old projectors, something he knew the doctor would enjoy. It wasn't far enough from Angelo's for them to take a cab or the tube, so he slid his hand down John's arm, twining their fingers together as they walked, just so he could catalogue the expression on John's face.
He purchased their tickets, a black and white film noir mystery, and led the smaller man inside. They were alone, the venue not the most hip of places, but it seemed to fit them better than the million dollar movie screens. He pulled John to a seat in the very center of the theatre, and pushed the armrest up so he could wrap his arm around the blonde's shoulders.
When John had insisted upon the date he hadn’t actually expected Sherlock to go about planning the whole evening, but that only put him more at ease. He really should have known better than to insist upon a movie. They barely made it ten minutes into the film before Sherlock was practically twitching in his seat, deducing every detail of the mystery, grumbling over the lack of innovation when it came to mysteries.
“Not everyone can be as brilliant as you Sherlock.” John whispered, even though they had the entire small theater to themselves. “Now shush, some of us are trying to actually watch the film.” The urgent whisper was not quite as menacing as he’d hoped due to the fact that he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. Irritating as it was, he loved seeing Sherlock’s mind work. John leaned against the detective, idly running his fingers along his thigh as his attention fell back to the screen.
Sherlock groaned and tried to be quiet, he really did, But when the detective made a truly idiotic mistake, Sherlock started throwing pieces of popcorn at the screen.
"No!!! NOOOOO! Of course it's not the fishmonger you idiot!!!" A tight squeeze on his thigh made him start and he turned to look at John's stern face.
"He's being absolutely unreasonable!!" He defended. He attempted once more to focus on the dull movie but he was quickly going crazy with clamping his mouth shut around insults. Then, he had a tantalizing idea, that he was surprised he hadn’t thought of sooner.
With a wicked smirk he leaned down, kissing over John's neck to distract himself from the god awful movie writing. John tried to ignore the warm lips ghosting and nipping along his neck, but when they reached his earlobe an involuntary shiver ran through him. His hand ran along the inside of Sherlock’s thigh, stopping just before the straining fabric and skirting away again, still keeping his gaze focused on the movie.
“You know, you were the one to pick this movie.” John chuckled softly, arching his neck to give Sherlock more room.
"I picked it because I thought you'd like it." He said with a smirk, "So watch your movie, don't mind me..." The detectives tongue and teeth continued down his throat until he slid between spread knees, lifting a hardened member from its confines and taking it deep into his mouth.
- 14
- 15
- 16
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

A Bit Better