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Two Simple Sentences	By : IDontKnowWhatImDoing Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 3980 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any associated characters, and do not profit from this work.

Chapter List
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A genius detective and a well-educated medical doctor. One might imagine that when together the two would engage in lengthy multi-syllabled, intellectually stimulating conversations on a wide range of topics.
However since they both were also exceptionally stubborn and tended to behave extremely childish when they didn't get their way, most of their discussions devolved rather quickly, rarely showed any signs of their intelligence and seldom included a word that had more than two syllables.
Their current argument was no exception.
And being that they were both still wearing just their pants in bed, their completely pointless but utterly vital debate also became a stubborn test of wills and wanton displays of distractions.
Once it became clear that John wasn't going to drop the issue, Sherlock had stopped playing fair in his attempts to sidetrack him. In typical unfair fashion, his mostly bare 'just wearing those wonderful silk pants' partner had climb atop him to straddled his waist. Of course this just made John all the more determined to not let it drop until his headstrong partner just god damn admitted it.
So their test of wills took the form of copious amounts of grinding, biting, nail scratching and plenty of moaning between almost mindless banter on a rather meaningless topic.
.. ..
For the umpteen time John asserted, "Yes, you do,"
And again Sherlock retorted, "No, I don't." This time adding in a swivel of his hips, pushing his pelvis into John's erection.
John faltered for just a moment then pressed on between raspy breaths. "It's true…and you know it."
Sherlock pulled out another of his tricks by leaning down and with catlike grace slid his smooth skin up John's chest, purring into his neck, "Mmm… no it's not."
It took him a little longer to catch his breath as Sherlock writhed on top of him. "Oh…god…"
In retaliating he dug his nails deep into Sherlock's pointed hips and thrust up hard, rubbing their erections together. The velvety material of Sherlock's pants making it all the more stimulating. "Just admit…it."
Sherlock groaned deeply against his neck. "N..nothing to admit."
John's brief upper hand was quickly lost however. In his most unfair move yet, Sherlock sat back up again. Leaning far back, supporting himself with his hands pressed into the bed behind him, he arched his body, giving a tantalizing view of his long pale chest, the muscles pulled tight. And the icing on the cake of unfair, he closed his eyes, threw his head back, and rocked his groin slowly into him, moaning loudly. "Oh…John."
Bloody hell there was no way to win against that. John dug his nails harder into those glorious hips, meeting his thrusts, "Fuck…oh my..god…" and was about ready to concede. Sherlock was way more skilled at this game than him.
But his gloating mate couldn't help himself. He tilted his head back down; unable to hide a pleased smile, thinking he had finally won the battle. And that smug look was all John needed to get back into the fight.
Sliding his hands up to Sherlock's shoulders, John forcibly pulled him back down. Giving some unfair back, he raked his nails with expect precision across Sherlock's back, knowing just the right amount of pressure to incite him. "You know I'm right."
Sherlock pressed his head against his neck and sucked in a deep breath, moaning as he released it. He didn't reply for a few seconds, panting and trying to slow his breathing but eventually murmured, "Y..you're completely…wrong."
John started to dig his fingernails into Sherlock's back again while he spoke. "You're just being stubborn."
But it wasn't going to work a second time as Sherlock was too quick for him. Snatching both his arms, he pulled them off his back and gripped John's wrists tight. Before John could try to wrestle his hands free Sherlock pinned them above his head.
Giving him a wicked grin while rocking his hips. "Wrong again. I'm never stubborn."
"Oh...god...Sherlock…just admit it already."
"Nope."
Kissing down his neck, down lower and lower until his lips lightly grazing across John's nipple. Add in Sherlock slowly rubbing his erection against his own and his wrists still pinned above him, John had very little resistance left. "Sherlock…oh..fuck."
Possibly getting too involved into his game of distraction, seeming to forget the point of their discussion, Sherlock licked at his nipple and John's focus returned like the crack of a whip.
"Ha! You just did it again!"
Sherlock growled against his chest.
He couldn't help giggling at his frustrated partner. "Just admit you love licking me."
Refusing to meet his eyes, Sherlock murmuring against his chest. "Never," then he bit John's nipple sharply.
"Oh...Fuck….god...just bloody admit it already."
Another bite. "No."
"Ow….Stop being an arse and just say you love it. You love licking me."
Sherlock still wouldn't look up and John giggled some more. Oh how he hated it when John proved him wrong. "Love it so much you can't not do it, even when you're saying you don't."
He growling again. "You keep this up and I'll never do it again."
"You couldn't if you tried."
Sherlock rolled off him to lie against his side, sliding a leg up his thigh and snaked a hand down to John's pants. Finally looking up he was grinning. "Oh trust me I could."
This was starting to get into alarming wicked tactics as fingers inched lower below his pants, getting ever so close to his cock. John arched back into the bed; those long, skillful fingers were so teasingly close. "Y..you couldn't and you know it."
Sherlock rutting his own very hard erection into John's leg and moved his hand just a tad lower. "Mmm….I could go long enough to make you beg for it."
John upped his own game and ran a hand under Sherlock's pants, moving down further and further, his own fingers now teasing closer and closer between his arse. The other getting a tight grasp of Sherlock's dark locks. "Not a chance."
And with ragged breathing, teasing and touching oh so close to those eager spots, both working the other to their limits of being able to hold back, Sherlock spoke the first of those not well thought-out sentences between groans as John's fingers slipped between his arse, grazing lightly across his entrance.
"I bet I can."
And when Sherlock's fingers ran across the tip of his aching cock, John moaned back the second of them.
"I bet you can't."
For two exceptionally stubborn, more often than not dim-witted, and rather juvenile when it came to being right lover's, those words were nothing but trouble.
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Two Simple Sentences