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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.

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With a light kick to his shin, John broke Sherlock's intense concentration on whatever he was pretending to find so interesting about their broken toaster oven. Shifting his gaze from the dusty pile of parts under the window, Sherlock grumbling under his breath and gave John a scowl for interrupting his attempt to block out the voice currently berating them.
John scowled right back him. Sitting at the kitchen table like a pair of schoolboys getting reprimanded for misbehaving was humiliating enough. Sherlock sitting quietly beside him, letting him take the fall only added to John's annoyance and embarrassment. Oddly the idea that he and Sherlock were being reprimanded by their landlady because of their willful determination to win a pointless bet didn't register as important enough to be concerned with. Instead they both scowled at each other like the complete twits they were.
The only one not scowling was Mrs. Hudson but only because she was too preoccupied with pacing their kitchen and chiding them like an angry schoolmarm. "...it's very inconsiderate for you two…"
Switching from a scowl, John tried pleading silently at Sherlock, trying to get him to say something to her, hoping he could end their scolding since John's apologies to Mrs. Hudson hadn't worked. Taking the hint, Sherlock rolled his eyes and addressed their not very pleased landlady, in exactly not the way John hoped he would.
"Yes Mrs. Hudson, your objections were made perfectly clear the first five times you said them. Repeating yourself doesn't give them any more significance."
Oh for the love of…John eyes went wide as he glared at the bastard then looked apologetically at Mrs. Hudson. She had stopped pacing to finally take her own turn at scowling. "Well since this isn't the first time this has happened Sherlock, it bears repeating doesn't it?"
And so it continued…"Now don't get me wrong, it's perfectly natural for you boys to have a bit of fun but really…"
As shades of red reappeared on John's face, he kicked Sherlock's leg under the kitchen table a little harder and pleaded for his help a little more desperately. And still not helping, Sherlock answered his plea with, "Stop kicking me."
Mrs. Hudson paused in her rant to chastise them both for not paying her mind and then on it went. "...if you can't keep quiet there is an upstairs room…"
Now it was Sherlock's turn to kick him under the table, adding in a smug grin. "She means you."
John buried his face in his hands, mumbling, "Oh my god."
"…if the two of you must carry on like that…"
John tried to hide his blushing face even more, really not wanting to hear this part of Mrs. Hudson's rant again. Grumbling into his hands John made one last attempt to get Sherlock to help. "Please just say you're sorry or something Sherlock."
And Mr. Not Helping At All did say something, something far too loud and not at all to Mrs. Hudson. "Why should I apologize? You're the one that was hollering like a banshee, not me."
Oh my god. John went from hoping Sherlock would help to hoping the floor would swallow him up.

About thirty minutes earlier the last thing on John's mind was the possibility of disturbing Mrs. Hudson in the flat below. He was a bit too preoccupied trying not to holler like a banshee and behaving every bit as an immature schoolboy trying to win their second absurd bet. Closing his mouth tight, repeated to himself over and over, 'I'm not going to lose, I'm not going to lose.'
His mantra was interrupted as Sherlock slowly withdrew from his arse and whispered into his ear with that perfect sultry voice, "You're going to lose." Adding in a sharp bite to his earlobe, John was unable to prevent his mouth from falling open and groaning, "Oh...god," before he could snap it shut. John tried to focus again, biting down hard on his lip. Not gonna lose.
Slowly, oh so slowly, Sherlock slid his cock back deep inside him. Angling his body up from between John's legs, he closed his eyes and with a heavy sigh, swiveled his hips. "Ohhh yes…John."
"Oh f…" Biting his lip hadn't been much help at all. His only saving grace was clamping a hand over his mouth. John whimpered behind his sealed lips. His other hand gripped one of the bars on the headboard tight as Sherlock swaying his pelvis against him.
His beautiful bastard of a lover gave him a wicked smile between his ragged breathing. "Now, now...none of that." Still deep inside him, with his hips still swaying to some unheard music, Sherlock moved a hand to John's wrist before he could react. Latching on tight, Sherlock pulled his hand away and pressing it into the bed. Snapping his hips, Sherlock closed his eyes and purred, "Mmm that's better."
"Oh..my god..." John went back to biting down hard on his lip. Not gonna lose…
Sherlock kept his wrist pinned to the bed, his other hand snaked down his chest and oh bloody hell…at the same time as he thrust deep inside him, Sherlock pinched his nipple. "You're..going to..lose."
Bending back into the bed, John pulled fiercely at the headboard. Oh god..oh god
Sherlock fingers continued snaking down his chest, past his hip and he hooked an arm under one of his legs, hitching it up toward his chest. Able to tilt his body better, Sherlock slid his cock back out making sure to put pressure against his prostrate with an expert skill John would normally cry out in ecstasy over. Mewling between his swollen, bitten lips John arched back into the bed further. Oh god...n..not not gonna lose. Not gonna..oh god
Sherlock released the grip on his wrist and ran his hand across John's head, clutching a tuff of hair between his fingers. Ohgod..ohgod...John bit painfully on his lip. oh god, notgonnalose..notgonnalose..
Clutching a tuff of his hair, the tormentingly slow tease was over. Sherlock began thrusting into him hard, at the same time roughly pulling his head back with the grip in his hair. The pain was both savage and exquisite, coupled with Sherlock driving his cock deep inside him, John couldn't help from crying out. "Ahh…god…Sherlock…oh fu" but just in time he was able to slap his now freed hand back onto his mouth.
Sherlock quicken his pace, bucking faster into him, still propping John's one leg up with his arm, keening and moaning while his finger's pulling tighter in John's hair; John whimpered at the feel of his cock thrusting into him, the wicked combination of pleasure and pain from his scalp. John forgot the words to his chant and just tried to concentrate on keeping his mouth tightly closed, hoping Sherlock wouldn't pull his hand away again.
He didn't, keeping a tight clutch in his hair and that one arm still hooked under his leg, instead Sherlock began driving into him with abandon, groaning with animalist need, teeth biting up his collar bone, fingers in his hair still pulling tighter. John moaned around his fingers, pushing his pelvis up against Sherlock's cock with each thrust.
But when Sherlock licked up to his ear, John knew why he hadn't moved his hand away that second time. He had saved the best for last; John was definitely going to lose. As his thrusts became frantic, the fingers clutching his hair pulling down harder stretching John's neck back into his pillow, that sinful voice moaned into his ear, "John…god..feels so good…you feel so good…",
Oh god oh god. If he had been smarter he would have clamped a hand over Sherlock's mouth instead of his own.
And again, moaning between panting and thrusting, "...oh god...oh god I'm…gonna...come…"
Furiously pumping into him, Sherlock pulled himself up just enough so John could see that carnal, rapturous expression: his eyes fully dilated, a gloss of sweat across his brow, his provocative mouth fallen open around wanton moans with each thrust and then his whole body shuddering, "John...oh yes...I'm...coming…"
John forgot all about keeping his mouth closed, releasing his grip on the headboard and from his lips, he grabbed Sherlock's arse with both hands to push his cock deeper inside him as his lover came. And while Sherlock's body convulsed through his orgasm, he forgot not only what the point of their bet had been but that they had even made one.
John hollered out loud enough to wake the dead. "Sherlock oh fuck...oh fuck…Fuck!" while Sherlock continued to thrust deep as his orgasm released inside him. John writhed under him when Sherlock collapsed atop of his body.
It was only a moment later that he remembered their bet and that he had lost, when the very alerting sound of Mrs. Hudson complaining sharply at the bottom of the stairs pointed out that John had been bellowing 'Fuck' over and over. Apparently John's vociferous loss hadn't woken the dead but disturbed Mrs. Hudson's early afternoon tea with her sister, niece and her husband.

Mrs. Hudson was on her sixth run through of scolding them, fine..fine, scolding John for cursing at the top of his lungs while she was hosting her afternoon tea. Not looking up, his face still red and hidden in his hands, he mumbling low enough so only Sherlock could hear him. "You're enjoying this aren't you?"
"Mm..hmm."
John could just picture the smirk on his face. "You're such an arse."
"Mmm."
And since he never blames himself, John blamed his need for Mrs. Hudson to leave and not embarrass him any longer for what he said next.
"Just so you haven't forgotten Sherlock, you might have won but that just means we're tied."
There was silence from Sherlock while Mrs. Hudson continued on. Still not looking up John had to choke back a laugh as he pictured Sherlock's not very pleased expression. And at the sound of John struggling not to laugh he heard Sherlock's chair scrap across the floor.
He had to choke back the laugh even more when he heard Sherlock graciously apologizing, "Mrs. Hudson we're both very sorry for disturbing you and your company, it won't happen again."
"Well I should hope so."
Lifting his head he watched Sherlock guiding her out of the kitchen plying her with platitudes all the way down the stairs. Finally letting out his laugh when Sherlock bound back up the stairs giving him a treacherous grin. Oh yes, their game of bets was nowhere near finished now.
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Two Simple Sentences