Sherlock S Holmes

thescienceofjohnlock: Mrs Hudson’s Herbal Soothers. The...

Wed, 13 Mar 2013 13:57:22 +0000

Mrs Hudson’s Herbal Soothers.

The smoke flowed smoothly down his trachea, Sherlock pulled it down further into his lungs and held it there for a moment before exhaling with a satisfied sigh. He instantly felt better, the tension slowly draining away from his neck and shoulders. This was worth the berating he fully expected to receive from John when he returned from work but until then Sherlock was going to savor every draw of the cannabis loaded cigarette. After all it wasn’t cocaine or any other opiate and the last time he had used it, even John had to admit it mellowed him, making him much more amiable.

Sherlock leaned back against the wall and blew another lung full of smoke out the open window just as he heard footfalls on the stairs.

“I could smell that in the hallway Sherlock. Mrs Hudson isn’t going to be happy.” John started talking before he even reached the doorway and strode to the kitchen dumping the shopping bag onto the worktop.

“Ha! Where do you think I got this from John? Those herbal soothers of hers are magic.”

John chuckled despite himself and flopped into his chair. “At least you’ve got the window open this time.” He studied Sherlock, the man was certainly more relaxed looking now than he had been for weeks, maybe he would even eat and sleep properly after this.

Sherlock drew deeply on the spliff again, stretching his neck up as he exhaled the smoke, the bright sunlight tinting it blue. John marveled at the sight. Sherlock was surrounded by a blue grey halo, his dark curls in sharp contrast to the paleness of his skin and brightness of his eyes.

“You should try it John.” He said with a slight smile touching his lips. “I’d be very interested to see you stoned.”

“I bet you would.” John grinned, he could do with getting out of his own head for a while, their last case had been particularly stressful and the day at the surgery had been full of bad tempered, ungrateful patients. Maybe he would forget about the health issues of smoking and partake for once.

“It wouldn’t be the first time you know.” John said pushing up from his chair and moving to stand next to Sherlock.

Sherlock turned and held out the joint, not really expecting John to take it. His eyebrows shot up as John reached out and plucked it from his outstretched fingers. He watched, fascinated as John brought it to his lips and sucked in a lungful of smoke.

John coughed and handed it back to a disappointed detective. “Urgh that’s why I don’t partake, the taste and feel of drawing it down *cough* isn’t pleasant to an non smoker.”

“But if you could bypass that would you?” Sherlock asked intrigued.

John nodded “Yeah *cough* I suppose I would, once in a while.”

“I have an idea.” Sherlock said with a wide grin.

“Uh oh, now I’m in trouble.” John smiled back.

“Trust me.” Sherlock moved closer and inhaled on the joint again. He stepped closer still and much to John’s surprise slipped a cool hand around the nape of John’s neck. He leaned down, his lips hovering millimeters from John’s and whispered “Inhale slowly.” as his lips parted and he let the smoke slip out of his mouth and into John’s.

Sherlock was gazing at John’s mouth in a way that probably should have made him uncomfortable but it didn’t, he couldn’t take his eyes off the detective’s face. John inhaled gently, slowly and this time he couldn’t even feel the smoke move down his windpipe.

All too quickly that beautiful mouth withdrew and the surprisingly soft hand slipped away from the back of his neck. John was left swaying slightly, leaning forward on the balls of his feet, his eyes half closed. He steadied himself, rocking back and let out a breath that was faintly tinted with smoke.

“Was that more acceptable?”

Sherlock’s voice was deep, resonant and yet seemed too far away, even though he was still standing in close proximity to John.
“Oh yeah, that works.” John almost whispered the words. “Ok I concede, that is a most useful relaxation method.” He sighed and leaned back against the wall on the opposite side of the window, facing Sherlock.
“It’s been a rough day, hell it’s been a rough month.”

“More?” Sherlock asked with slight smile.

“Yeah why not?” John pushed off from the wall and stepped towards Sherlock just as the detective did the same, they were virtually touching.

Sherlock repeated his previous movements. As his hand slipped behind John’s head again, there was a distinct fluttering deep in John’s stomach and he tried not to gasp. He watched intently as time seemed to slow and the pale lips parted as they moved closer and closer. John drew the smoke in as Sherlock let it slip slowly from his mouth. The moment froze, dust motes in the sunlit air stopped in their lazy patterns, the sounds from the street below became muted and hazy. John stretched up and let his lips touch those before him. There was a brief moment of panic as his brain registered what his body was doing and then John watched transfixed as Sherlock’s eyes drifted closed, his dark lashes sweeping downwards and those pale, soft lips pressed more firmly against his own.

John let his own eyelids drift downwards as he reached up cupping Sherlock’s cheek and fell headlong into the best and most wanted kiss he had ever had.

This wasn’t from a prompt but it’s an idea I had floating around my head for a while. I really really like right now but I suspect as soon as I post it I’ll find loads of faults. I’m not going to apologise for the drug use as I know how beneficial cannabis can be for certain health issues, being an MS sufferer. Also on AO3 http://archiveofourown.org/works/709186 please please please leave feedback/comments good or bad. Thanks :)

thescienceofjohnlock: I think I’ve covered both of these...

Tue, 05 Mar 2013 16:34:06 +0000

thescienceofjohnlock:

I think I’ve covered both of these prompts (thanks nonnys) plus bonus red pants!

*AHHHHH*

John looked up from his newspaper, still chewing on a bite of toast. “What’s that?” He asked. It might have been his imagination but Sherlock suddenly looked uncomfortable.

“What’s what?”

*AHHHHH*

“That. What’s that?”

“It’s a text alert. Means I’ve got a text.” Sherlock popped the last ‘t’ and lifted his newspaper, covering his face from John’s view.

John frowned, now he was suspicious and he had to admit intrigued. That wasn’t a usual text tone, especially for someone like Sherlock. It was more than a little suggestive. John finished his toast and tea and got ready for work, deciding that a quick chat with Mrs Hudson before he left might be a good idea.

When John left the table Sherlock retrieved his phone from his dressing gown pocket and swiped the screen. The text was brief, -I’m not hungry, let’s have dinner.- he stared at the small screen, confused as to how he felt about this. He shook his head and slipped the phone back into his pocket just as it rang with a more familiar tone. He swiped the phone again and brought it up to his ear.

“What is it Mycroft?”

“Are you sure you are paying attention to the right person Sherlock?”

“Mind your own business.” Sherlock snapped.

“Believe it or not little brother, your happiness is my business and you’ve danced around this long enough.”

“Yes, thank you for your opinion, now stop bothering me.” Sherlock hung up, threw his newspaper down and strode to his room.

John trotted down the stairs, a little relieved to find the living room empty. He continued on and reaching Mrs Hudson’s door and knocked softly.

“Oh hello dear, everything alright?” She smiled kindly as she opened the door.

“Um… I was wondering of you had time for a quick chat?”

“Of course dear, come on in.”

John sat down on the floral couch and picked at a loose thread on his jeans. God he felt like a stupid teenager asking this but he had to do something to sort out how he felt.

“Er Mrs H, do you know if Sherlock has ever had a girlfriend or….or a boyfriend…anything? Has he ever had a relationship like that?” John asked awkwardly.

Mrs Hudson sat down next to him and frowned slightly.

“I don’t know.” She answered simply. “But…” She paused.

“What is it Mrs H?”

“I think he may be interested in someone.” She tipped her head and smiled at John.

“What makes you think that?” John looked at his hands.

“Oh I don’t know, but he’s different, something has changed recently.” She smiled and clasped his hand. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

John’s head snapped up, he stared at her wide eyed.

“Oh it’s ok dear,” She said patting his hands. “I know you haven’t made up your mind about that yet.”

“Er..thanks Mrs H, I’d better get to work.”

It had been a long day for both of them, ten minutes before the end of John’s shift Sherlock had turned up at the surgery and dragged him off to help with the case. Sarah hadn’t been overly impressed but had shrugged and let him leave early. After a couple hours with Sherlock, chasing around London’s streets, John was pretty exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go home and have a cup of tea. So it was with some relief that he hauled himself up the stairs after Sherlock, ready to fall onto the couch and watch some crap telly for a while.

Sherlock’s nostrils flared, sniffing. “Do you smell that?” He asked walking through the living room to his bedroom door.

“What?” If he was honest, John was too tired to care.

Sherlock opened the door as John stepped up behind him.

“Oh!” John exclaimed “What’s she doing here and in your bed of all places?”

“Good question.” Sherlock turned and walked away, sitting at his desk, he opened his laptop and carried on as of nothing was amiss.

John stood in the doorway watching as Irene slowly awoke. “I’ll just go and put the kettle on.” He said, pulling the door closed as she sat up.

A few minutes later, just as John was returning from the kitchen with a tray of 3 cups of tea, Sherlock’s door opened again and the lithe, graceful of ‘The Woman’ made her way languidly to Sherlock’s side.

“Hello sexy” She purred, running her polished nails over his shoulder.

“The last time you touched me there, you drugged me. I’d rather you didn’t do that again. It wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience.” Sherlock voice was hard.

A painful sensation passed through John guts, he put the tray down a little heavy handed, slopping some the drinks.

“Why exactly are you here?” John asked, not quite concealing the venom in his voice.

“Oh I just wanted to pay a visit to my favourite detective.” She smiled.

“Do you always drug people you like?” Sherlock stood and moved towards her. John had to force himself not to get between them, he sat down in his armchair with a huff.

“Only the really interesting ones.” She replied, stepping closer, so close theirs bodies were touching lightly. She gazed up at Sherlock, lips parted.

‘Christ! Why doesn’t he move away?’ John thought to himself. ‘Why doesn’t he tell her to get lost?’ He watched Sherlock carefully, he saw his pupils dilate, he saw the slight rise in colour in his face and he knew that pain in his own stomach was jealousy.

“I’m very busy Miss Adler, shall I call you a cab?” Sherlock turned and picked up his phone.

“No, I can get my own cab, thank you anyway.” Her voice was clipped, disappointed and John couldn’t help a smile as he sipped his tea.

Some 15 minutes later Sherlock was still sat at his desk and hadn’t said a word about the visitor they had just shut the door behind. Irrationally John was angry, he had no real idea why he was angry except that Sherlock had been very obviously aroused by their guest and this truth was grating on his nerves.

John had finally admitted to himself that he was attracted to Sherlock, quite possibly more than he had been attracted to anyone else in his life and yet he was having a very hard time dealing with this little fact.

The longer he sat there and thought about it, the longer the infuriating git sat there tapping away on his laptop, the more worked up John became.

‘How can the bastard not see it, why doesn’t he say something, he’s not completely blind to this kind of thing. He’s doing it on purpose just to fucking wind me up.’ John seethed silently.

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE” John finally erupted, pushing out of his chair.

Sherlock stopped typing and turned to face him. “Something wrong?” He asked reasonably.

“Why didn’t you chuck her out Sherlock, fucking hell, she was in your bed.” John spat.

“Shouldn’t I be the one upset about that.”

“Yeah you should but you’re not. Why not?”

“Miss Adler is a law unto herself and I’d rather not get involved in her little games.” Sherlock spoke evenly turning back to his laptop screen.

“Well she fucking pisses me off, with those polished talons all over you.” John blushed the moment he realised what he’d said and turned away.

“Why would it bother you? I don’t understand.” This time Sherlock turned in his seat the laptop forgotten.

“Nevermind.” John walked to kitchen and flipped on the kettle.

“John?” Sherlock stood and followed.

“I just think you deserve better, that’s all.” John kept his back turned, hiding the heat in his face.

“I didn’t know you were so concerned with my private life.”

John could hear the amusement in Sherlock’s voice and that didn’t help his mood one bit.

“Fuck off.” John said quietly.

“What?”

“I SAID FUCK OFF!” John spun around and slammed Sherlock into the wall behind him. The look of surprise on his face should have funny or at least satisfying but John’s anger was irrational and didn’t fade. He crowded up against Sherlock, his hands either side of his head.

“For a genius you can be really fucking stupid sometimes.” John growled.

The moment his back hit the wall Sherlock’s breath was knocked out of him and he stood staring as John crowded against him. He felt his cheeks flush and the heat rise in his groin. John’s hands slammed on the wall either side of his head, caging him in. He knew John was speaking but his brain was not registering the words. Before he had time to really think about what he was doing, he leaned down and kissed John squarely on the mouth.

Sherlock felt John freeze and instantly worried that he’d read everything wrong. He pulled back and leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. He so wanted to reach out, to push his hands up under that jumper and touch warm skin but they remained flat against the wall, at his sides, unmoving.

Sherlock closed his eyes. “I’m sorr..”

“Shut the fuck up.” John pushed up against him again and kissed him fiercely.

It was more like a mashing of lips and teeth than a kiss and it felt fucking amazing. Sherlock’s moan rumbled on John’s lips as he pushed in harder, grinding his hips into the detective.

Sherlock’s arms snaked around John’s waist and his hands pushed up under his clothes, searching for flesh. He moaned again as the heat from John’s back warmed the skin of his hands.

Finding the angle a little strange and awkward John’s mouth moved down and around Sherlock’s smooth jawline to the side of his neck. He sucked on the skin there, using his teeth to mark the pale skin and reaching down, with his left hand, he found a very satisfying bulge between Sherlock’s legs. He squeezed and smiled against Sherlock’s neck when this caused the tall man to jump slightly.

Those large, cool, hands were withdrawn from his under his shirt and jumper and were now fumbling at the front of his jeans. Popping the button, Sherlock dragged the zipper down and roughly shoved at the denim.

John’s sigh blew hot breath over Sherlock’s ear as he pushed John’s jeans down over his hips. Sherlock dropped back against the cold plaster, his head tipping up and his eyes falling closed as he palmed the hot hard flesh beneath soft red fabric.

That hand there, that hand touching John, sent him into overdrive and he bit down hard on Sherlock’s neck, just where neck meets shoulder. The grunt of pain did nothing to rein him in and the hand now shoving into his underwear and gripping his erection spurred John into more action. He dropped his right hand to where his left was already trying to figure out the damn hook, button and zipper arrangement to Sherlock’s expensive suit trousers and tore them open. To his surprised delight he found that Sherlock wasn’t wearing any underwear and the moistness of pre-ejaculate smeared over his fingers as he gripped Sherlock’s cock.

Sherlock’s hips tilted forward, thrusting into John’s own hot hardness. He pushed at John’s ridiculous red pants, getting them down far enough to wrap one large hand around both of them. John gasped and brought his right hand back up to pull Sherlock down to his mouth again. John thrust his tongue between Sherlock’s parted lips fucking his mouth as he threaded the fingers of his left hand through Sherlock’s right and pumped them together.

His breath becoming harsher, Sherlock’s head dropped back against the wall again and John looked down to where their cocks were sliding wetly over each other, his forehead resting on Sherlock’s collarbone.

“Come on.” John whispered. “I want to see you come undone.” He said as his own tension rose.

Sherlock’s breath shuddered and held, his hips pushed forward just as the pressure at the base of his spine reached it’s highest point. John felt the flesh harden even more under his fingers and gasped as his own climax rushed upon him. There were grunts and moans from both men before they collapsed into a sticky heap of tangled limbs on the kitchen floor.

Not proof read so I apologise for any mistakes in spelling and grammar. For Meg33k, just returning the favour :)

Re-evaluate//yourdearestwatson

Mon, 04 Mar 2013 16:41:18 +0000

yourdearestwatson:

sherlocksholmess:

Sherlock immediately took advantage of his size and position. As many suspects had found out to their surprise and dismay Sherlock is also deceptively strong. He tightened his legs around John’s hips, his grip vice like and sliding one foot down John’s thigh, hooked it around the back of the knee and flipped John over onto his back.

Despite his acceptance and even want for John to top at this time, he was never going to be a sub. Sherlock’s submission was only ever going to be when and as he dictated it and right now he did not want to be dominated. He had also done some research and was convinced that for a first time, he should be in control of the speed and depth.

Sherlock’s eyes slowly roamed over the exposed skin of John’s torso, then the fingers of one hand followed his gaze. Down, down to John’s erect and ready cock. Sherlock’s fingers drifted over the taut skin and started to stroke.

Rarely had John been dominated, let alone taken surprise by someone’s strength. Sherlock had so easily flipped him and pinned him down that he didn’t have a moment to think about what had happened. All the knew was that Sherlock was now on top of him, stroking his cock in a rough manner that almost hurt him. John reached down and put his hand on Sherlock, helping him just a bit, showing him exactly how he liked to have a hand job.

It, of course, didn’t take long for Sherlock to catch on and John allowed himself to relax into the strokes, groaning softly.

Sherlock gazed at John intently, his eyes taking in every detail, from the flush of John’s skin over his cheeks and neck, to his quick and shallow breathing. He gripped John more gently letting the pre-ejaculate lubricate the slip and slide of his fingers over the hot and ever hardening flesh.

As Sherlock stroked he bent low and flicked his tongue over John’s nipple, letting his teeth graze lightly over the hard nub. he closed his lips over it and hummed.

Prompt from eventhorizon451 - Hand sanitizer should not be confused with lube.

Fri, 01 Mar 2013 13:42:02 +0000

thescienceofjohnlock:

“Oh god Sherlock I’m sorry.” John called through the bathroom door.

“Arghh…oh w..what have you done to me?” Sherlock’s voice was strained, not surprising really.

“Jesus fucking hell.” John mumbled to himself, it was all his fault, he should have been paying more attention to what he was doing. ‘That’s the last time I bring anything like that home from work’ he thought to himself. He could hear the water running fast in the bath.

“Look I know you had the worst of it but I kinda need to wash as well, god it really does burn doesn’t it.” He said to the closed door, rubbing his bum.

“Fuck!”

“Oh hell” John knew this was really bad now, Sherlock never swore, well hardly ever.

“What the hell was that John?”

“Um I think I mixed up the lube with hand sanitizer. I’m really sorry. Can I come in now?”

“You idiot. You only have it on your arse cheeks, it’s all over the most sensitive part of me.”

“I know, I’m REALLY sorry.”

There was silence for a few moments, interspersed with the odd splash and exclamation of pain.

“Ok you can come in.”

John slowly opened the door and peered in to see Sherlock kneeling in a half full bath, his cheeks and a certain other part of him looking quite red and angry. John’s cheeks flushed with guilt to match.

“Are you ok?” He asked, preparing himself for the onslaught.

“Oh yes I’m perfectly fine, thank you very much.” The sarcasm was palpable.

“I’m so sorry Sherlock. Can I….?” John left the question hanging.

Sherlock nodded and shifted over to make room for John. He actually felt fine now, luckily the burning sensation went pretty quickly after washing the stuff off but he wasn’t at all impressed.

John climbed into the bath and stretched his legs out on either side of Sherlock’s raised knees.

“I’ll make it up to you.” He said gently.

“John, there is nothing like a burning cock to completely kill off any romantic feelings. I doubt you can make it up to me today.” Sherlock sat back in the water and pushed his feet down under John’s thighs.

“Let me try.” John smiled and looked up through his lashes at Sherlock’s fading scowl.

“You really are insatiable aren’t you?” Sherlock couldn’t help a small grin.

“Well…” John looked up the length of Sherlock’s pale body, the flat planes of his stomach, the sharp angles of his hip bones, protruding because of his reclined position. He looked up over the muscular chest to the still slightly swollen and reddened lips and on to those bright eyes that he could never decide on the colour. Were they blue or green? They’re fucking turquoise! “….when you look like that, it’s kinda hard to resist.” he finally finished.

John shifted forward and up onto his knees, now kneeling between Sherlock’s thighs. He leaned in and gave his best seductive, persuading kiss and John has always been a particularly good kisser. He started gently, just a brush of lips over lips and slowly increased the contact until Sherlock’s mouth was opening under his own. His tongue flicked out, gaining him a quiet moan and a hand on the back of his neck. Running his tongue over Sherlock’s bottom lip and then his upper teeth gained him another hand at the small of his back.

John broke contact and pulling the plug from the bath, he stood and turned on the shower before kneeling back down again in the space between Sherlock’s knees.

Warm water flowed over both of them flattening Sherlock’s curls and running over his face.

“Let me say sorry properly.” John whispered as he bowed his head, pursed his lips and blew gently over Sherlock’s growing erection.

Sherlock gasped slightly with an almost not there nod.

Carefully and reverently John circled his thumb and forefinger around the base of Sherlock’s still red cock. Then even more carefully he licked from root to tip, circling his tongue around the slit before dipping in. Sherlock groaned, his head falling back as his hips tilted forward.

“Feeling better?” John asked but before Sherlock could answer he bent again and this time took the head fully into his mouth, sucking lightly as his hand stroked the shaft.

“Oh.. much.. better…”

John’s cheeks hollowed as he sucked harder, taking in as much as he could and Sherlock began to ever so slightly thrust with his movements. John pulled off and turning his head, bit down on Sherlock’s inner thigh. This earned him a fist in his hair and he smiled as he returned to his administrations. He gripped Sherlock’s balls and pulled a little before lifting his head and murmuring “Come for me Sherlock.”

“Oh god…f..fuck” Sherlock mumbled as John’s lips wrapped around him again.

John used his tongue to press hard to the underside of Sherlock’s cock as he sucked and bobbed his head, the fingers in his hair tightening. He felt the tendons in Sherlock’s thighs stand out and the tightening in his balls.

“I’m close…” Sherlock tried to say.

John just hummed in response and that was the tipping point. Sherlock’s back arched, every muscle pulling taut under his skin as John felt the hot release shoot down his throat. He swallowed and gently pulled off.

“I really am sorry.” he said.

Also on AO3 http://archiveofourown.org/works/704103

Help needed, please.

Thu, 28 Feb 2013 12:08:43 +0000

thescienceofjohnlock:

I really need to get into the habit of writing more (even if it’s crap) and I also need to get back into RPing Sherlock (because I loved it and people kept telling me I was good).

So please please send me prompts for RPs or short fics, I’m not promising that I’ll use all of them but I hope I’ll be able to use some and I hope that I can get 1 or 2 RP partners (that are tolerant and patience as I can be very slow).

Help me get back into this please

thescienceofjohnlock: Sitting down at his desk, Sherlock pulled...

Sun, 24 Feb 2013 13:55:00 +0000

thescienceofjohnlock:

Sitting down at his desk, Sherlock pulled the sheet tighter around himself. He was conflicted, equal measures of curiosity and guilt fought for dominance and of course curiosity won. He lifted the lid of his laptop, a thrill of excitement flashing though his body for a split second as John’s half sleeping, half waking image appeared on the screen.

Installing the camera had been easy, just a tiny hole in John’s bedroom ceiling, it really didn’t show up among all the cracks and John wasn’t the most observant fellow after all. It had taken him less than ten minutes to set it up and now the very next morning he could observe John all he wanted. And he very much wanted to watch. Sherlock knew, in a way, that it was wrong but John had endured so much worse at his hands and he hoped that this little indiscretion would prove beneficial to both of them.

Sherlock sat back, his fingers smoothing over his lips as he watched John begin to wake. At first it was just miniature movements, a twitch here, a frown there, then slowly, despite his eyes remaining closed, John came to full wakefulness. He licked his lips and Sherlock’s breath caught for a moment. He snaked a hand down under the sheets and Sherlock held his breath.

John was touching himself and Sherlock’s temperature was rising. He realised he was holding his breath and let it out slowly, shakily, his own hand moving down, under his sheet. He watched as John became more aroused, his movements slowly picking up speed and pressure. Oh god he so wished he see under those bed covers and briefly wondered if he get hold of some kind of x-ray or heat imaging camera.

The microphone was starting to pick up small sounds, John’s breath, his slight moans, he was obviously trying to be quiet, knowing Sherlock was in the flat. But those sounds were doing strange things to Sherlock, he was a little shocked by his own heart rate. For the first time in many years Sherlock stroked his growing erection, lightly at first, surprised at himself but soon growing in pressure as the heavy flesh grew and tightened in his hand.

John squirmed, constricted by the bed covers, Sherlock watched as he frowned again and struggled to push the bed clothes down. A gasp escaped past Sherlock’s lips then and his eyes widened as John started to push down those strangely alluring red pants, he seemed so keen on.

John’s fist tightened on his oh so very erect cock, adding a wicked little twist to the upstroke, Sherlock copied his movements exactly, a strangled moan rumbled up out of him. He continued to match all of John’s movements even though he was finding his body’s responses a little alarming. His temperature was still climbing and he could feel his heart hammering against his ribcage, his breathing labored despite his reclined position and most of all there was sharp build up of pressure at the base of his spine. Of course he knew what this meant but after a decade or more the feeling was almost brand new. He was teetering on the edge of orgasm and he knew none of this would be happening for anyone but John.

John was licking his lips again, biting down on the bottom one and this little, insignificant thing sent Sherlock careering over that edge. His body shuddered, every muscle taut and held tight as his cock pulsed in his hand. He may have cried out but he couldn’t be sure as his blood pounded in his ears and his eyes screwed tightly shut for a few moments, he may have said John’s name.

He opened his eyes again, focusing on the screen before him. John was now balancing on that edge, Sherlock could see the tightening of his fist, his head thrown back. John’s mouth opened in a silent ‘O’ and then his head snapped down again to look directly into the camera. Sherlock’s eyes widened, he sat forward, watching John’s face intently. John appeared to be looking right into Sherlock’s eyes, his back arched and as he came he cried out Sherlock’s name.

This is a little ficlet in celebration of my dear friend, on here and in real life, cumber-porn and her blog reaching 10,000 followers. Congratulations darling, I hope this is to your taste, love you x Gifs are by the very talented sherlockspear if you are not following either of these wonderful people do so now sherlockspeare.tumblr.com cumber-porn.tumblr.com

thescienceofjohnlock: br0-harry: whatever context you like...

Sun, 13 Jan 2013 16:01:34 +0000

thescienceofjohnlock:

br0-harry:

whatever context you like :3

It’s Alright

It was dark, only one faint light was on in the living room but Sherlock could see John’s outline, sitting quietly in the armchair. Sherlock stepped through his bedroom doorway into the darkened room, afraid but needing to put things right. His throat constricted, he faltered, his steps becoming uncertain. He hated this, more than anything he hated doubt and John brought him so much doubt. He doubted himself, he doubted his methods, he doubted John’s love.

John also brought him so much certainty. Sherlock was certain he was brilliant, amazing and nearly always right, John told him so all the time. Sherlock was certain John was his closest friend, he was certain John was also brilliant and he was certain that he loved John.

And yet he doubted, he feared, in fact he was terrified. No one had ever stuck with him before, no one had ever put up with him for so long. It could all just stop at any moment and Sherlock had no idea how to survive that. He pushed, he pulled, he tested John, he tested John’s love and he did it all while knowing in the back of his mind that he was the one destroying what he needed and valued the most.

He never wanted to hurt John, he just couldn’t stop. The words he’d said were cruel, hurtful, more than ‘a bit not good’, yet he had still said them. He had almost bitten through his own tongue trying to stop himself but still the venom spilled from his mouth.

He had to put this right.

Sherlock stopped in front of John’s chair and looked down through tear filled eyes. “I….I’m so s..sorry John. I didn’t mean….”

“I know you didn’t.” John spoke softly, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Please forgive me.”

“It’s you Sherlock and I wouldn’t have you any other way. It’s alright.”

A mini fic was requested and then this gorgeous piece of art from br0-harry appeared on my dash. Hope it’s ok.

Photo

Tue, 01 Jan 2013 16:01:00 +0000

BAMF! Sherlock appreciation post.

Wed, 12 Dec 2012 16:01:15 +0000

BAMF! Sherlock appreciation post.

thescienceofjohnlock: Puzzles. That was what fed Sherlock,...

Thu, 06 Dec 2012 09:56:23 +0000

thescienceofjohnlock:

Puzzles.

That was what fed Sherlock, puzzles. John could see it in his face, he could see Sherlock’s eyes light up, his back straighten, he became at least an inch taller when confronted with a puzzle. It was like watching a sun rise in the form of a lanky, beautiful, very male, well… man.

John could be invisible, non-existant, to a puzzle solving detective. Sherlock would be entirely absorbed in the puzzle, every tiny particle of his attention was on the task of solving the case. There were times he swore (sometimes literally) that if he dropped dead Sherlock wouldn’t notice until he tripped over his cold, still body. And the detective was equally unaware of his own needs when puzzle solving. John could spend hours fruitlessly trying to get Sherlock to eat, sleep or just drink a cup of tea and yet when the puzzle was solved he would eat like the starving (well he probably was) and sleep like the dead.

What John didn’t know, what he failed to realise for quite some time, was that for Sherlock there was one all encompassing, terrifyingly important puzzle, one that he could not, must not, fail to solve. And yet at the same time Sherlock knew it was a puzzle he would never solve, he could only hope to understand some parts of it. It was a puzzle that received an uncommonly large amount of his attention and yet he was afraid to show it.

That was until one dull day, there were no other puzzles to solve, no work to be done and they were spending the afternoon reading, drinking tea and in John’s case tutting over the clutter in the flat.

As John sat there, eyeing the mess and wishing Sherlock would do something about it (but of course knowing full well that wasn’t going to happen), he couldn’t help his gaze returning to Sherlock over and over again. He looked smaller somehow, like his boredom was shrinking him.

Sherlock swung his legs off the couch with a sigh and caught his tea cup, knocking it over on the edge of the table. He looked up quickly, expecting an expletive to drop from John’s lips but instead a warm smile greeted him. He sat up, leaning forward, his gaze not leaving John.

For John the sun was rising, not the sun, his sun. Sherlock’s face brightened, his eyes blazed and at last John realised it was because of him. Sherlock had that exact same look he had when a juicy case was presented to him. He grew, in stature and brightness and it was all because John smiled at him, he was obviously expecting some kind of reprimand over the spilled tea and a smile instead was a puzzle.

John found himself rising from the chair, half climbing over the table, the spilt tea forgotten. He took that bright face in his hand, tilting Sherlock’s chin upwards as he leaned down. There was a gentle, warm, brush of lips over lips, a small smile from both sets and a widening of bright blue/green eyes.

This was the greatest puzzle for Sherlock, John Watson, how John made him feel. However hard he tried to deny his feelings, the sentiment, it was there and it was strong and he was showing it now. Every tiny particle of Sherlock’s attention was focused solely on John and for the first time he was not hiding it.

John poured Sherlock a fresh cup of tea before sitting back down and resuming his reading. Sherlock sat stock still for a moment and then spooned some sugar into his tea, his hand trembling, scattering the sugar. John smiled again, his sun was now shining particularly brightly.

A loooong time ago kuuttamo suggested I write a mini fic for this gorgeous picture. I so wanted to do it and then my muse went on holiday and it sat there waiting for me to get my arse in gear. Several times I started to write something and felt it just wasn’t good enough for this art. I hope this is ok, I hope she likes it. kuuttamo.tumblr.com

taikova: I wanted to draw london, then I wanted to draw...

Thu, 29 Nov 2012 15:56:03 +0000

taikova:

I wanted to draw london, then I wanted to draw Sherlock and John in London and then I wanted to draw it with a fountain pen and ink.

thescienceofjohnlock: thescienceofjohnlock: Is it any wonder...

Wed, 28 Nov 2012 10:30:34 +0000

thescienceofjohnlock:

thescienceofjohnlock:

Is it any wonder that he was the only one to get to Sherlock’s heart?

The thought came unbidden, slipping into Mycroft’s mind and before he knew it the words formed on his lips and tongue. He whispered it into the empty room.

“Is it any wonder that he was the only one to get to Sherlock’s heart?”

Mycroft dropped the photograph onto the open file in front of him.

The Holmes brothers, aloof, cold, unfeeling, ‘The Ice Man’ and ‘The Virgin’, the government and the detective. But Mycroft knew better, he knew there was more to both of them than that. And right now at this very moment he knew that they were both hurting.

And John, well John was hurting the most. Mycroft sighed and took a sip of whiskey, this was going to be tricky, he had to bring Sherlock back and he had to do it in the least dramatic and damaging way. The sooner the better for all of their sakes.

Mycroft had known Sherlock was still alive for 2 weeks now, he had wept, actually cried, surprising himself. Later that same day he had realised his tears were as much for John as himself but John did not yet know and Mycroft wasn’t sure if the news would break him.

Another sigh, another sting of forced back tears. It was ridiculous, Mycroft had never understood why people cried of happiness and now he was experiencing it. ‘The Ice Man’ melts and all for the love of my little brother…and his brave doctor.

He stood collecting the file and as an after thought downed the last of the whiskey. Mycroft looked to the window and smiled. “I’m bringing you home little brother” he spoke once more to the empty room, turned and went to make the proper arrangements.

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Mon, 26 Nov 2012 09:54:00 +0000

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Tue, 20 Nov 2012 16:00:59 +0000

thescienceofjohnlock: It had been 3 months, 6 days, 11 hours...

Thu, 15 Nov 2012 17:59:33 +0000

thescienceofjohnlock:

It had been 3 months, 6 days, 11 hours and 23 minutes since Sherlock had come to the conclusion that he was not only in love with John Watson but also sexually attracted to him. In that time Sherlock had tried to convince himself that he was wrong, despite being sure that he was never wrong (well.. hardly ever), that it was ridiculous, that John did not see him that way and possibly it was just a chemical imbalance.

None of this worked of course and things were getting awkward, until 2 months, 2 days and 11 minutes ago when John started, quite obviously, flirting with him. Then things got really awkward. Sherlock ran, not literally, but he avoided John. He spent more time in his room, he left John’s company, clutching his robe about himself when a whispered innuendo caused things to …. well to rise. And John was full of innuendos.

For the last 3 weeks, 4 days and 17 minutes Sherlock had tried to decide what to do about the situation. Frankly he was terrified. Frankly he was sure John would find his terror amusing and that, again, just made things worse. He actually started to think there was more than just harmless flirting going on and that John was testing him.

Coming to the conclusion that he had to do something Sherlock decided to flirt a little himself. It was something he was good at, something he used to gain information on his cases and something he knew worked a treat on a certain Dr John Watson. And so it was he spent another 3 days cataloging all of John’s reactions.

It wasn’t difficult in the end, in fact it felt …right and John’s reactions were ….well positive seems like an understatement.

And so it was that on Thursday at 12.21pm, just before lunch, Sherlock rose from his chair, stepped towards John and unbuttoned his jacket. About an hour later Sherlock was no longer know as ‘The Virgin’. John made sure of that with a succinct text to Mycroft.

behindtintedglass: The photoset had to be done. Made by the...

Thu, 15 Nov 2012 16:01:05 +0000

behindtintedglass:

The photoset had to be done. Made by the incredibly talented Steph.

This is what an unparalleled partnership looks like: The brilliant mind of Sherlock Holmes, and a devoted soldier like Dr. John Watson to protect it.

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Tue, 06 Nov 2012 22:16:34 +0000

Re-evaluate//yourdearestwatson

Tue, 06 Nov 2012 22:12:51 +0000

yourdearestwatson:

sherlocksholmess:

Sherlock’s mouth opened in a perfect ‘o’ he shuddered slightly, his legs tightening on John. The leather belt holding his wrists was heightening his arousal, he was a little surprised to find himself wanting to be taken.

He pulled with his legs and lifted his hips, rubbing against John’s skin and forcing that finger further in. The look on John’s face was a small percentage of surprise and a whole load of passion. Sherlock could see it all, the rise in heart rate, the slowing but deepening of the breath, the climbing temperature. This in itself was arousing but there was more. John was studying him, every last gram of John’s attention was on Sherlock, like he had never experienced before, it took his breath away.

Sherlock tugged slightly at the belt, it was becoming a distraction, he had better things to do with his hands.

“I want you John” he whispered “Let me touch you.”

As a dom, John normally would have denied his submissive to touch him. but this was Sherlock and it was his first time. He sighed as he looked at the restraints and decided that those could wait and took the leather belts off of his wrists letting him free. “Touch me,” he whispered. He was growing impatient, but would allow Sherlock to explore all he needed to.

Sherlock immediately took advantage of his size and position. As many suspects had found out to their surprise and dismay Sherlock is also deceptively strong. He tightened his legs around John’s hips, his grip vice like and sliding one foot down John’s thigh, hooked it around the back of the knee and flipped John over onto his back.

Despite his acceptance and even want for John to top at this time, he was never going to be a sub. Sherlock’s submission was only ever going to be when and as he dictated it and right now he did not want to be dominated. He had also done some research and was convinced that for a first time, he should be in control of the speed and depth.

Sherlock’s eyes slowly roamed over the exposed skin of John’s torso, then the fingers of one hand followed his gaze. Down, down to John’s erect and ready cock. Sherlock’s fingers drifted over the taut skin and started to stroke.

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Sun, 28 Oct 2012 15:02:12 +0000

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Fri, 26 Oct 2012 08:00:56 +0100