A/N: I just found out that September 19th is "Talk Like a Pirate Day" (who knew?) and this little thing popped into my head. It's my first smutty thing ever, so I'm working out the kinks (no pun intended). Enjoy!

Obligatory disclaimers:

I own nothing, and my apologies to all parties who do own the characters for horribly butchering their hard work.

Sherlock is slightly out of character. That's because he's talking like a pirate and doing things that a virgin has no knowledge of. Also it's because I haven't quite mastered him. He's a tricky one.

It was nearly 8 P.M. when John got home from work. He had recently been promoted at the surgery and was getting home later than he used to. He was exhausted from both patching people up throughout the day and the paperwork he now needed to do. All John really wanted was a cup of tea and a cuddle on the couch with his husband.

When he got home, there was no sign of his husband. "Sherlock," he called. No answer.

John headed for the kitchen, where there was (shockingly) no sign of him. Puzzled, he turned around and walked back into the living room. As he walked back in, a lanky mass of fabric flung itself down the stairs from John's old bedroom and knocked the doctor into his armchair.

"Sherlock, what the-" John managed to sputter before Sherlock engulfed his mouth and began to plunder it with his tongue.

After several intense minutes, Sherlock pulled away and asked, "Do you like my outfit?"

"If you get off me and let me have a proper look at it, I'll tell you," John grinned.

Sherlock huffed and groaned, but he pulled himself up and spread his arms wide to give John the full effect. "I'm a pirate!"

"Oh, yes. I remember your brother mentioning something about you wanting to be one when you were younger," John remembered.

Sherlock scowled at the mention of Mycroft, but his mood quickly changed when he began talking again. "I have been informed that today is 'Talk Like a Pirate Day', and I figured I should seize the opportunity and celebrate."

"Darling, you aren't exactly celebrating. It's about talking like a pirate, not dressing like one." John smiled up at him sweetly. Sometimes Sherlock failed to grasp the simplest things.

Sherlock scowled again. "Avast, matey," he finally said. He said the words as if they tasted foul. "I've been asea lookin' for a- oh, sod it, John, I have a sexual fantasy where I'm the captain of a pirate ship and you're a fair haired maiden who I kidnap and keep on my ship as my lovely and not so willing at first but eventually completely willing sex toy. Would you mind indulging me?"

God.

He knew this was the wrong reaction, but John couldn't help it. He laughed a bit. But he quickly said, "I would be delighted. But I refuse to be a woman in this scenario. I'll be a male damsel in distress who just happens to want be open to bottoming."

"Fair enough," Sherlock agreed. Before John could say or do anything else, Sherlock had scooped him up and was carrying him to their bedroom. John quickly remembered the part about not being willing at first, and grabbed Sherlock's chin and forced him to look him in the eyes.

"Unhand me," Sherlock demanded.

"Let me down, you rouge." John was having trouble keeping a straight face. God, he was so bad at this.

"Never," Sherlock replied. He dropped John on their bed and jumped on top of him, kissing him violently. After a few seconds, he said, "We're awful at this. Can I just have sex with you in this pirate costume instead?"

"God, yes," John moaned.

Sherlock made quick work of John's shirt and dove down to his nipples, sucking each one until they were red, swollen, and erect. He didn't nibble them, knowing full well that John wasn't fond of that particular sensation due to an unfortunate experience with a previous lover that involved nipple clamps and a trip to the hospital. Sherlock did nibble at the rest of John's body, leaving little red marks all over his abdomen and even sucking a few until they were purple.

John was moaning wantonly as Sherlock moved down his stomach. His hands were in the detective's hair and on his shoulders and scratching gently up and down his back.

"Sherlock, please," John choked. "Come on."

Sherlock grinned. He punctuated every word with a kiss up John's midsection, neck, and jawline. "But." Kiss. "I." Kiss. "Love." Kiss. "To." Kiss. "Hear." Kiss. "You." Kiss. "Beg."

The final word was whispered directly into John's ear and was accompanied by a lick to the shell of his ear. He then added, just for good measure,"Matey."

John shuddered and moaned. "God I love you, Sherlock."

Sherlock attacked his mouth again. All the while, John was fumbling with getting the loose white shirt that Sherlock was wearing off of him and getting his hands on that alabaster skin. He finally got it off and somehow managed to keep the pirate hat on his husband's head.

John, amidst all of this fumbling, hadn't noticed Sherlock reaching into the bedside table for the lubricant. Sherlock ripped down John's pants and boxers in one go and quickly began massaging John's entrance as he pressed light kisses on each of John's balls. John was having trouble dealing with this sensory overload and quickly pulled Sherlock's head up. He received a puzzled stare.

"Our sex life hasn't been what it used to be before I got promoted, love," John panted. "I want to finish with you in me, and at this rate, that isn't going to happen."

"Oh fine," Sherlock sighed. He focused more on preparing both of them. He slowly entered John and nearly collapsed from the wonderful heat. Thankfully, John needed a few minutes to adjust, which gave Sherlock time to get himself under control.

Finally, John gave a small nod and Sherlock began to move. He lay on top of John, trapping John's erect cock between their stomachs. Their nipples brushed together, causing little electric shocks of pleasure to run through them. John managed to lift himself up a bit and kissed Sherlock sloppily, both of them moaning into each other's mouths. Sherlock angled his hips so he could hit John's prostate each time, and after that it didn't take long until both of them were coming and Sherlock had collapsed on top of John, both of them naked (save the pirate hat) and sweaty and blissfully boneless.

Finally, Sherlock rolled off of John and reached for a washcloth that he'd placed on his bedside table and cleaned both of them off. "Are you hungry?"

John chucked. "Aye, matey, I believe I am."

"Well," Sherlock kissed him. "Want to order a take away?"

"Only if you call and order in a pirate voice."

"You're evil," Sherlock grinned. He rolled over and grabbed his phone, dialing the Chinese place down the street.

He was still wearing the hate as he stumbled through the order in a pirate voice. John grinned smugly at it. When Sherlock was done, he rolled back over, grumbling about making a fool of himself and hating John. John pulled Sherlock on top of him and kissed him to take his mind off of his humiliation.

"How long will it be until the food gets here?"

"He said it should be forty minutes to an hour. Why?"

"Well," John sighed, running his hands up Sherlock's chest. "I have an experiment for you."

"Yes?" Sherlock's interest was piqued and he was suddenly shaken from his post-orgasmic haze.

"Mmmhm," John hummed. "If you were to ride me while wearing that hat, would it stay on?"

Sherlock laughed and swooped back down to capture John's mouth again. "There's only one way to figure that out, isn't there?"

It goes without saying that "Talk Like a Pirate Day" quickly became John and Sherlock's favorite holiday.