Disclaimer: I do not own any Sherlock characters or any content relating to the series/books/ movies or anything at all.
WARNING: This is a porn fic and has no redeeming qualities. It is my first time writing porn and for all I know could be complete shit. Please review!
...
Sometimes John and Sherlock liked to play a bit of a game.
Sherlock nuzzled his face into John's shoulder. John quietly closed his book with a content sigh, getting ready for some cuddle time.
"John," Sherlock says tentatively into his lover's ear, sounding like a child who is afraid of getting in trouble.
John immediately recognizes this tone and his body language changes in less than a second. He turns his head to the left and his eyes are sharp, on the edge of anger. "What did you do?"
Sherlock's voice is softer than before, almost a whisper, "I dropped a glass on the floor." He looks on the edge of crying.
John lightens up a bit, "Oh, it's okay. You cleaned it up, right?" Sherlock nods. "Then you have nothing to worry about." Sherlock smiles and John asks with disinterest, "Which one was it?"
"The one you use to drink your tea," His posture slackens, getting ready to be yelled at after his confession.
"Hey, don't cry. I'll just go out and get a new one." They smile at each other and John settles with Sherlock on the couch, reaches for the remote, and turns on the television. They lay there comfortably for some time.
John yawns quietly into Sherlock's hair, and begins to move him so he can stand up. "Get up, hon, I am going to make us some tea."
"But your glass!" Sherlock looks confused and a bit afraid.
"I have more than one, Sher. No problem." Sherlock lies back on the couch and relaxes.
From the kitchen, a loud curse is heard. John yells angrily, "Sherlock!"
Sherlock stiffens on the couch, scared. John stalks over with rage in his eyes.
"I just stepped on a piece of glass," he says with scary calmness.
Sherlock's eyes widen, "S-s-sorry." Tears form in the corners of his eyes and his chin quivers.
"This is absolutely unacceptable! You said you cleaned it up! Did you do this because you hate me? Was this your plan all along; to hurt me? Are you angry with me, slave!?" John yells with disgust.
"N-no, no! Of course not. I love you. I love being yours. I will do anything for you. Please don't hurt me." He bawls, shivering.
"Get to your room while I think of a suitable punishment for you, you filthy maggot!" John instructs.
Sherlock slowly rises from the couch without looking at John and practically runs to his room.
The door opens to the room Sherlock previously called his own, before John made a habit of sleeping with him. The lights are off, and its occupant is hiding in the corner, folded up.
John turns on the lights. "Get up," he kicks Sherlock in the back.
Sherlock's head slowly turns his eyes red and watery. He gets up and stares at the floor, avoiding eye contact.
"Take off your trousers," John commands.
Sherlock does as he is told. John opens the box of grits and spreads them on the floor between them.
"Now kneel," John says, forcefully.
Again, Sherlock follows his orders.
John grabs a handful of the younger man's hair. "Now you're going to be punished for what you have done to me. I swear if you bite me, I will slash your throat and throw you in the dumpster, do you understand?"
Sherlock nods.
"Good." John undoes his belt, pulls down his trousers, and sets his erection free. Sherlock stares at it, enraptured; his own member grows hard. John looks down at him with disgust and heat. "You sick bastard, you like this, don't you?" He slaps Sherlock hard in the face.
Tears come back to his eyes, but he is still eagerly awaiting his punishment.
John pulls down his pants, shoving his penis into his slave's face. "Open your mouth."
Sherlock's jaw drops and he takes John in.
Blowjob ensues
John comes into the mouth of his lover. Sherlock swallows his lover's ejaculate. He pulls away and wipes his mouth.
"Get onto the bed," John requests. Sherlock stays in place. "Now!" John commands.
Sherlock scrambles onto the bed.
John tears off Sherlock's pants and pumps his hand on Sherlock's erect member.
On the verge of climax, Sherlock inhales sharply. At that signal, John stops. He gets up and off the bed.
"Undress," He tells Sherlock.
Expecting something more, he practically rips off his remaining clothing.
"Now get out of this room. You will be sleeping on the couch tonight. Don't even dare ask me for a blanket or I will whip you."
Sherlock starts to cry and leaves the room.
At around 1 am, John comes out to the living room to retrieve his sleeping lover. For the rest of the night they sleep contentedly next to each other.
END
Author's note: Yes, I know this is a bit messed up and out of character for the both of them. I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you for reading.