Roses are red
Violets are blue
You need to smile more often
Because I love you
Are we going to do this again?
You're not the only one who gets bored, Sherlock.
And this is how you deal with it?
Yes. Problem?
We could have sex instead.
We just had one.
Roses are red
Violets are blue
How can I smile, my dear John
If you won't let me fuck you
Such vulgar language, Sherlock. Mummy will be displeased.
Mycroft, what the hell were you doing in our flat? -SH
Also, stop chipping in on our conversations. -SH
Creep. -SH
Brother dear, I have a case for you. You will find it very interesting, I am sure. -MH
Go forth and have coitus with thyself. -SH
Such temper. Trouble in paradise? - MH
If your cameras are still here, you'll know that John and I are very happy. -SH
I don't know, Sherlock. Just the other night, you were kneeling in front of him. -MH
I was assuming you have done something wrong and was asking for forgiveness. -MH
I will buy a monkey and train it to slap you whenever you send a text. -SH
You can send a picture of yourself in the meantime. I would be unable to tell the difference anyway. -MH
Can you make fratricide legal? - SH
Don't you have something—or someone—better to do? -MH
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I hate Mycroft
Okay, good. That's a start, I guess. How about you make them rhyme?
Can't. Too busy plotting brother's demise.
Too busy for me?
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Don't be silly, John
I will always have time for you
That's sweet. Here's mine:
Oranges are orange
Apples are red
Stop whining about Mycroft
Let's get back to bed
"Your wish," Sherlock whispered, cupping John's arse and half-dragging him to their bedroom, "is my command."
"You are amazing," John pants.
"Of course," Sherlock replied, similarly out of breath but smiling. He rested his head on John's chest. John wrapped his arms around the detective's shoulders, planting a kiss on his hair.
Sherlock's phone rang. It was Mycroft. He rejected the call.
"You're not going to answer that?"
"It's just Mycroft being a penis."
John chuckled and hugged him tighter. Sherlock hummed in contentment.
"He's not going to stop, you know."
Sherlock's phone beeped. A text.
"There you go."
Sherlock grunted and read the message out loud.
John is right, Sherlock. I will not stop bothering you until you take the case. –MH
"Bloody hell!" John snatched the blanket and covered their bodies, his eyes searching for a hidden camera.
Not to worry, Doctor Watson. There are no cameras inside your bedrooms, only microphones. –MH
John tried not to think about the noises he and Sherlock have been making. Tomorrow, he would tear down the bloody walls.
Go find someone else to play with. –SH
This isn't a game, Sherlock. This is a matter of national security. –MH
What, did your rubber ducky get flushed down the toilet? –SH
Don't be absurd. Call me once you get dressed. –MH
Sherlock did not get dressed. Instead, he busied himself with teasing John's nipples. He started with the left one. Kissing, licking, sucking, making John moan and fueling his desire. He should have been too exhausted by now, but he found himself getting harder.
Another text. Sherlock snarled, but left John's nipples to read it. John could not help but whimper.
Unless Doctor Watson is pleasuring himself, you do not seem to be obeying me. –MH
If, however, the good doctor is indeed pleasuring himself, my apologies. Do carry on. –MH
"Jesus," John muttered. The man is insane. More insane than Sherlock could possibly be. "Sherlock, just do as he says. Please."
All he got by way of response was a "hmph."
He stood up, naked, and bent over to pick up his clothes from the floor. John couldn't help but admire the perfection of his behind. He started wondering if perhaps he should just forget about Sherlock's voyeuristic brother and continue where they left off.
Sherlock, however, was almost dressed, so screw that.
"Do you want me to come with you?" He wanted to, but his body was betraying him—his eyes were beginning to droop and his back seemed glued to the bed.
Sherlock took one look at him and said, "No, just sleep there or write your blog or whatever. I'm sure this is a boring case anyway. Mycroft probably forgot where he put his chocolate cake."
My chocolate cake is in a safe place, thank you very much. –MH
"Hm. Looks like he has already eaten it."
They burst out laughing and only stopped when Mycroft sent another text.
How lovely to see that you haven't yet lost your senseless humour. The car is waiting, Sherlock. –MH
And no, I haven't yet eaten it. –MH
"I should get going. The sooner this ends, the better. I'll text you."
"All right," John replied, reaching out to pull Sherlock towards him once more. He kissed his forehead. "Keep safe."
"I will."
And he was out the door.
The case was boring
I bet Mycroft was just lonely
Get the bed and your arse ready
I'm coming home, and I'm really really horny x -SH