Piercing the Veil by Lemony Prescott
Disclaimer- That moment when you spell a word so wrong that even auto correct is like "I've got nothing man".
They had just gotten back from America. There was a case that involved some crazy idiot inflicting Genital Retraction Syndrome on his victims by drugging them and making them think their genitals are slowly shrinking. Of course, Sherlock jumped up and down like a little child on Christmas morning when he heard about the case. But, as always, the case was a giant hoax.
Conclusion? Sherlock was seething.
He lied on the coach, starring at the ceiling with narrowed eyes, it was a clear sign that he needed a distraction NOW or the whole world would pay. He didn't even bother to look up when John sneaked up on his pity party.
"What do you want now? I ate, showered, and bought you milk. What more do you want from me?" Sherlock demanded, jumping off the couch to emphasize his anger. He towered over John, even if he was just wearing a plain silk sheet. Yet John stood tall with all his pride, and huffed.
"That was hardly anything, Sherlock, and while you may be the more dominate one in this messed up relationship of ours, but that doesn't mean you can walk all over me! Did you know that a strong relationship requires two people making an effort? Well, I don't see you giving a crap!" John shouted into Sherlock's livid face.
"Sorry if I 'don't give a crap', but I have more things to do than to listen to your petty opinions on our 'messed up' relationship!" Sherlock shouted at the top of his lungs, before turning and storming to their room, closing the door with a loud bang.
John slipped into their room silently, pointedly ignoring the consulting detective. He grabbed a pair of red underwear and a tank before exiting to the already steamy shower. He, however, did not notice how the bed was unoccupied, along with the whole room.
Where was Sherlock?
(o)
As soon as he opened the door to the large bathroom, he knew exactly where Sherlock was.
Slowly, he stripped off his purple jumper and discarded his pants, leaving him in nothing but a pair of red underwear. He threw the pants and the jumper into the hamper before opening the glass door leading to the steamy, hot shower.
The blond watched as the steam flowed out from the open door and into the air around him. He moaned, noticing how there was a small bump coming from his right.
He smiled.
Showtime!
(o)
Sherlock grumbled as he watched John undress before his very eyes.
They haven't had sex for weeks; he was purely sex deprived, and sexually frustrated. Usually, they would shag like rabbits on drugs without any regrets, but that was before their big fight. After he had said some less than pleasing things about their relationship, John snapped. He just stopped requesting sex from Sherlock. Sherlock, being Sherlock, could easily decipher that John obviously preferred cheap porn and his right hand over his own boyfriend.
So this is what he did instead. He watched. And he watched on.
John gave a sultry moan before waving his hips back and forth, moving to plug the radio. He on some type of station with romantic music before slowly striping his red pants.
He stopped, however, and turned to Sherlock and looked at him straight in the eye.
"Would you care to come out of that closet and help me get these oh so tight pants off?"
Authors Note~ This is the first time I've written anything even close to smut, so I hope it was…Good? Also, this was a 221b ficlet exchange with the amazing,
Silver Ocean01. Check her out! You won't regret it. Thank you for reading!
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