I do not own Sherlock, BBC do. Arthur Conan Doyle created Sherlock and the Characters, I make no money from writing this.
A/N: Okay don't ask me but this is kinda based on a Hentai I watched (what the hell am I doing watching Hentai I dunno). It was really gross but the idea of the bored game was kinda cool.
Okay sorry it was written in what 2-3 hours, grammer is bad, it's mainly PWP. Little smut at the end, and omg a happy ending *smacks face in shock* WHAT'S UP WITH THAT!
Been watching a lot Benedict Cumberbatch, my god I wanna hug him T_T
"He's breaking up with Sarah, today... New Years Eve of all the days."
Sherlock sighed and took a drag of his cigarette, hands shaking slightly as Mycroft eyed him with a slight smirk on his face.
"What does one do? In-" Sherlock beckoned an invisible figure forward "-these circumstances." he finished taking in a drag and then stamping on the butt he dropped on the floor.
"What does one not do, Sherlock?" Mycroft answered, Sherlock rolled his eyes and blew out smoke into his brothers face.
"Don't answer my question with another Mycroft, you know how much I despise that." He said. Mycroft waved a hand in front of his face and gave out a token cough (insert Sherlock rolling eyes here) before shaking his head at his brother.
"I may be able to help. I have in my possession a board game; a social-norm if you will. It enables people to become...closer to one another. I must say the results have proved...highly effective." Mycroft smirked deviously at Sherlock who was staring at him in disbelief.
"A board game? Seriously Mycroft, odd that after playing with your dolls you chose to take pleasure in such simple matters." Sherlock said reaching into his pocket and crumbling the empty cigarette box.
"John needs me tonight, his sister went into rehab a few days ago and the weather prevents him from getting to places. He'll be with me tonight... to comfort him I suppose." Sherlock sniffed, his face remained blank but his eyes twinkled as the proposed job.
Mycroft's grin grew.
"Trust me Sherlock... I know this would be of great comfort tonight, I can promise you that."
At 10pm John Watson returned with a bottle of wine and a box of smashed chocolates; both he felt would be useful for comforting later on. He threw his keys on the table and then shuffled through last weeks post, most of Sherlock's sealed as a sniff apparently told the consulting detective whether it was important or not (John made sure to tell Mrs Hudson to redirect the bills to him). A Christmas card nested between the pile, a hare and a tortoise staring out at the snow straight at John bewildered.
"John I need your help." Sherlock called from the living room, John rolled his eyes and quickly made sure to switch the kettle on before following Sherlock's voice. He stopped in front of Sherlock's door and knocked.
"For the love of... come in." Sherlock muttered; John turned the doorknob and stepped inside the room cautiously.
It was apparent at once that Sherlock owned very little. A couple of books on the shelf, a line of vials on the windowsill and the cup that John had presented to him last week
World's Number 1
Consulting Detective's
Sherlock, despite pointing out that he was the 'only' consulting detective, had actually looked fondly at the small item, his eyes even flickered up to John, lips stretched up into a tiny smile.
The room gave an insight of just how lonely life must have been for Sherlock. The living room, which was bombarded with various stuff was obviously most of what Sherlock had... nothing private; just objects that could be shared or studied. Like John's room had been at the start, Mrs Hudson had put in a wardrobe and a chest of draws, none of them had been moved. Unlike John's room however, Sherlock's had a large landscape mirror that showed the reflection of Sherlock's king-sized bed, unmade and ruffled. In the middle of the room, Sherlock sat crossed legged staring down at a bored-game.
The bored game had two to four figures, two blue, two red. Two blue figures were set up at the 'start' while the others were laid out beside Sherlock. Sherlock stared at John for a moment before patting the space beside him with a smirk. John sighed softly as he dropped down obediently, Sherlock quickly picked up the rule sheet and began to read aloud.
"Roll the die, pick up a card if you land on an orange square." He frowned and turned over the sheet with a raised eyebrow "That's it-" He said, John shrugged and grabbed the dice before looking down at his watch, 10 minutes should do it, he could hopefully catch the festival on BBC1 if the game went on without any problems.
He rolled the die, 5 that landed him on a orange square. Scowling, the doctor picked up a card and smiled. 'Hug' He showed it to Sherlock who grumbled before allowing the shorter man to embrace him.
"Really Mycroft..." He mumbled under his breath as he picked up the die, and rolled.
6, he grinned as he skipped his figure across the squares and landed on a safe white square,
"Looks like I'm winning." He said, as John leaned over and picked up the die; John stuck his tongue out before rolling again. 4, grumbling John moved his figure and placed it on the orange square. As he reached for his card he heard Sherlock boasting; he turned it over.
'Opposite player: Clothes removal'
He pulled back and giggled showing it to Sherlock who instantly went quiet. John was smiling as Sherlock stared at him in horror.
"Surrender the game... or the clothes?" He threw his head back and laughed... instantly stopping as Sherlock stood up and began to undo his shirt.
"Sherlock?" He said with widened eyes, Sherlock looked away and slid the shirt off him before reaching for his trousers.
"S-stop!" John yelped, Sherlock made a protesting noise glancing down at his hands in horror. His trousers fell to his knees leaving him completely naked, John blushed furiously. Sherlock remained quiet, hands clutched to his side as John stared at his body with curious eyes. The skin that had never been exposed to anyone other than himself.
"John... can we stop playing?" He choked out, John nodded eagerly reaching over quickly to shut the game but as he did Sherlock leaned over quietly and picked up the dice.
"Sherlock...?" John whispered, Sherlock grabbed hold of his possessed hand and dropped the dice.
A card slid out of the box. 'Oral Sex.'
Sherlock dropped to his knees and reached out for John's trousers, John made a noise slapping away Sherlock's hands.
"Wha! What are you playing at!" John yelled angrily. Sherlock suddenly glanced up at him with glazed over eyes.
"It's not- me" He stuttered, he threw his naked body on John causing them to fall together, his hands found John's zipper and tugged it down. Sherlock's eyes widened with fear as a force pulled his head down to John's clothed erection.
"Y-you'll..." He gasped, he leaned forward and pushed down John's boxers, revealing the hard flesh.
"Sherlock." John moaned, Sherlock stared up at him, eyes once more glazed over and a devious smirk on his face, and then suddenly he dived down and took all of John in his mouth, bobbling up and down as John groaned at the sensation.
"Like that...yea." John mumbled. Sherlock stared up at him fearfully, air clearly needed. John stared down at Sherlock, eyes glazed over and a smirk playing on his face.
"So good. Mmm gonna..." Sherlock's eyes rolled back as John came down his throat, pulsing around his lips as the thrusting became savage and a yell erupted from John's mouth.
John pulled back slowly, allowing Sherlock to sink down to the floor.
"Oh-oh god Sherlock- I-I'm so sorry." John reached out for his friend but Sherlock flinched from the outstretched hand as it made contact, causing John's hand to fall suddenly and hit the dice. Both figures moved 6 places onto another orange square. A card popped out. 'Fuck'.
Sherlock and John stood up obediently, Sherlock slid into the bed followed by John. Sherlock bit his lip and turned his head as he felt John's cock line up at his ass.
"Don't John...please." He whispered. John pushed forward opening Sherlock abit.
"Not like this- not my first time." Sherlock cried out, tears rolling down his cheeks as the tip went completely inside him. John stared at Sherlock painfully; his hips starting small thrusts.
"I-I'm so sorry Sherlock." He gasped, he bent his head down and leaned his forehead against his sobbing friends.
"I'm so sorry." He cried again. Sherlock passed him at the ceiling in horror as his virginity was stripped from him, he closed his eyes as John pushed forward and was completely inside him.
"It hurts John." He mumbled, eyes widening as the trusts started. John gasped and Sherlock groaned, clutching the bed sheets with white fingers, his grip ceasing when finally some pleasure shook his own body. Sherlock rolled onto his side as John hit his prostate, his own hips rocking back to meet the thrusts.
"JOHN! John, John, John, John, John." Sherlock babbled, John groaned and pulled Sherlock forward, sitting the man in his lap. They stared at one another, John stared at Sherlock apolitically while Sherlock was staring at him with curiously. It was then that Sherlock leaned forward and pressed his lips to John's, a gentle warm kiss, a chime from Big Ben went off and the savage thrusting stopped, Sherlock pulled away slowly, eyes lit with raw emotions.
"You can have me." He whispered. Their bodies had stopped and John pulled out gently before pushing back in softly, his hand came up to rest of Sherlock's cheek.
"I love you. Be mine." He kissed Sherlock, their hands entangling each other's hair.
They both cried out as they came, a burst of white across them both. Sherlock and John both collapsed together breathing hard as they slipped into unconsciousness hand in hand.
Sherlock was the first to wake up, in pain and sticky. He groaned and sat up, ruffling his hair and then glancing down at the naked man beside him; a smile playing on his lips. He glanced at his mirror and saw the two of them, body's entangled with one another's and the sun playing on their features.
Nothing much changed outside that room. Sherlock was still as crude and blunt as ever and John always blindly followed the slightly younger man . But one thing had changed. To those who went into Sherlock's room you'll find stuff that you wouldn't think was his. Clothes to small, an old photo of a mother that was not his, a certificate in medicine. All overflowing in a once empty room.
The game had been wrapped up and given to Harry Watson on the day Clara went for a friendly visit (to smooth things over), safe to say the two are happily back together.
It's been a year since that day. Both the men were deeply in love with one another, so much so that John was flickering through a ring catalogue sat down in Sherlock's chair sipping his tea from the mug labelled.
World's Number 1: Consulting Detective's
YES A HAPPY ENDING AT LAST! But ah the OOC it burns :(