Title: Pictures of You

Author: mdnght2002

Beta: N/A

Series: Sherlock

Character(s): Sherlock/Watson

Genre: Romance

Rating: R

Word Count: 2,613

Summary: What happens when Watson discovers one of Holmes' unusual habits.

Notes: if you do not like m/m action then stop right now! this is not the fanfic for you! please do not flame me because of it. I am warning you now in case you do not like these kind of fics. if you read it and do not like it because it has m/m then it is your fault for reading it in the first place.

It had been a long, stressful day at work. All I wanted to do was get home to my flat and all I wanted to do was put my feet up and do a bit of writing before supper time. Of course with a flat-mate like Sherlock Holmes I never know what he might have up his sleeve today. Halfway home I get a text from Sherlock.

"Busy with an important case. Pick up milk and eggs. SH"

Of course he would be too busy to pick up two simple items from the store. At least I was in the part of town that had a store nearby. I told the cabby my change of destination and gave him a tip after he dropped me off at the store.

After ten minutes of finding the milk and eggs (along with some other items that I had realized that we were getting low or were out of) I hailed a cabby to take me home. Hopefully by the time that I got home Sherlock would be home and could help me fix supper.

I trudged my way up the stairs to my shared flat after paying the second cabby my fee plus another tip. What I saw when I got inside wasn't what I expected. Lying on the couch at the far end of the sitting room, with his back facing the back of it and his legs curled up against one of the pillows that rested near one of the arms, was Sherlock wearing only a blanket that was covering his assets.

In one hand was the book that he had started the other day. He must have fast reading skills because I noticed that he was halfway through the book. I stared at him for a few moments, wondering if he was wearing anything. A few moments later I looked away. He had shifted his body slightly, revealing that he wasn't wearing a single thread on his body other than the blanket.

It seemed like he could sense my discomfort because he glanced up at me and gave me his usual blank stare before giving me a small smile.

"Ah, John, you're back," he said in a slightly chipper tone of voice, something very unusual of him.

"I take it your client already left," I said, my gaze drifting everywhere in the room other than on Sherlock's body. I forced the thoughts that tried to emerge. I didn't want to think of Sherlock in that way at all. I had a girlfriend, for crying out loud. I shouldn't be having any of those thoughts at all.

"What?" he said, a little confused for a few moments. He blinked a few times, finally remembering the text that he had sent me. "Oh, that. I sent him away. He was of no use to me and Mrs. Hudson didn't want anything to do with me after my client left."

He gave me a menacing smile and I forced myself to not shudder at the thought of what he might ask of me. "So, since you are here..." he started to say until his words trailed off as I walked into the kitchen.

"Whatever you want me to do can wait until after supper," I told him firmly as I started to put away the groceries.

"Oh, come on John. It won't take that long at all," he said in a sly voice. I sighed softly to myself as I put away the last of the groceries. He has helped me out quite a bit since I moved in with him. But of course he has gotten me in quite a bit of trouble, too. I had been kidnapped twice because of him but at the same time he had saved me those two times. The least I could do was humor him...right?

Shaking my head, I walked back into the sitting room, dreading what task he wanted me to do. When I got back into the sitting room I half turned to face Sherlock to see that he had removed the blanket that was covering his assets. I could feel my cheeks flushing a bright pink color. The way that he looked at me was of utter curiosity. I looked away as I cleared my throat.

"Alright, what was it that you wanted me to do," I asked him, my voice cracking slightly.

"You see that drawing pad on the coffee table?" he said, pointing to it. My gaze drifted towards it and the graphite pencil that rested on it. I nodded my head slightly at his question. "Good. Pick it up and draw me."

"Excuse me?" My jaw dropped slightly. He wanted me to do what? He had to be joking.

"You heard me. My client wanted a picture of a nude person but he couldn't find anyone to volunteer so he asked me. When he saw my...assets he told me to find someone else to draw me and then to deliver the picture to him when it was done."

I tried not to look at his assets. His current clients seemed to be quite unusual but this one took the cake. I sat down in my usual chair and set the drawing pad on my knees. I hovered the pencil over the paper and gazed over the top of the pad at Sherlock who lay directly in front of me. He stared directly in front of him and out of the window. I turned my gaze towards the window, wondering what the neighbors would think until I realized that the curtains were drawn.

After shifting my body slightly in the chair, I started sketching Sherlock's head. After an hour I had gotten as far down as the middle of his stomach before I realized that I had to draw that area. I cleared my throat and glanced up quickly to see that he was gazing at me.

"Umm...do I have to draw...that area, do I?" I dreaded his answer and I braced myself for it. After a few moments of silence, I looked up to see him smiling at me.

"Of course you do, John. He specifically asked me to be drawn as, and I quote, 'one if his nude French girls'. Of course if you don't feel comfortable doing it, I can always do it myself and keep the half I was going to give you to myself."

That statement made me stop and think. Of course he would say that now once I hesitated doing this task. But I would be a fool for not finishing what I had started. I did need the money...though not that badly. I did have a job, though with Sherlock my life was always turned upside down by his cases. Though I did have to admit I liked tagging along with him every once in a while.

"Alright, I'll finish the bloody drawing for you," I said in a grumpy tone of voice. I didn't like doing it but he was bribing me with half of the payment his client was going to pay him. I couldn't say no to that, could I?

I picked up the pencil again and gazed at his lower regions for a few moments before continuing the drawing. I took my time on it, not wanting to let Sherlock know the dirty thoughts that bubbled up in my mind. I tried to concentrate on the drawing. It was hard to do that when my mind was focused on tossing aside the drawing pad and taking him then and there.

Finally, after almost twenty agonizing minutes, I finished the drawing. I tossed the drawing pad on the coffee table and crossed my legs. I could feel something stirring in my lower region and I didn't want Sherlock to find out about it, though sooner or later he would figure it out. I hoped later rather than sooner.

He wrapped the blanket around his waist as he sat up and picked up the pad. "Brilliant," he whispered to himself. Apparently he loved the drawing. I did draw it to the best of my ability. Now all I hoped was that his client also thought that the drawing was good enough for whatever fee Sherlock charged him.

He gently tore the page out of the pad, folded it twice and then placed it on the table. "Right, I guess I should get dressed now and head..." he started to say until his voice faded away as his gaze landed on me and my uncomfortable position. He raised an eyebrow as he slinked over to me. "You alright John?" His voice held a hint of concern in it...but only a hint.

I managed to nod my head slightly at his question. "Quite alright," I told him in a strained voice. I wish he would hurry up and put some clothes on.

"You sure?" he asked again, drawing the words out slightly. I turned my gaze away from him as he leaned down towards me, his hands gripping the arms of the chair I sat in.

"Yes Sherlock. Now would you please put some bloody clothes on." The words sounded harsher than I intended to make them sound and I glanced at him to see a slightly pained look on his face. I closed my eyes and wished that today would either end right then and there or would restart so that I could redo everything.

"Alright," he said to me, his voice not fully convinced that I was fine. I sighed softly to myself and was about to shove Sherlock away from me when I felt his hand press against the bulge that had formed between my legs. I hissed at the sudden contact of his hand and twitched involuntarily.

"Ah, it seems like I have located the source of the problem," he said in a slightly gloating tone of voice.

"It's nothing. Men get them all the time," I tried to explain to him but his grip tightened, causing me to twitch again.

"Yes but does it happen when two men are alone together, especially when one isn't wearing a single piece of clothing?"

I shook my head, unable to force out words to respond to him. His hand squeezed the bulge again and I grasped his wrist with one on my hands. "Please...don't..." I started to say until he squeezed a third time.

"Don't what? Don't stop or don't do this?" he continued to squeeze. "It seems like you don't want me to stop this, John. At least that's what your body is telling me this very moment."

My cheeks burned a bright red color as I tightened my grip on his wrist. I didn't want to admit that I had been developing feelings for him over the past year that we've been flat-mates. That was the main reason why I had gotten a girlfriend. I had wanted to distract myself from the fact that I was starting to like blokes in a different way than I should be.

"Don't worry, John. This will be our little secret," he told me before he knelt down in front of me. I sat up suddenly as I pulled his hand away from my pants.

"Sherlock, don't do this . It isn't...it isn't proper." I was shaking slightly by this point. I was a little scared of what he might do to me.

"Don't think, John. Let's just savor the moment that we are going to experience together," he said before he pulled his hand free of my grasp. I didn't know why I let him go. I just wanted to get whatever he wanted to do with me over with.

Satisfied that I wouldn't fight him anymore, he slowly unzipped my pants and slid his cold hand into my underpants. I hissed as his cold skin touched my rock-hard manhood. I felt my body sliding down the chair so that it could be closer to him. He gently slid my manhood out of the cloth barrier that separated it from the outside air.

He gently grasped it with one hand while his other hand cupped my balls. He gently started to kneed them with the tips of his fingers and I squirmed under his tender caress. I had imagined him doing this to me for many months but never would I have imagined that he would be doing this to me outside of my dreams.

The tips of his fingers slide from my balls to the base of my manhood and the tenderness deepened slightly. I arched my back slightly and let out a low groan. He saw this as a good sign to press the tip of his thumb on his other hand into my head. I gripped the arms of my chair as I bit my lower lip to keep from crying out.

"Now, time to make things interesting," he said. Before I could ask him what he meant, I felt a sudden wetness envelope my manhood. I gasped at that and bucked my hips towards him slightly. His light grip on my balls tightened slightly because of my actions and I whispered an apology to him. I wasn't expecting him to do that to me.

I shuddered as I felt his tongue sliding up and down the long shaft of my manhood. Surpressing a groan, I leaned back in the chair and felt the pillow digging into my lower back. I decided to keep it there for now. I probably would need it later anyways. The groan escaped my lips a few moments later, though, as Sherlock began to massage my balls gingerly with his fingers. It was hard not to think about what he might do to me next now that he was getting hot and heaving with giving me oral sex.

Since I was already aroused the first moment that I walked into the sitting room, it didn't take me too long to reach my climax. "Sherlock...I'm going..."I started to tell him in a strained voice, trying to hold back from releasing in his mouth. In response he pulled my manhood deeper into his throat. I gripped the arms of the chair. His massage on my balls hardened and I bit my lower lip. I didn't want to but instinct caved into logical thinking. I released all the cum that had been pent up within me into his warm mouth. I lay limp in the chair, breathing heavily as if I had just gotten done running ten miles at a dead run. I saw out of the corner of my eye Sherlock grabbing something but I was too tired to think much of it. I jerked upright when he dabbed the object that he grabbed on my manhood.

"Seems like someone is still a little aroused despite just getting head from the one and only Sherlock Holmes."

I rubbed the bridge of my nose with my right hand. "No, I didn't expect you to clean me up afterwards, that's all," I said to him in a tired tone of voice.

"Ah," was all he said in response. Smiling slightly, he stood up and grabbed my hand, forcing me to stand. "Why don't we finish this in the bedroom where Mrs. Hudson can't find out about our little secret...that and we don't want to make too much of a mess for her to clean up."

I nodded my head as I allowed him to lead me towards his bedroom. What was I going to tell my girlfriend? I mentally shook my head at myself. No, I couldn't tell her. This had to be our (mine and Sherlock's) little secret.

Author's end notes: if any of you want me to write another chapter of this fic please say so in the comments. Thanks!