I Have A Questionable Flatmate

A/N: This is my first Johnlock M-rated. Warning you already that it's a bit OOC, but I wanted to make this a bit comedic rather than truly serious considering I watched the for a second time and it was 2:30 in the morning.

Warnings: M-Rated. Homosexual intercourse. Yaoi. Boys love. Whatever you call it. Flames will be used to make smores.

I Have A Questionable Flatmate

"John. You haven't answered the question."

Doctor John Watson looked back up at his flatmate Sherlock Holmes from the spilled coffee on the floor of the flat after the consulting detective's question. The flat was still mildly dusty considering Mrs. Hudson refused to clean it for Sherlock until he properly apologized to her and Lestrade. However, John realized how much he'd missed it after Sherlock dragged him back to the flat just under one month ago. The surprising return of his not-quite-dead friend being a shock, but not completely unpleasant once the doctor had given Sherlock his strongest right hook since his service days.

"Could you repeat it?" John asked, "I can't have heard you correctly."

"Oh for god's sake John, it can't be that different between two men as it is with the more socially acceptable intercourse between the opposite sex." Sherlock gave an annoyed and pointed glare at John.

"Sherlock!" John put a hand and covered his face in embarrassment, "Of course it's different. Not that'd I'd know-but for heaven's sake I'm not going to have sex with you to satisfy some strange curiosity! Sherlock, hell didn't you talk to someone or at least google gay sex for a case at some point? You don't need to...to...well you know what you asked!"

"If I did, I must have deleted it. However it becomes mildly important for the supposedly straight lawyer Eric Rockland considering he claimed to have had a remarkably different experience while having sex with a male prostitute by the name of Dominic Harris; leading to him believing Harris had drugged him. Rockland shot him and I find it better to know if homosexual intercourse and it's effects on the male mind can have the same effects as drugs and/or alcohol." Sherlock stated with an expression that screamed 'dull.'

"Sherlock, you can't just ask me to do something like that. I'm straight." The doctor's face was like a stop light; glowing red with flushed heat from his embarrassment.

"Straight is relative. Using the right means, attraction is possible towards nearly anything or anyone. For instance." Sherlock got up and stalked over towards John who quickly backed away before his escape path became blocked by the couch.

Sherlock smirked and leaned over the doctor with a predatory and slightly cocky look in his enigmatic blue gaze. John gulped as Sherlock leaned down towards his neck, "Sherlock, stop-"

"The spot below your ear. Sensitive to subtle change in temperature." Sherlock lightly blew his hot breath against said spot and John shivered, pushing at his flatmate's chest; slightly pissed off, but also unwillingly becoming aroused.

"Ah! Sherlock, don't you dare start-mmph?!"

Sherlock silenced John effectively by sealing their lips together and biting lightly. John felt another shiver wrack his body and send a wave of heat to his core as Sherlock grabbed John's wrists with an unknown strength before pulling away.

"Don't keep me from my experiments John." Sherlock clicked his tongue, "You should know better."

"What the fuck Sherlock?!" John demanded, trying to break free.

"Such a vulgar language. I'm surprised at you." Sherlock put more pressure on his flatmate's wrists, and switching to holding them with one hand.

John glared, "Shut up! I said no, now stop! This is getting out of hand."

Sherlock sighed and let go of John's wrists, "Dull."

John breathed in relief and stood up to go for a brief walk, his lips still stinging and his confusing arousal lingering on.

**Two Weeks Later**

"You don't make tea." John raised his eyebrow suspiciously at the flatmate in front of him.

"Just drink it or I will John. Really, all these questions are becoming tedious."

John shrugged and sipped at the tea, giving a strange glance to Sherlock as he did so. The man's piercing blue eyes were dark with mischief, and the doctor felt a shiver of apprehension go up his spine as he finished the sweet drink moments later.

"Good?" Sherlock took the cup from John before the doctor had a chance to look in it.

John shrugged and returned to working on his laptop, "Good, yeah. I'll make more for myself later, unless you brewed a whole pot."

"Have as much as you like."

John did. He drank more of the tea, finding through quick inspection that the liquid seemed to smell and taste as it always had.

**Half Hour Later**

"That evil fucking perverted bastard."John panted as he fisted the sheets beneath him.

Heat spread from his leaking prick throughout the rest of his body. Every movement of the sheets against his feverish skin sent jolts of fire to his nerve endings and making his toes curl. He let out a moan as he shifted his body towards the cold side of his bed; shivering in pleasure at the sensations around him.

John recognized all the symptoms and found himself feeling as stupid as Sherlock made him out to be.

Aphrodisiac.

"Oh fuck...ah! Shit." John whined as he ran a hand over his chest, wiping the sweat from his skin in hopes of cool relief, only to set off more fire against his abnormally sensitive skin.

With a small groan of defeat he pressed his head against the pillow and moved his hands down to get rid of his problem at the source.

"oh...ooh, t-that's..." John's mind felt blissful as he slowly dragged his hand along his cock, tugging and moaning as he felt the heat coil slowly inside of him.

He tried to think of Jeanette and other women. But as he fantasized, the hands that touched him in his mind quickly grew to be stronger, pale, and most definitely not the kind of hands John needed to be thinking about.

"Sherlock..." John moaned as he bit his hand.

God, that man's hands. John imagined just how their rough pads would feel wrapped around his aching cock, his own hands moving faster to accommodate to his fantasy.

Sherlock would tease him, the prat. Biting his lips and...oh, just like that.

John's eyes flew open as he felt very real hands suddenly on his chest and soft lips against his own. The lips smirked slightly as the hands pressed harshly against John's hardened nipples, making him cry out.

"Oh, if only you could see yourself right now." Sherlock almost growled before slipping his tongue past John's lips, eagerly pushing his blogger into the mattress like a starved man with his first meal.

John couldn't find it in himself to fight as Sherlock's tongue wrestled with his so hotly that it made his lips burn. He moaned and wrapped his arms around Sherlock's shoulder's, bucking his hips upward.

As Sherlock tore off their clothes, their lips separated, obscenities from the doctor's lips filling the room.

"Oh fuck, S-Sherlock! Sherlock!" John cried as he felt the detective start biting at his neck.

"Mine." Sherlock growled and yanked John upwards so he was seated on top of him, their cocks lightly touching, "You. Are. Mine."

John simply nodded and started gyrating their hips together in heated thrusts. The coiling inside him getting tighter and tighter...

"I-I'm...Sherlock...fuck!" John felt tears in the corner of his eyes as Sherlock reached between them and started pumping their weeping cocks in earnest.

"Cum for me John. Scream my name." Sherlock moaned.

"fuck...fuck! Fuck! Sherlock!" John's hands dug into Sherlock's shoulder's as he wildly fucked against Sherlock's cock erratically. His cock jolting in between them as Sherlock quickly followed behind John's climax. They rode it out pleasantly, both panting loudly into the quiet room as the bed creaked beneath them.

**A Night and a Morning Later**

"John?"

John didn't reply, but merely looked past the man standing in front of him as he sipped his tea (self-brewed) and watched the telly with jaded eyes.

"John, this is getting ridiculous."

Like a switch had been turned on John stood up furiously and pushed Sherlock harshly.

"Me?!" He howled, "Me?! I'M being ridiculous?! How about the bloody fucking aphrodisiac slipped unknowingly into my tea?! Or maybe the sudden animalistic sex-attack?!"

Sherlock didn't reply, but merely grabbed John's shoulders and pulled him in for a chaste kiss that effectively shut him up. Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"You're the one who called my name in the midst of a heated moment , This is hardly my fault...however, it's clear to me now that drugs and homosexual intercourse do seem to have the same end result of euphoric release. Perhaps we should experiment some more to test that theory. Shall we?"

Sherlock would later regret this question once John chased him down Baker Street with gun in hand.