How Watson Learned the Trick
No warnings on this one. I don't warn for smut, I assume that's why you are here!
John leaned his elbows on the bar and adjusted his position slightly, improving his view of the door in the mirror behind the bartender. He caught himself rubbing the empty place on his left ring finger for the third time and picked up his beer glass instead. He had worn the wedding ring for less than a year, yet he missed it terribly since taking it off.
He took a sip of his beer and refrained from checking the time. He had deliberately come down to the bar early to allow himself time to settle down before his contact arrived. He knew without looking the positions of the two exits to the street, the door to the kitchen and to the men's room. He was as ready for this meeting as he would ever be.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the door to the local open and close. He knew immediately from the man's height that this was his contact, and he could feel anticipation coiling in his gut. What sort of man would he be? Easy to fool, or smart? Would he be posh and classy or someone ordinary looking? It was impossible to know. His contact would be in disguise anyway.
He sensed without looking that the man had taken a position at the other end of the bar, too far away for casual conversation. Damn. It would be up to him to initiate contact. He suppressed a sigh.
Then, reconsidering, he sighed aloud and looked impatiently at his watch. He turned around and looked at the pub door with ill-concealed dissatisfaction and clicked his tongue with frustration. He saw his movements catch the eye of the man at the end of the bar.
John turned towards the stranger and gave a rueful smile. "Looks like I've been stood up."
The man shrugged without giving a verbal reply, tossing his head as if to say, "Why should I care?"
Double damn. Why couldn't his life ever be easy? John picked up his almost-full glass and waved it at the man. "Join me for a beer for half an hour? We're both here anyway and it's a shame to drink alone."
"Why not?" the man replied, "I'm more of a vodka drinker though." As he came closer, John's eyes widened involuntarily. The man was tall, as previously described, but apart from that he looked nothing like what John had subconsciously expected. He was wearing a tight black tee-shirt that showed off his build, although John noted with disapproval that the line of his shoulder was slightly spoiled by a cigarette packet tucked into the sleeve. His eyes were drawn to the large silver belt buckle, but he forced them back up to the man's face. He noted in passing that the man was not wearing jeans, but dark cords. The exact colour was difficult to make out in the dim light of the bar, but either a deep red or brown and they clung to his long legs, making them look like they went on for decades.
The man looked a good ten years younger than John, although John knew he couldn't possibly be as young as he appeared. His skin was very pale, making his long black eyelashes a stunning frame for his incredible bright green eyes. Was he wearing a touch of eyeliner? Contact lenses, had to be. No-one's eyes were that colour naturally. The bright green drew the eye and held it, making the rest of the man's face blur into indistinctness.
John realized with a start that he hadn't answered the man's implied question. "Sure, whatever you like. I'm John Morstan, by the way." He held out his hand.
The man took it in a firm grip. His hands were soft and warm and much larger than John's own. John wanted to feel them sliding up under his shirt. Later, he promised himself. Work first, play after.
"William Barlow."
No real names were being used tonight, it appeared. "So, William, what do you do with yourself when you aren't hanging around in bars?" John allowed his eyes to slide away, as if the answer didn't matter at all.
"I'm a dentist."
John allowed one eyebrow to rise. This had to be a test. Such a claim was frankly unbelievable, but why? Why? John racked his brain to put together the clues his subconscious was telling him were there.
"I find that rather difficult to believe, considering you have ink stains all over your right hand. Dentists wear gloves, and these days they rarely hand write their notes anyway." John ground to a halt. What else? There was something else… Ah, he had it!
"And you would never get away with a cat hair on your shirt in a dentist's office." John leaned forward and picked a white cat hair off William's shoulder. "The dental nurse would have a fit."
William gave a soft murmur of appreciative acknowledgement. "So then, John, are you some kind of private investigator, then?"
"No," said John with a smile, "I'm a consulting detective."
William looked surprised for a moment. "You just made that up - there's no such thing."
John shrugged but did not deny the charge.
William shot him a sly glance, then asked challengingly, "So what is my job then, Mr Detective?"
John tried not to panic, instead giving the man a long, cool once-over. "A job mostly alone, or someone would have noticed the cat hair, you might even work from home. That would explain both the cat hair and the casual tee-shirt, which is much too tight for most offices."
"How do you know I didn't go home and change after work?" pouted William.
"Not possible given the time of day and the state of your shoes," shot back John immediately. "You do something with writing, but I don't think you are an author… freelance editor would be my guess."
"Well done, John! What else can you discover about me just by looking?" William turned more fully to face him and spread his hands in sarcastic surrender. John took the move as an invitation to slide closer.
"I can see that you are very fit. Lean though, not bulky so I guess either a runner or a swimmer, not a gym junkie. More likely a runner, with hair like that you wouldn't want to get it wet every day. You smoke, but you don't drink much and you watch what you eat." John was very close to William now, close enough to see that not only was he wearing eyeliner but he had on a full face of makeup. It was subtle but definite.
John dropped his voice to an intimate whisper, "You're here to find a gay hook-up, and you find me attractive. You'd like to take me back to your place and shag me senseless."
John leaned back slightly and said in a more normal tone, "So tell me, am I wrong?"
William leaned over him, using his height to his advantage. He spoke in a low voice, "Completely right. Am I going to get lucky?"
John turned back to his beer. "Not just yet, we have some more information to exchange first."
William chuckled slightly, deep and low in his chest. "That's a yes, then. Let's go, we can talk more in the taxi."
John frowned. "I haven't finished my drink yet, and you haven't touched yours."
"Oh, very well," William sighed. He picked up his vodka shot and tossed it back. He replaced the glass on the bar, and as he did so the gesture caused the light to catch on a gold ring on William's left hand. Was he wearing a wedding band?
At John's involuntary stare, William followed his gaze. "The wedding ring?" William shrugged. "I could take it off, but I figure that if it doesn't bother me it shouldn't bother you."
The bartender had been hovering near them in case they wanted to order another drink, but seeing William's posture and closeness to John, he gave them a look of disgust and moved away again. John had no difficulty deducing that he had no problem with two men getting together, but that he thought John was a home wrecker seducing a married man. Or else that a married man had no business cruising a bar looking for men to pull. Not enough data to know for sure. Anyway, this wasn't what it looked like, so the bartender was wasting his energy disapproving.
William reached out with one long finger to caress the white band on John's tanned left hand. "So what's your sad story, then?"
John shrugged with one shoulder. "The usual. We drifted apart. Mary and I used to work together but then she got fed up with the dreadful hours, the getting called away in the middle of the night, and so on. One day I got back after a long case and she was gone. Left a note saying that I could find her if I really wanted to."
"But you didn't really want to?"
"I think that's enough about my ex-wife. I'd rather talk about you and your… work. Working from home must give you lots of opportunity to make… online contacts."
William shrugged non-committally. "Not the kind of contacts I can talk about in a public place. If you want the kind of information I think you want, we need to go somewhere more private." He raised one sculpted eyebrow inquiringly. "And what are you prepared to give me for it?"
"What do you want?" John equivocated, and from William's frown, knew instantly he'd made a mistake. Damn. He should know already what William wanted. He ran quickly through the usual motivations of men, searching for clues to the best fit. Drugs? Unlikely. Money? Maybe. Political influence? No, nothing about this man spoke of an interest in either politics or blackmail. Sex? Yes, definitely. Well, John had no problems offering that, but he had better not seem too eager.
"Let me make a few suggestions," he murmured. "We can go to the loo here and I can suck you off while you tell me about three of your online contacts, or we can go back to your place and for half an hour alone on your computer I'll do whatever you like for an hour."
William licked his lips, but was obviously playing it cool. "If my computer is locked, half an hour won't do you much good. It will take you longer than that to crack my password. What if I had some of my contacts on a USB, together with the supporting data to prove their involvement? What would that be worth to you?"
John tilted his head as he considered the offer. It was true he was not as good at deducing passwords as Sherlock, and that time would have to be subtracted from his half hour. He should have asked for an hour. Anyway, supporting data would be worth a lot. "How many contacts on that USB? If it is more than ten, you can come back to my place for the whole night."
"Done." William turned and strode out the door, leaving John scrambling to catch up.
John hit the footpath outside the pub just as a taxi pulled up in front of William. He slid into the back without checking to see if John was behind him. John leaned forward and instructed the driver "221 Baker Street" then sat back and tried to catch his breath. This was all going much faster than he had anticipated.
William looked at him, then slid across into the middle seat so that his long thigh lay against John's shorter one. "Baker Street? Nice part of town. I like that." William breathed in John's ear, his voice low and so soft that John only just caught the words, "I like you."
John smirked a small smile, "I bet you say that to all the boys."
William sighed warmly against John's cheek, "No, only the ones I intend to make long, slow love to for the whole night…"
John turned to face William properly. "What would your loving spouse say to hear you talking like that?"
William chuckled low and dark. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him. Besides, he'd probably enjoy watching us together. I think we will look lovely together, don't you?"
The taxi lurched to a halt before John could reply.
"Baker Street" said the driver, shortly. John paid, then unlocked the front door and gestured for William to precede him inside.
He froze when he heard Mrs Hudson's voice call out "John? Is that you?"
Shit! This could to ruin everything! He gave William a sharp shove in the middle of the back to get him moving up the stairs and turned to face Mrs Hudson, just coming out of 221A.
"Mrs Hudson," he exclaimed with slightly overdone friendliness. "Was there a message for me?"
"Yes, dear, a package actually. I'll just get it for you." She peered up the stairs as William disappeared around the corner. "Was that a new client? Shall I bring up some tea and biscuits?"
"No thank you Mrs Hudson, you're not our housekeeper. I'll do the entertaining. A new client, yes, in a manner of speaking."
"Oh, very well. It's no trouble though. I have some of that fruit cake that Mycroft likes so much."
"Just the package, thank you. It's a bit late for cake."
"Goodness yes, so it is, but your clients call at all hours, don't they? I remember that Henry fellow, came so very early, quite uncivilised…" She disappeared into her own flat and John breathed a sigh of relief.
The package was a simple folder of documents, probably just his copy of the transcript of his last testimony for Lestrade. He escaped upstairs with it and tossed it on the kitchen table without opening it.
Before he could turn around, he was trapped against the table by a long body being pressed firmly against him. He could feel something else long and firm being pressed against him too. Time to get back to the game.
"Nuh-uh," he warned. "None of that. I don't put out until you do."
"What?" There was a low laugh from behind him but the pressure against his body didn't ease. "And after you promised to 'entertain' me too! You don't trust me?"
"No," replied John shortly. "You haven't even told me your real name."
William shrugged, as he backed away. "You haven't told me yours either."
John feigned a wounded innocent look. "You just heard my landlady call me by it!"
William snorted. "Easy to set up. Anyway 'John' is about as anonymous as it is possible to be in London. You could be using your real first name and a fake surname."
John tried not to look annoyed as he folded his arms over his chest. "Anyway, names aside, is this deal going down or not? Time to cough up or leave."
William smirked, "Going down? Well yes, that's the question isn't it? Do I get a free sample first?"
"Nope," John smiled. "It's all or nothing around here."
"Fine, let's get on with it then." William fished around in his jacket pocket and produced a USB which he threw down on the kitchen table. "That's your half of the bargain, now I want what's mine."
John snatched up the memory stick and ducked around the other side of the table. "Just as soon as I check what's on here. You can go to the bedroom and undress if you like." William stared at him stonily. "Or not."
John opened up his computer and plugged in the USB, quickly opening the files and checking that they contained readable information. He had been fooled before with empty files, this time he was going to take the extra minute to check… yes, names and details all present and correct.
William's astonishing green eyes were watching his every move. "Satisfied?" he finally remarked, "Can we get on with the good bit now?"
John closed his computer and took William's hand. "Of course. The bedroom is this way."
John led the way and guided William to sit on the edge of the bed. It was rather nice being in charge for a change. Sherlock was always so bossy.
John dropped his voice to his lowest, sexiest register. "Take your clothes off slowly, then lie back…"
"And think of England?" interrupted William, snidely.
"You're a filthy traitor to England," said John flatly.
William shrugged carelessly. "It's a living. But since I'm paying a lot for this encounter with you, I expect you to do all the work. So go ahead; entertain me." He shed his clothes quickly, then lay flat on his back on the bed, his arms spread out, apparently submissive except for a challenging expression and a raging erection.
"Oh, don't worry about that," said John, naked himself now, as he crawled up over William's body. "You just let me explore your body and I will deduce what you like best. I'm the Consulting Detective, remember?"
William hummed a wordless response and closed his eyes.
John took his time, working his way around William's long expanse of lean torso and belly with light touches of his fingertips and tongue. William's right nipple was more sensitive than his left, convenient for John's dominant hand. With fingers and tongue John teased both nipples into little peaks, then leaned up and bit William's neck, soothing the spot immediately with his tongue. Yes, William liked that, arching his back and jerking his hips up to try to come into contact with John somewhere.
"Ssshh, wait for it," John murmured softly, "You'll get it when I decide you are ready for it."
"M'ready now," whined William. John chuckled, "Oh, we aren't half-way there yet. Unless…" he paused, "I could give you a little tease now, just so you know exactly what you are waiting for?" Without giving William time to answer John slid down his body and took William's fully erect cock firmly in his hand. He closed his lips over the head and gave three firm strokes with hand and mouth, then released both and quickly moved away. William groaned, his hips thrusting into empty air.
"You are eager," chuckled John, "Been too long, has it? Nobody wants to jump into bed with their fence?"
William scowled. "Is that memory stick the only kind of stick I'm going to be able to give you? I was promised entertainment, and I wasn't thinking of stand up comedy."
"Awww, little Billy doesn't like waiting, is that it?" mocked John. "Don't worry, it will be worth the wait." John trailed his fingernails lightly down William's long lean body, down the outside of his thigh to the knee, then dragged his nails excruciatingly slowly up the insides of William's thighs. Sliding down to reposition himself, John used both hands to anchor William's hips firmly to the bed. Then he leaned down and breathed lightly over the tip of William's leaking erection. It jumped in response, as if hoping to leap into his mouth. John laughed a little to himself. He enjoyed being in control and he was going to torture William until they were both aching.
John applied his tongue ever so lightly to the underside of William's erection, flicking the tip over the head, breathing, touching and teasing until William was gasping and trying to buck John's hands off his hips.
John slid up to lie next to William again, and whispered breathily in his ear, "So, how would you like to do this? I'm not promising you'll get what you ask for, mind, I'm just interested in your opinion on what you might like."
William's unholy green eyes burned into his. Odd colour. John decided he didn't like it. He liked pale blue eyes, like ice but with a strange warmth given by the little gold flecks that were only visible very close. Only the Welsh word glas ever really captured their unique beauty. Damn, William was talking and he missed it. Ah well, he could guess from the suggestive drift of William's hands down his body what he wanted.
"Very well," said John aloud, "I intended to get a leg over tonight anyway, it might as well be now."
Suiting action to words, John swung himself up so that he was sitting across both of William's thighs, but slightly further back, so that their groins were not quite touching. Rolling his hips he ground down, rutting against William's leg and moaning provocatively.
"Little cock-tease," breathed William.
"It's only teasing if I don't follow through," replied John with a smirk.
John leaned forward and spread himself skin to skin over William's chest, rubbing their chests together for a moment. Then, having secured what he needed from his bedside table, he sat up again.
William eyed the large dildo warily. "And what exactly do you plan to do with that?"
"Oh, don't worry, sweetheart," said John, quickly lubing it thoroughly. "This isn't for you. It's for me."
He slowly but smoothly worked the length of it into himself, rocking his hips and sighing out the tension in his body to ease the penetration. As he rolled his hips, his eager cock brushed against William's erect prick a few times, causing them both to groan.
"I… was promised entertainment," gasped William, "and so far it looks like you are having more fun than I am."
"It'll be worth it, just don't rush me." John snapped. Bloody inconsiderate bastard.
Once the dildo was firmly seated, John pushed his hips forwards and rubbed lightly against William, then with more pressure. Finally, he brought his already wet hands up and grasped both of their cocks, pushing them together as he pumped his hips. They moaned in unison at the delicious friction the movement created.
John could feel William's large hands cupping his arse, urging him to go faster and harder. John pushed the pace, and as he did so, felt William's right hand drifting down to the base of the dildo.
"Yes," John hissed, "Fuck me now."
William did not need to be told twice. He wrapped his long fingers around the dildo and moved it slowly in and out of John's body. Due to the angle, he wasn't able to move it very far, but John found that if he used his thigh muscles to lift up slightly, then relax down again he could let his body weight drive it into his body very satisfactorily. He only needed to lean forward a fraction more, just to get the right angle… The head of the dildo pressed solidly into his sweet spot, and John heard a hoarse cry escape his lips. He rose up and slid down again. God, that was fantastic.
William seemed to be getting into the groove too, and he had taken over stroking their dicks at some point after John's focus had become distracted. He was setting up a very nice counterpoint rhythm to John's rise and fall, and John could feel the eager heat coiling tighter and tighter in his core. He wanted one more thing before the big finish though.
"Want to feel you," he gasped. "Come and take me."
William gave a low groan, as with a dextrous twist of the wrist he slid the rubber cock out of John's body. "Oh yes, that's what I want,' he replied, as his hands on John's arse pulled him further up his body and into position. John held his body poised just at the tip of William's dick, but with too much tension in his legs for William to force him down onto it. William's hips were anchored to the bed by John's weight, though he tried to thrust up to enter John.
"Come on, what more do you want?" William growled. "You are not exactly in a position to demand more information from me."
"I just wanted to show you who is in control here," said John sweetly. "I'm on top and you love it, don't you? You're desperate and gasping for the sweet release that I'm going to give you, aren't you? You crave me and all you can think about is when am I going to let you worship my body properly, isn't that right? Say it."
"Oh God," rumbled William from beneath him, "Yes! Yes, to all of it. Anything you want, just let me have you right here, right now."
John hovered, teasing, for a few more breaths just letting the tip of William's cock rub at the entrance to his body, until he couldn't stand it any more. Then he drove himself down until William was fully sheathed inside him.
They both groaned at the sensation of deep penetration, deep connection.
"Oh yes, so good."
"Just like that, oh God, more…"
John was almost sobbing with need, and when William stroked his cock with a twist of his wrist around the head, he was gone. He felt his whole body clenching around William as the pleasure ricocheted through his body, and William grunted with surprise beneath him, then groaned and John felt William's hips jerk up involuntarily as lightning whited out his vision.
John collapsed forwards onto William's chest, pressing his cheek to the slightly sweaty skin there and hearing William's heart thundering under his ear. He vaguely regretted being so absorbed in the moment that he had missed William's climax, but after a shattering orgasm like that "regret" did not seem exactly the right word to be using.
William's hands were wandering over his back and arse with light touches, as if memorizing every bit of his body. He was murmuring soft words that sounded like "amazing" and "fantastic" and John wanted to just lie still and bask in the unusual sentiment of the moment.
After a few minutes of basking, he realized that he was getting cold and sticky. He shifted his hips slightly and felt William slide out of him, followed by the inevitable gush of wetness which John always hated. He winced and with a last kiss and a sigh, he reached over for the box of tissues beside the bed and started cleaning them up.
John woke curled up on side with his cheek resting on a bare warm shoulder. This was nice. His pleasant drowse had been broken by the shoulder in question moving slightly under his cheek and threatening to dislodge him. He slapped the bare chest under his head and grumbled "Hold still. Sleeping."
The movements stopped for a moment, then resumed more stealthily. He opened his eyes to see a long arm reaching into the clothes on the floor and groping around for the cigarette packet.
He sat up, instantly fully awake. "Sherlock! Don't you dare smoke in here!"
Sherlock returned a cheeky grin. "Staying in character? Don't you think 'William' would want a post-coital cigarette after a fantastic shag like that?"
John rolled his eyes. "Forget it. No way." He yawned and stretched, then reached into his own bedside drawers for his wedding ring. He slipped it on with a sigh of satisfaction. Remembering, he looked up at Sherlock. "Why did you leave your wedding ring on, by the way? That bartender thought you were having an affair."
Sherlock lay back against the headboard of their bed and pulled John down to rest against his chest again. "A married man looking for a quick tumble is too common to be remarked on, and the kind of thing that causes people to look away as quickly as possible. An empty space where a ring has been removed requires explanation, as you discovered earlier tonight."
John groaned. "Do we have to do the full debrief right now? Can't it wait until tomorrow morning? I'm tired, and you need to take off all that make-up and those ridiculous contact lenses."
Sherlock pouted, "They are not ridiculous! One really remarkable feature draws the eye and the memory. Nine out of ten people who saw me tonight will describe me as a 'young man, bright green eyes' so I wash off the makeup and take out the contact lenses and voila - I no longer match that description. The simplest disguises are the best."
John sighed. "All right, if we have to do it now just give me the bad news and get it over with. Did I give myself away at all?"
"Actually no. I think it was a good decision going with 'John' as a first name. An inspired selection by your parents - they must have known you were going to get into trouble. And 'Morstan' is close enough to 'Watson' that your instinctive response to it works as well as if it were your real name. Good choice. I thought you were going to panic when Mrs Hudson came out unexpectedly, but you finessed it well enough."
John grinned and punched Sherlock lightly in the ribs.
Sherlock kissed his forehead quickly in return. "You did a fairly good job on me…"
John interrupted him with a kiss and a salacious grin, "It certainly sounded like it!"
Sherlock gave a mock-frown. "John, be serious please! You didn't fall for my 'dentist' assertion, and this time you remembered to check the product properly before jumping into bed. You got three of my planted clues - the cat hair, the shoes and the ink stain. There were seven more that you missed."
John groaned.
"Never mind, John. It's a very simple trick, learning to observe as well as to see. With a little more practice I've no doubt you will soon acquire it. For next Friday's date night I think we should go a little down-market. There's a place near the docks, I'll text you the address. Your contact's name is Captain Basil…"
THE END
(of the first scene)
A/N: I have a second scene in mind, but nothing after that so for this story series only I am open to suggestions. If you have a particular scene you'd like to see John and Sherlock acting out, leave me a review! Comments are love!