Get Sherlock Some...More
"I need some, get me some!", Sherlock shouted. John sighted. Another rant, then. As if he didn't already have enough of this day. And a rant about cigarettes, of all things! Without any context, the detective's exclamation would almost sound like... The doctor tried to get rid of that thought, of Sherlock wanting... But then John had hoped that spending more time with the detective would lead to – well, something! Sherlock couldn't only be interested in cases. With this brilliant mind of his, he must have realised by now that there could be another climax of the day – pun intended – than a solved case.
The detective huffed and therefore annoyed John out of his thoughts. Yes, Sherlock now seemed to be all too interested in something else than a case: cigarettes. But just before the doctor's mood could go completely down the drain, a potential client arrived.
Henry Knight's story didn't sound like a case to John, to be honest, but with Sherlock, one never knew... Of course, the detective was behaving utterly impossible again, but, seeing Henry suffering, the doctor interfered quickly. "Sherlock!" "What?" "Just try to be nicer..." Sherlock sighed. "Ok Henry, would you PLEASE go on with your story?", he asked, rolling his eyes. And so Henry went on and on, until he eventually started telling them his late father's favourite flavour of ice cream and which TV channels he used to watch, facts, which even to John seemed irrelevant.
"Oh, shut up and let's get it on!", Sherlock suddenly shouted. John and Henry stared at him. "What?", John finally asked. "Oh, come on, John," the detective said, "if I can't have cigarettes, I have to have sex. And, I clearly can't have sex with you, as you aren't gay." Henry still gawped at him. "How do you know that I am gay?" "Obvious, isn't it?", Sherlock snarled. "Now: bedroom or couch?" Henry kept staring at him, open-mouthed. "Oh, don't worry about John," the detective said. "I'm sure he'll go for a walk to 'get some air' or something."
John suddenly laughed. "Do you really want to do this, Sherlock? Have you thought this through? It's not like you have to do this, you know..." "I'm not a virgin, if that's what you think," Sherlock scowled, "don't believe everything my brother says." "I'm really flattered," Henry had finally managed to stop staring, "but, actually, you're not my type." John and Sherlock stared at him in disbelieve. Had this guy just said the brilliant, absolutely mind-blowingly gorgeous Sherlock Holmes was not his type?
"No offence," Henry muttered. "No offence taken," the detective replied, "but what's your type, then?" "Um, a bit more muscular, maybe a bit older than you... oh, and I have a thing for the military, uniforms and stuff." Sherlock looked at John. "You got no choice, then." "What?" "You will have to join in." "What." "You said that already. Now, my bedroom or yours?" Sherlock started fidgeting, no longer able to sit still. "A threesome?", Henry asked, "that could work..."
Suddenly, John snapped out of his stupor. "Are you too completely out of your minds!? For Christ's sake, Henry, your are obviously not over your father's death yet and now you want to bloody SHAG. I don't know what got into you, Sherlock, but you bloody well know that I'm not gay, so I will certainly NOT 'join in'!"
Henry shuddered, liking his lips. Addressing Sherlock, he asked: "Does he do that often? That was kind of hot." The detective smiled. Then he leaned in, kissing Henry full on the lips. Henry kissed back, clutching Sherlock's neck to pull the detective further down to him. John could only stare in awe. Soon, Henry slightly opened his mouth to let Sherlock's tongue in and the detective made quick use of the opportunity. The kiss became more passionate, making the detective moan softly. John was still only staring. Even though he had gotten hard by now, he felt completely paralyzed, unable to move. Sherlock's hands wandered under Henry's shirt, making it now the other man's turn to moan.
"Oh, for Christ's sake!", John suddenly shouted, getting up and pulling off his jumper. The other two men turned round, staring at John, this time. "You got me." John raised his arms in mock-surrender. "I give up." "Feel free to keep on shouting and swearing, John," Sherlock said and turned his attention back to Henry.
John moved behind Sherlock and started unbuttoning the younger man's shirt, while the detective kept snogging Henry. John bent down and nuzzled Sherlock's neck, being rewarded by a loud moan. "You like that, don't you?", he whispered into the detective's ear. The detective hummed approval. Henry now helped getting Sherlock's shirt off by pulling it out of his trousers. Sherlock, in turn, started pulling on Henry's jumper, which resulted in a tangle of arms and clothes. John laughed into Sherlock's neck. "Stop that," Sherlock hummed, "that tickles."
Before John could loose it completely, Sherlock got up, removed his shirt himself and let it fall to the floor. Henry looked up at him in amazement. "Wow, you look gorgeous." "Not your type, eh?", John chuckled. Sherlock clucked his tongue in disapproval. "Henry, you're way too dressed," he said and made quick process of Henry's jumper and shirt. "Also not bad," he mused, running his hands over the other man's upper body. John growled behind them. "You two..."
Suddenly, Sherlock turned around, pushed John against the next wall and snogged him mercilessly. Being surprised like that was nothing for Captain John Watson, though, so he got hold of Sherlock's chin to slow the kiss down and then nudged the detective's lips open with his tongue. Entering his flatmate's mouth with his tongue, John growled again, but this time in bliss.
Henry moved behind them and squeezed Sherlock's ass, making the detective moan with pleasure. He then moved his hands between the two kissing man and started opening Sherlock's trousers. "Wait!", the detective said, breaking away from the kiss. "John first!" The doctor frowned. "Why me first?" "More layers," the detective explained, continuing snogging John while opening his trousers and pushing them down. Henry laughed and removed his trousers as well.
Then he returned to Sherlock's trousers and as expected the detective didn't wear any pants. When Henry started stroking these amazing cheeks, Sherlock stopped kissing John again. "Bedroom," he said and the two men in pants followed the gloriously naked detective into his bedroom.