Fic written for Johnlockchallenges's October prompts "Are you really going to wear that?" and "Spiking the punch".
Summary: John and Sherlock go to the Yard's Halloween party and Sherlock discovers that childhood dreams can always end up as a good fantasy.
Warnings: A bit of smut. Not very graphic, but it's there.
"Come on, John. What's taking you so long?" yelled Sherlock from the couch. Not only did he have to leave his experiment unattended, but John also had to drag him to the Yard's Halloween party. The least John could do was hurry up. The sooner they got there, the sooner he would be able to come back home and delete the whole ordeal from his mind.
"It's been only five minutes Sherlock, calm down. And stop sulking." The detective merely glared at the bedroom door and sank further into the couch.
"So," said John a couple of minutes later, coming out of their bedroom, "what do you think?"
"... Are you really going to wear that?" asked Sherlock, trying to fight off the grin spreading on his face, but failing. Maybe tonight wasn't going to be as dreadful as he thought.
John's outfit wasn't that different from what he usually wore. What Sherlock actually found ridiculous were the added hat and eye patch, and the plastic sword attached to John's belt.
"What's wrong with this?"
"John. You're dressed as a pirate. What are you, a six-year-old?" Sherlock snorted. "I thought you would pick something more suitable for your age."
"Oh, come on Sherlock, it's Halloween. You could at least pretend to be excited. You agreed to come, after all." He nudged Sherlock's legs and sat on the couch beside him. "Speaking of which, where is your costume?"
"I'm wearing it. I dressed up as a consulting detective. Brilliant, isn't it?"
"Sherlock, come on. You promised you would at least try to make an effort. This," he said, pointing to the detective, "isn't an effort. I even picked up a costume for you, which in comparison to how the others will be dressed, it's pretty subtle."
"John, I wouldn't classify a vampire costume as 'subtle'. Besides, it's extremely cliché."
"At least it's not over the top. I only got you a cape and some vampire fangs."
"You're delusional if you think I will use vampire fangs. And the cape is plain ridiculous. There's nothing wrong with my costume, John."
"You know what? Forget it." John huffed and got up. "You don't have to go if you don't want to, Sherlock. Just stay here and work on one of your experiments."
I don't even know why I bother sometimes, thought John, making his way into the kitchen.
He was about to prepare a cup of tea when he felt Sherlock's arms slid around his waist from behind.
"I upset you." He pressed his forehead on the crook of John's neck and tightened his grip for a moment. John sighed and turned his head to press a kiss on Sherlock's curls, unable to stay mad for long. "I don't understand why this is so important to you."
"I know you don't like interacting with people Sherlock, I just... I think we'll have a good time. It'll only be for a couple of hours, I promise. Please?"
Loosening his hold, Sherlock turned John around and pinned him gently against the counter. He looked thoughtfully at him for a moment but then drew a small, resigned smile.
"All right John, I'll go. But I'm not wearing the vampire costume." He knew it was going to be painfully boring, but the warm smile John gave him in response would make everything worth it.
Scratch that. This was a terrible idea.
They had been at the party for only half an hour, but Sherlock could already feel the boredom setting in. He was trying to be civil, if only for John's sake, but he knew it wasn't going to last for long.
"Hey Sherlock, there you are. John's been looking for you. Enjoying the party?" asked Lestrade, smiling politely at him.
"That would depend on your definition of 'enjoying', Lestrade. It is... interesting; that's for sure."
"It would be better if you were doing something besides hiding in the corner," said John, appearing next to Lestrade and handing Sherlock a drink.
"Where are Donovan and Anderson? I thought you were keeping an eye on them. The last time I left them alone at one of the Yard's parties we found them completely drunk and doing it in Dimmock's office," said Lestrade, shuddering at the memory. "Even if we agreed to keep the drinks nonalcoholic since then, I still don't trust them on their own."
"Yes, well, Wonder Woman and Spiderman were getting a bit too handsy. Either I left them to it or I ripped out my eyeballs." John gave Lestrade an apologetic smile.
"Oh, Christ. I better look for them now. There's still a chance they're still clothed." He downed his drink in one gulp and handed the glass to John.
"You can go home if you want to," said John as soon as Lestrade was out of sight.
"What? Why would I want to leave?"
"I can tell you're bored already. I'm sorry I forced you to come."
Sherlock sighed and stepped closer to John, placing a kiss on the man's temple.
"It's not so bad. With a bit of luck, I'll be able to see Lestrade's traumatized expression when he realizes Donovan and Anderson went to his office this time."
"Oh god, are you serious?" John giggled and shook his head in amusement. "All right you nutter, let's make a deal. If you behave tonight, I promise I'll let you do that experiment you wanted to try out."
"Really?" Sherlock's eyes brightened up. "You'll let me tie you up with the scarf?"
"Keep your voice down," said John, embarrassed. "But yes, I will. As long as you play nice."
"What part of 'play nice' didn't you get?" They made their way into the flat and John went straight into the kitchen to make some tea, trying to calm himself down. "An hour Sherlock. I asked you to be patient for only one hour. How did you manage to make such a disaster so fast is beyond me."
"John, you're overreacting. I just wanted to make the evening a little more interesting," said Sherlock, leaning on the kitchen's entrance with his arms crossed.
"You spiked the punch, Sherlock," huffed John. "And of course, you had to make it a challenge and ask yourself 'How much vodka can I pour in it without people noticing?'"
"A lot, apparently. Either that or everyone was so eager to get drunk that they didn't even question where the alcohol came from. I'm inclined to go with the second option, considering how boring the party was."
"Why do I even bother?" John muttered to himself. Even if he was mad at Sherlock, he did have to admit that the evening turned out a bit more enjoyable after the punch incident.
He turned around to grab the milk, but was instantly pinned against the counter; Sherlock's lips moving frantically against his. He let himself be kissed for a minute, but then remembered that it wouldn't be convenient to let the incident slip, or Sherlock might be inclined to do something like this again.
He placed his hands on Sherlock's chest and pushed him away gently.
"What?"
"We're not having sex tonight."
"Oh come on John, you can't be that mad. Besides, we both know you'll change your mind soon enough," he said, sneaking his hand under John's shirt and caressing the small of his back.
"And we both know that manipulating me will only make me angrier."
"John."
"Sherlock."
"All right, fine. I'm sorry."
"Sherlock, I told you it was fine if you wanted to leave. I know you get bored easily."
Sherlock avoided his eyes, clearly wanting to drop the subject.
"It wasn't because I was bored. Not entirely, at least."
"What do you mean?" Asked John, confused. "Why did you do it, then?"
"I-" He cleared his throat and looked at John, unable to conceal his shame. "I saw you with that woman. She was being a bit too friendly, and I may have... overreacted a bit," he said, trying to look nonchalant.
"You are telling me you got jealous of-" John looked puzzled for a second, before bursting out laughing. "Oh god Sherlock, she wasn't flirting."
"What do you mean she wasn't flirting? Of course she was. I saw her. She was laughing, and touching your arm, and all those stupid things people do when they like someone."
John grinned fondly at him and stroked his cheekbone. "Sherlock, she wasn't flirting with me. She was telling me how adorable she thought we were, and congratulated me in name of all the Yarders for making you less insufferable during crime scenes." John started to laugh again at Sherlock's shocked expression. "I wouldn't let anyone flirt with me, you daft git. Aside from you, of course."
He carded his fingers through Sherlock's curls and the detective leaned on his hand, a small smile gracing his lips.
"Hey, wait a minute." Said John, furrowing his brows. "What does that have to do with spiking the punch?"
"Oh. Well, I thought that if I got everyone relatively drunk, you would know it was me trying to fend off boredom and we would come back home so you could reprimand me for it, therefore avoiding any other 'flirting' situation." He looked at John's stunned expression and added, "It did seem like a good idea at the time."
"You're unbelievable."
"Yes. And you love me for it." He curled an arm around John's waist and leaned forward, brushing his lips against the doctor's ear. "And do you know what I love?" He smirked and sucked on his earlobe playfully. "Seeing you dressed as a pirate. Don't think I don't know you are aware that I was fascinated by them as a child. Apparently, that fascination hasn't worn off."
John hummed and tightened his grip on Sherlock's hair, forcing him to make eye contact.
"What are you going to do about it, then?"
Sherlock's smile turned slightly predatory and before John could react, he grabbed John's thighs, just under his arse, and lifted him up. John instantly locked his legs around Sherlock's waist and hooked his arms around his neck. The detective sat him on the counter and swiftly left John with his trousers open, instantly pulling out his hardening cock and giving it a light squeeze.
"It's always a nice surprise when you forget to wear your pants. Or was it on purpose, I wonder? Maybe you were expecting something tonight." Slowly, Sherlock began to stroke John's cock; leaving a trail of wet kisses on his neck. "You also dressed up as a pirate, knowing that I would found it appealing," He nipped gently at his pulse point, his own cock hardening with the sound of John's pleasured moans. "And even if what you said was true, that woman was flirting with you, John. Believe me, she has no qualms about sleeping with unavailable men." He removed his hand from John's cock, which earned him a frustrated groan, and placed his hands on John's hips.
"It was unnecessary to go through all that to get my attention, John. You always have it." he said, making sure that John's eyes were fixed on his, and a second later he bent over and took John's cock in his mouth.
"Oh, fuck." John closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing. Sherlock had his mouth attached firmly around his erection and was currently teasing him by swirling his tongue around the head. John dropped his head back, unable to stop the whimpers coming out of his mouth and the desperate thrust of his hips, his cock aching for release.
Sherlock was equally desperate. He was enthusiastically bobbing his head up and down, going as far as he could, until John's cock reached the back of his throat. His own cock was completely hard and throbbing with need. He brought his hand down to wrap it around his erection, and started stroking, hard and fast.
It wasn't long before John came with a strangled cry, carding his fingers through Sherlock's curls. Sherlock followed suit almost immediately, kissing the inside of his tights and softly stroking the light bruises forming on John's hips.
When they finally got their breath back, John tilted Sherlock's face up and gave him a wicked smile.
"Told you we would have fun tonight."
A/N: Thanks to whereyoustopthestory for betaing this ~ Of course, any remaining mistakes are entirely mine.
Also, this was my first sex scene, so sorry if it's not very good *hangs head in shame*
Hope you enjoy ~
Lots of love Xx