Disclaimer: I do not own BBC Sherlock. If I did, Johnlock and Mystrade would be cannon. I just enjoy borrowing the characters to put in... compromising situations. I don't get any profit from this other than the amazing feeling of fangirl evil.
Warning: SMUT in the second chapter. M/M SMUT to be exact. Don't like, don't read. Also, if you leave a review, be constructive. I have only posted one other fic as of date.
Chapter 1: The Game
Sherlock was bored. There hadn't been a case for days, though that may have been because the Baker Street boys had managed to piss of Lestrade. It's a long story. (a/n: Actually, I don't feel like thinking of something at the moment. If something comes to me, I might make it another story.) now the DI wasn't giving Sherlock cases for a week.
John was excited. He knew about Sherlock's boredom as he entered the flat, but John had an idea. "Bored!" The detective's yell could easily be heard as John dragged his package up the 17 steps to the living room.
John left the box at the top of the stairs out of sight and entered the room with the detective. Sherlock looked confused. "You brought something home," he stated, already deducing his flatmate. "It was obviously large, but not heavy. You left it where I can't see it, so it's obviously for me. It may be something entertaining, from the look of excitement on your face. Therefore, something you have used before and want to introduce me to. Possibly a game you grew up with and, obvious from your posture, consider yourself good at. However, I cannot think what it exactly is."
John laughed and admitted, "Yeah, it's a game. I knew you would be bored, so I figured I could distract you with Ping-Pong." Sherlock's resulting look clearly said, 'You really think Ping-Pong can distract and entertain a mind like mine?' John laughed again and said, "I figured you might see it that way, so I figured out a way to make it incredibly interesting. Let's make it strip Ping-Pong. The loser is the first one to lose all their clothes, and they have to submit to what the other wants for the night."
Of course Sherlock was excited by that and soon the floor was cleared and the men sat down to try to assemble the table, without reading the instructions. It took them a while, but the table was successfully set up in their living room.
Before they played, the inhabitants of 221B decided to level the playing field by wearing the same amount of clothing. This meant Sherlock had to get dressed, including shoes and suit jacket. Upon his return, the game started.
It did not take long for John and Sherlock to realize they were pretty evenly matched in skill. It was chance that Sherlock scored the first point, causing John to remove his jumper. John scored the next point and Sherlock threw his jacket over the back of the nearby couch. The game progressed in this manner for most of the afternoon. They scored points in turns and Sherlock always mirrored John by taking off what had minutes before been removed from his boyfriend's body. Eventually, both had removed their trousers and were playing in nothing but their pants. The pants did nothing to hide growing erections and both men played a bit harder for the win. In the end though, the pattern remained and Sherlock scored the last point. He watched, smirking, as John removed his pants, freeing his raging hard on, and sauntered toward Sherlock's room. The detective trailed after him, already tossing his own pants across the room.
Don't flame me, please. And if you don't want to read smut, don't read the next chapter.