Disclaimer: Nope, still isn't mine! If it were, it would not be a 12 movie. *fan girl drool* :3. Anyway, read on!

Watson's P.O.V

Returning to 221B Baker Street after my dinner with Mary, I wasn't too surprised that Holmes was absent. He usually was, but he'd be back sooner or later.

Sitting down in my favourite armchair, I pulled out the book from my pocket and flicked to the page I was on.

I couldn't help but take it when it contained such things about my colleague, my friend, almost my…

I shook my head of such thoughts and settled down.

I walked into the room [it read] and saw him standing at the window, thinking as usual, the moonlight casting a pale spotlight on his naked torso.

His back glistened with sweat from his recent match. I approached him and put my hands on his shoulders, massaging his tense muscles.

He turned round, grabbing my hands, lowering his head closer and closer to mine. Then suddenly, finally, he…

I heard the front door slam open and the sounds of harsh winds and pelting rain greeted my startled ears. I had left the apartment door open in my haste to sit as my leg had started to trouble me.

Holmes had arrived and was coming up the stairs rather quickly. I scrambled to hide the book and only just succeeded in placing it back in my jacket pocket as he came through the door.

'Good evening, Holmes. I gather you know who stole the necklace?' I asked him, referring to his current case.

'Ah, yes. It was the daughter. She borrowed it for a luncheon with a young man but lost it on the way home and simply didn't have the heart to tell her mother whose prized possession it was,'

I nodded amiably and watched him walk over and sit beside me on the floor.

'It's all cleared up of course. Now, the important matter is, Watson- Why did you ever think you could hide something from me?'

I looked at him in muted disbelief and he smirked at my dumbfounded expression.

'You really thought I wouldn't notice, old boy? I saw you panic as I walked in and put something in your pocket. Ah, judging by the size of that obvious bulge in your jacket pocket I'd say it is a book of some sort, leather bound. Hmm…'

He inspected it from afar, finger on his lips and hand on his chin.

'But if you're hiding it from me it has to be something to do with me otherwise you would, in fact, tell me.'

'Would I?'

'Of course.'

'On what grounds do you say that?'

'Oh, everyone knows apart from you, Watson, which grounds I say that on- a fairly extraordinary feat considering, but I digress. You did not have it before you went to dinner, so it must be a fairly recent acquirement. How did that go by the way?'

'Well enough, thanks to your absence.' I shot him a pointed look, 'but it is safe enough to say that there is one more person in London who has motive to kill you. That makes up everybody except for Gladstone and only because he is unconscious. Well done my dear fellow.'

'Even you? You really have motive to kill me?'

'Especially me, Holmes.' I smirked at our banter.

'I very much doubt that, if you did you would have done it already!'

'Gladstone…'

'Doesn't mind,'

'Violin…'

'I always play your favourites afterwards,'

'My clothes…'

'How many times Watson? We have a Barter System!'

I stood up, shaking my head. 'I'm tired Holmes, I'm off to bed,'

'Goodnight.'

I walked to my bedroom, got undressed and settled into bed where I picked up the leather bound book and flicked to the next chapter.

Scanning the opening sentence I was surprised to read my name, yet even more shocked when I discovered what I had missed by not reading the title: Watson dominates Holmes.

I knew I should skip the chapter but I was too intrigued. I had to read it else fall prey to my twisted thoughts for god knows how long, though I feared it would cause unnecessary embarrassment working with the man himself the next day.

I took a deep breath, pulled the bed covers close to my bare chest and started to read.

/.\./.\./.\./.\./.\./.\

John Watson was a fantastic doctor, this Holmes knew. But what he had only begun to discover was how fantastic a man he was.

With broad shoulders and strong, visible muscles, (not that Holmes had been looking… though whenever Watson bent over, he could hardly contain himself) John was easily the most attractive man he knew.

That was why he was feeling very uncomfortable in the situation he found himself in.

Sherlock Holmes was currently held against a wall, his wrists pinned above his head and an incredibly gorgeous man becoming exceedingly close.

What was worse was how inevitable Holmes' fate was. He was a masochist at heart though Watson was practically screaming in his face about how 'this was the last straw!' and 'you really are impossible, Holmes!'

Said detective was rather turned on at being held against his will. In fact his mind had become a fog of irrepressible desire, so much so that he could no longer encourage himself to escape Watson's strong grip.

So all he could do was look into his striking blue eyes and try to make out what he was saying at present, which was something along the lines of, 'What's that digging into my thigh, Holmes?'

There was an awkward silence in which Sherlock mentally cursed as he realised whilst the doctor's sweet, warm breath was tickling his face and his sparkling gaze was concentrated on his own- Holmes had become somewhat aroused.

Looking down, his worst fears were confirmed by an obvious bulge sticking out of his now too tight suit that really was digging into Watson's thigh.

/.\./.\./.\./.\./.\./.\

I gulped as I remembered Holmes saying the words 'obvious bulge' to me earlier and came to my own dreaded comprehension that this fictitious detective wasn't the only one with an uncomfortable hard on.

I subtly slipped my hand inside my boxers, the only piece of clothing I had on, and began to touch. I continued to read.

/.\./.\./.\./.\./.\./.\

He tried to stammer a response but John's devilishly sly smile was preventing him from breathing, let alone talking.

'Is this what I do to you, eh Holmes?' He asked in a low growl that sent a throbbing chill to his deprived manhood. It only intensified when Watson leaned even closer to his face and crashed his soft lips to Holmes' in a rough, passionate kiss.

His tongue entered the other's mouth and the detective was shocked at the groan of pleasure emitting from his throat.

A battle of dominance ensued in that kiss but it was clear who was in control as the doctor broke off the kiss suddenly and keeping a firm grip on Holmes' wrists, twisted him around causing him to flinch with slight pain.

John guided him towards the bedroom, slammed open the door and shoved him onto the bed.

Ripping Sherlock's clothes off, John did not allow himself to be undressed.

It was only when Holmes was entirely naked, his hard shaft pressed to his taut, well-defined abdomen, did Watson remove his tie.

Holmes looked up at him eagerly, hungrily, but was surprised when the other man simply grabbed his wrists again.

He was even more shocked when he found them being tied together and then being pulled up and tied to the bed post.

John Watson surveyed his prize. Sherlock Holmes was now entirely helpless, awaiting his fate.

/.\./.\./.\./.\./.\./.\

My touching had become full on motion. It was unbelievable how the combination of words and my own imagination had made me this aroused.

The thought of Holmes like that should surely make me feel awkward, if not a little sick, but instead…

Now my boxers were too restricting, my bed covers too hot. Pulling them down I continued to rub my own hard cock and was about to find out my fictional counterpart was going to do to Holmes when the door burst open.

I stared in disbelief at the now very red man who had no idea that it was over him that I was in this mess.

'You really should lock your door before you take part in such an act. Sorry old boy, I nearly forgot to tell you that Mrs Hudson asked me to pass on a message from Mary's sister who called round earlier for you.'

Embarrassed but too shocked to do anything about my situation I replied.

'Which is?'

'Kindly give back what you… borrowed… at the soonest possible opportunity.'

'Why do you say borrowed in such a tone?'

'Such a look of guilt passed across your face that I naturally assumed it was under no circumstance borrowed. However, this does mean I know who wrote the book that I see is in your hand. What does it contain Watson, which has got you so excited?'

'It contains nothing. Absolutely nothing.'

'I will find out you know. You can't stay awake for ever.'

My head started to loll but I refused to fall asleep in such a situation as I was now; I was holding a book entitled 'The adventures of Sherlock Holmes,' in one hand and my still erect cock in my other hand.

'Are you quite finished, Holmes?' I yawned.

'Yes my dear fellow. However, it seems that you are not,' he said with a smirk.

He said something else but my hearing went quite fuzzy and my eyelids drooped. Shaking my head clear of the drowsiness I opened my eyes.

'Sorry Holmes, I didn't quite catch that.' He looked up at me and grinned wolfishly.

'I said would you like me to help you with that?' He gestured to my lower regions. Before I could say anything he strode across the room, leapt onto the bed and pinned my legs down.

I watched him in almost dazed anticipation as he ducked his lower and lower until…

'Holmes I… oh god!' Keeping his seductive brown eyes on me he started teasing my cock with his tongue, from the bottom to the very tip where he engulfed my manhood enticing sweet moans from my open, panting mouth.

This went on for… I don't even know how long; I lost track of the time.

All I remember was how good his tongue felt and how right it was to scream his name as I came in his mouth, and he was sure to catch every last drop.

As I lay there exhausted whilst my breathing returned to normal, something in my mind shifted.

There was no longer a presence on top of my legs or the brisk night air on my bare body. In fact, all I could feel were my soft bedcovers.

Opening my eyes and thinking back, I groaned. The fuzzy happenings of last night were unquestionably a dream. I wondered with horror if I had spoken aloud. Then something clicked.

I was no longer holding the book.

Oh goodness… does this mean Holmes has it? What will this mean for Miss Jessica? *gasp* Find out in chapter three! Also, reviews make my world go round :D (Like seriously, please review. Even if it's monosyllabic. Even if it's to find out what monosyllabic means. XD