He was pressing the thin white wrists into deep crimson velvet. His eyes travelled down the muscular arms to a rather built chest for a teen. He looked up and stared into glittering eyes, half-lidded in lust. He kissed those full, tantalizing lips. He ravished them, claimed them as his own. They parted in a moan and his tongue entered and lazily lapped at the others tongue, which shyly replied.

He freed one hand and had both wrists in the other; with this free hand he trailed down the long body until it rested at the hair nestling and protecting it's jewels.

He panted into the kiss in excitement as his hand closed around the throbbing erection of the teen. He pulled back and stared at the long, angled face, the fierce eyes and the white teeth pressing into the full bottom lip in desire as he slowly pumped the others shaft.

He made his way down the body and lowered his head, his ears ringing with the deep, enthralling moan that escaped the teen. He slowly worked the others erection...

John sat up, panting for breath. He ran a hand over his face and quickly lifted the sheet. Oh god, his dick was hard, aching and purple. He placed a hand on it, moaning lightly at the pleasure it brought. He got up and went to the bathroom to relieve himself, and while struggling to maintain an accurate aim, he contemplated the dream.

He had spent the majority of the night with the teen, just walking aimlessly down streets, talking and just getting along. Friendship. They had become friends. His lonely mind was just taking that new found affection and turning his mind weird. He wasn't attracted to- Oh, who was he kidding. He was bloody attracted to that boy.

He bit his lip as he accepted the truth and let his hand work their magic on his lonely, aching need.

–

He settled into his desk at work, pulling out the files of his clients that day and flipping through them to put them in the proper order of appointments. He pushed them to the side and glanced at the clock. He still had about a half hour before his first client should show up so he opened up his computers browser and began surfing the net aimlessly. It wasn't very professional, but if he didn't occupy his mind it would continue to linger on his dream.

"Dr. Watson, your nine o'clock is here."

He jolted and glanced at the time. It was indeed eight fifty-seven. He closed his browser, made sure his desk and himself were presentable before he made his way to the door. He ushered in his client and made his way to his desk, asking his usual questions.

The other was in a deep ramble about how horrible her life was when he felt his phone vibrate. The woman kept going on and on and was looking off to the side so he quickly pulled his phone out. Nobody ever texts him, or call him for that matter, when they knew he was working.

I'm bored. Entertain me. -SH

John stared at the text from an unknown number. SH? He contemplated the initials, ignoring the woman who was still rambling and it hit him. Sherlock Holmes.

How did you get this number?

John stared at the screen perplexed, keeping it in his hand as he tuned back into the woman's rambling, which was something having to do with being sure her neighbour was stealing her dogs food and giving it to aliens. The phone vibrated.

Must I explain it? -SH

John knitted his brows together as he thought over the night before. It hit him. He had asked to borrow his phone. He tilted his head back and groaned silently. The bugger had messaged himself didn't he. He went into his 'sent' messages and found one to the unknown number that was now known as Sherlock's. He shook his head and saved it to his memory as 'obnoxious git' before sending a text back.

When you borrowed my phone, eh? Shouldn't you be in school?

"Are you listening to me?"

John quickly looked up, snatching a notebook that was in the shelf above his legs and a pen for such instances. He lifted them, "I am listening. Just keeping track of what you say."

He smiled at her tersely, "Please, continue."

He didn't have to say it twice, she began on another long train of rants and conspiracies. He glanced at the clock. Ten minutes left of this, thank God. His phone vibrated again. He looked to see that she was preoccupied with a sheet of paper in her lap and pulled his phone out again and checked the message.

School is a waste of my intellect. What are you doing?

Listening to someone complain I bet. - SH

John held back a chuckle as he replied,

Well, that's my job. I'm actually technically violating

protocol by talking to a client outside of appointments while

during someone else's. But I doubt you'd tell, now would you?

He pocketed his phone again and pretended to write stuff down as he felt her eyes slide to him and then to his hands.

"Do you want to go out for coffee?"

John nearly choked as he glanced up at the woman who was trying to look at him in a flirtatious manner. He coughed, looked away nervously before quickly glancing at her.

"I apologize but that is against protocol. Please, our appointment is over and it is time for you to leave. See you next week."

The woman glowered at him before stomping out of the room. He leaned back in his chair and placed his hands to his face. This was more normal than you'd think, but there was only one client he even associated with outside of work... and he was attracted to him.

"This is not good for my reputation." He muttered, pulling his phone out as it vibrated once more.

How about dinner tonight. On me. When do you finish work? -SH

John stared at the phone blankly before a smirk curved his lips.

Asking me on a date? Should I feel flattered? I finish at five.

He pocketed his phone, assuming that would be the last of the messages but was surprised at the immediate vibration.

Yes. See you at five in the lobby. -SH

John gaped at his phone, but felt a thrill shoot through him. Sherlock was unpredictable. He was graceful, sexy and rough. He was falling hard.

Winterimperfect wrote the chapter, i hope you enjoy.