Tickle
A/N- well this isn't the sequel to Alleyway but I'm still considering posting one.
Warning: mild sexual themes even though this was supposed to be innocent.
"Sherlock."
...
"Sherlock?"
...
John was receiving no reply from the detective in front of him. He was staring off into space, and normally, John would've left him alone- but they weren't on a case and usually Sherlock was sulking about it. But now his mind seemed to be in overdrive.
John carefully nudged his side, and Sherlock jumped nearly ten feet in the air and cried out before glaring at John, rather alarmed. "What?!" John attempted to hold back his laughter, but then burst into a fit of giggles. "You're ticklish!"
Sherlock's cheeks glowed a bright pink. "Am not! You just caught me off guard is all!"
"Oh. Okay." John said innocently, too casual about it.
And then Sherlock was being attacked by John, tickling him in his weakest points. They fell onto floor in a heap of laughter. Sherlock tried to pry John off of him as he yelled orders at him to stop- but he didn't seem very threatening through his hysterics.
John caught Sherlock's wrist and slammed them back, pinning them behind his head. Sherlock glared up at the blogger, breathing heavily but thankful for the break. Then he realized how questionable their position was. John straddled his hips, and had his hands pinned above his head. They were both flushed and panting.
As heat swam in his lower abdomen as well as his cheeks, he struggled to pull his wrists out if John's vice-like grip. He knew it was no use- he was stronger than Sherlock. A lot stronger. "John..." he groaned, making one last attempt- he arched his back in trial- and error- and then instantly regretted doing so as both of their groins met. Sherlock slammed his body back down.
No. Think about Anderson. God. That ugly face and his stupidity. Think about how he'll never amount to anything and how much better you are than him.
John didn't know why he was still on Sherlock.
All he knew was that his face and his lower half were on fire. He stifled a moan when Sherlock attempted to move, and then he lost control.
Sherlock gaped at John. So much for thinking of Anderson.
With sudden new found strength- or maybe John had slackened on his grip- Sherlock raised up and slammed John back to the floor, kissing him deeply. John responded after a moment of shock and wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him down completely on top.
After a few minutes of heated kissing, Sherlock pulled away, still hovering over John. "If you ever tickle me again, I'm going to kill you." John smiled mischievously and then gently poked at one of Sherlock's sides. He jumped, and then sent him an annoyed glare. John chuckled. "C'mon, Sherlock," he mumbled, pulling him closer, "It's cute." And they kissed again, Sherlock secretly not minding the tickling much- it meant John was flirting.
And he liked that a lot.