'What are you up to now?' John says and gives him a tired look 'I don't think I'm up for another round.'

'Oh come on, John! I was just getting fired up!' Sherlock exclaims and puts on his puppy face.

'You can't fool me with your cuteness, Sherlock.' John says and pushes him away.

'You never called me cute before.' Sherlock smiles like a happy puppy wagging its tail.

'I guess... Anyway.' John puts on a towel. 'I'm not in the mood anymore. I'm getting dressed.'

John can hear his partner sigh behind him like a little boy who didn't get what he wanted for christmas.

John walks into the bedroom and puts on his clothes. He can hear Sherlock rattling with the pots and pans in the kitchen. After a few moments of cursing the sounds suddenly stops. Like the doctor that he is he immediately runs into the kitchen to check that Sherlock didn't hurt himself. He finds him standing in the corner facing the wall.

'Mrs. Hudson misplaced the frying pan again. How am I supposed to take your advice and eat more when I can't even fry an egg?' Sherlock says in a calm, almost menacing voice.

John looks over at the dishes in the sink and sees the pan.

'There it is. You just forgot to do the dishes yesterday.' He points at the sink.

Sherlock turns around and stares at the pan for a moment before walking up to it. He gives it a look of death and then throws it to the floor. The loud banging noise startles John so much that he takes a step back.

'Um... Sherlock..?' He says in a soft voice, careful not to anger him further.

Sherlock doesn't say anything. John takes this as a warning that he is about to blow and scurries to the hallway. Right when he leaves the room there is another bang. And another. He turns around and looks back into the kitchen and sees sherlock bent over the pan. He's holding his harpoon and hitting the pan with the pointy end.

'Nothing is immortal...' Sherlock whispers menacingly and smiles wickedly as he continues to let out his anger on the poor pan on the floor.

'What in the world has that pan ever done to you?'

John steps into the kitchen.

'Don't come any closer, John. I'm not stable right now, I think.'

John walks up behind him and puts his arms around his waist, forcing him to stand up. He puts his face against his back and whispers softly to his partner.

'Stop this.'

Sherlock lets the harpoon fall to the floor and puts his hands on John's.

'I'm sorry if I scared you...' Sherlock says softly with a tone of regret in his voice.

'It's fine. In fact the whole scene with you beating the crap out of that poor pan was a bit amusing.'

John chuckles slightly as the memory comes back to life.

'The last time I saw that damned harpoon you had just come home covered with blood. It brings bad luck.'

'No it doesn't. It's me who's bringing the harpoon bad luck. I just bent the tip of it to the brink of uselessness. Maybe it could still be used as some sort of cane. I don't know.'

'Good. Get rid of it.'

'I shall, fair lady. Your word is my command.'

'Eh... Excuse me!?' John exclaims and lets go of Sherlock to slap him across the back of his head.

'Ow! That hurt!'

'If you call me a fair lady again a little headache will be the least of your problems.'

'Sorry! Please. I surrender.'

Sherlock raises his hands in front of John in a gesture of surrender.

'I'm not that mad. I just don't like to be compared to a woman when I'm clearly not.'

'Clearly...' Sherlock puts his hands down and smiles at John. 'You're quite cute when you're mad.'

John blushes and turns away.

'I-I'm leaving now. Bye.'

Sherlock grabs his arm and forces him to fall back into his arms. He presses a passionate kiss on John's lips then lets him go without a second to adjust to the situation. This was his way of punishing John and his partner knew that. It was obvious that Sherlock was trying to make John stay. Unfortunately for him it had never worked so far. John was way to stubborn to succumb to his own desires in this type of situation. If he has already said no, no is set in stone. Sherlock has always tried to respect his partner's wishes. Still, Sherlock wanted to have a little fun with him sometimes. Testing his limits and making him uncomfortable. This was one o those times. All he wanted out of the kiss was to make John flush and scurry away as usual. But today was different.

'John?'

'I know how your brain works. I changed my mind.'

'Huh?'

'I'm not leaving because I know that's when you win. I'm sick of these things you do, thinking you're so smart.'

John turns t face Sherlock and puts his hands behind his neck. Sherlock opens his mouth to say something.

'Shut up. This is my moment. I win.'

John kisses his partner as passionately as he himself had been kissed a few moments ago. He swirls his tongue around Sherlock's. His fingers reach up and find the soft curls on his head. His breathing becomes deepened. Sherlock puts his arms around John's waist and lifts him up against his chest. John breaks the kiss and stares at Sherlock with an angry look in his eyes.

'What? I don't think this way of carrying is too feminine for you. I just want to be a bit romantic. This is what romantic people do, right? I saw it in a movie once.'

John gives up on protesting and Sherlock carries him to his armchair.

'I thought we were going to the bedroom.' John says as Sherlock sets him down in the chair.

'I thought this would be more interesting.'

'But why my armchair?'

'You're the one sitting down, after all. This is yours. There is no reason for you to sit in mine.'

'But... Why am I sitting?'

'This is why.'

Sherlock pulls down the zipper on John's pants and pulls them down slightly. Then he pulls down John's boxers and takes his member in his hands. He starts tugging up and down John's growing erection. Sherlock's fingers play along the base and on the back of the tip where he is most sensitive. John lets out a pleased sigh and leans his head back. Sherlock takes this as an invitation to move faster. Some pre-cum seeps down on Sherlock's warm hands, lubricating them. He knows that John is about to orgasm and swiftly puts his lips around the glans. He sucks hard and continues to rub his partner until he feels him quiver underneath him. The warm semen sprays the back of his mouth and he accidentally swallows some of it in an attempt not to cough. He takes John's instrument out of his mouth and stands up. The semen tastes bitter and Sherlock is reluctant to swallow it. He walks over to the kitchen sink and spits it out. John has hardly moved since the climax. Sherlock walks back into the living room and wipes his mouth on a handkerchief. His gaze meets John's.

'I'm sorry about that.' John says and points at Sherlock's mouth.

'It's... fine. It's all on me. It was my idea.'

'Yes. It was.'

'It's quite bitter though. Maybe you should consider changing your diet to something more healthy. I heard somewhere before that pineapple supposedly makes it taste better. You could try that.'

'Are you serious? That's what's going through your mind right now? You just sucked me off.'

'Yes I did. That' one more sexual experience I can cross off my list.'

'Your list? You have an entire list!?'

'Of course. Have you forgotten who I am?'

'I wish I could. What else is on that list?'

'Oh wouldn't you like to know...' Sherlock chuckles and gives John a soft kiss. 'I'm sure you'll find out soon enough.'

(This one is a gift to all my followers. Hope you enjoyed it!)