A/N: Sorry for not updating sooner. Here you are!
Irene was on edge the next day. She and Kate had been waiting hours for Watson to rise. Apparently his bad mood yesterday had made him decide to sleep in a bit.
"I don't know how much more of this I can take," Kate complained as she lounged back on the bed again.
"Patience, my darling, all good things to those who wait," Irene reminded her. "I do remember you enjoying when I made you wait yesterday."
"That was different," Kate said, sighing and closing her eyes momentarily.
Irene had to agree, it was a bit. Still, nothing good would come of rushing things. She looked towards Kate's reclined form and pondered another go, only to be interrupted by noise on the screen.
"Good morning," John was saying as he came down the stairs.
Sherlock didn't respond.
Perfect. Irene smile and reached for her phone. Kate's eyes popped open as well, and she scrambled up to watch the screen, beginning to smile as she realized it was time for Irene's bet to be tested. Would Sherlock finally respond to her? She did sort of doubt it, but there was no telling what strategies the women had. For all she knew, in a few minutes the two men would be a panting mess.
Well, she could hope at least. She leaned back, ready for the show to begin.
Sherlock hadn't slept much last night. Too much to think about, too much to do. Besides, lying in bed wasn't conducive to forgetting that John had been out having sex with his newest girlfriend last night. They'd broken things off, but he was sure the doctor would be finding a replacement girlfriend in the next two weeks. Further proof he would never want Sherlock. It didn't take a master detective to see John just wasn't interested.
He sighed and rolled over on the couch, wondering if he should attempt sleeping, or if work might prove a more substantial distraction.
His decision was cut off when John appeared coming down the stairs from his room.
"Good morning," he said.
Sherlock wondered if he should find a reply but finally thought better of it. He wasn't really in the mood to talk, especially with John.
"You checked to see if we have any cases?" John asked.
Sherlock sighed, steepling his fingers under his chin, wondering how long he could go in silence before John would become upset.
Just as he was about to finally reply, a noise came from his pocket.
A low masculine moan had emanated from his robe. John had spun around in the kitchen to stare at him, eyes wide, mouth dropping.
"Sherlock, what the hell was—"
Sherlock put a finger to his own lips and reached down to grab the phone out of his dressing robe pocket. He pulled out his phone and gazed down at the text.
Good morning, sexy.
He stared at Irene's text, trying to figure out what she'd done to suddenly change her text alert sound. He hadn't let his phone out of his sight once.
He looked back up towards John, the man's brow furrowed, eyes locked on Sherlock.
"Was that your phone?" he asked.
"It appears so," Sherlock said, only for another moan to sound from the phone. This time Sherlock was paying more attention, taking in the deeper voice, clearly a man's orgasm rather than a woman's. He tried to pay attention to the voice behind it. It sounded almost…familiar. He glanced at John, only to see the other man had turned bright red.
Another text appeared on the screen.
Did you sleep well?
"Does that voice sound familiar to you John?"
The other man's blush intensified from the question. Sherlock cocked his head, studying his flatmate for hints.
"Er…sort of…Sherlock it's…"
Yet another moan came from the phone, and this time Sherlock's ears picked up on it. John's voice juxtaposed against the ringtone gave him a complete sample to compare against. He took the o sound John had made and imagined lengthening it, adding a little variance in the pitch…yes…that fit rather well actually.
"It's you?" Sherlock asked, even as he checked the next text.
I slept well since you didn't ask.
Sherlock's eyes narrowed at the words, even as he became aware that John's mouth was moving a bit, though no sounds were coming out.
"How the bloody hell did she get ahold of that sound?" he asked.
"I was about to ask you," Sherlock said, looking up at the wide eyed doctor. "Or have you stopped keeping track of all of the women you sleep with?"
John stared at him momentarily before coming up with a reply. "First off, I don't sleep with that many women. Secondly, I would never go around sleeping with someone like Irene Adler."
Sherlock tried his best to keep his face neutral, even as he considered the possibility of John lying. Would John lie? Was that possible? But how else had Irene Adler gotten ahold of the sound of him moaning.
"What, don't enjoy that sort of thing?" Sherlock asked. "Sure seem to like it when I order you around."
John turned red again, and Sherlock realized that might have taken things a bit too far, especially considering that suggested something sexual when there wasn't anything like that between them. Perhaps he should back off a bit, it was unlikely John had slept with Irene. And besides, the thought bothered him enough he decided he'd prefer to just forget about it.
"I'll just change the sound," Sherlock suggested at long last, deciding this was a better alternative than continuing to grill John. He'd keep an eye on him though. Just in case this was real.
"Fine, yeah," John muttered. "We're out of eggs by the way. I think I'll go and get some."
"Sure," Sherlock said, even as he changed the sound back to a normal text alert.
"By the time I get back, you'd better have picked out a new case," John threatened as he started to head towards the door.
"Alright," Sherlock said, not looking up as he tucked his phone away. Another case, another distraction. It was a good idea. However, he was stopped from making any move to grab John's laptop by yet another moan coming from his pocket.
John spun around. "Thought you said you were changing it?"
"I was," Sherlock muttered. He pulled the phone back out and gazed down at Irene's text.
Not quite that simple. Sorry sexy.
Sherlock frowned and stared at it. So he had been right, she hadn't gotten ahold of his phone. But then, how had she done it? Her cleverness was apparently boundless if she could find a way to change his ringtone without even being near him.
Stumped, he realized his options were limited. He didn't know enough about phones to manage to figure out what she'd done. But he knew enough about Irene Adler to know this was a game for her, and the best thing to do in these circumstances was to stop ignoring her and start playing.
He tapped out a message and hit send.
Am I required to beg in order to have you change it back?- SH
There was a brief pause before another moan filled the room. John sighed and threw his hands in the air.
"Jesus, Sherlock, is there any way you can turn that bloody thing down, or is the whole world going to have to hear me—well can't you silence it or something."
"I'm going to guess she can change that too," Sherlock said. "All things considered, I should probably get a new phone by the time this is done. Though I wouldn't underestimate her enough to think she couldn't get ahold of that too. She's nothing if not persistent."
How about you send me a picture of you leaving a lovebite on your lovely Watson's neck. And a final product shot too.
There was another moan and then.
See if you can produce that same noise?
Sherlock stared at it for a moment. A picture of him…he swallowed at the mere though. Could he do that? Would John let him? Would he make that noise?
"She says she'll change it if I send her a picture of me….um…me…giving you a…um…well…a..."
He passed the phone over and John looked at it, eyes widening again. He cursed under his breath, then handed the phone back over.
"I'm not doing that."
"So we'll be hearing your moans for as long as Irene Adler decides to use them," Sherlock pointed out.
"We'll deal with it," John muttered. He turned back towards the door as though to leave, probably still focused on getting some eggs for breakfast.
"You do realize I have no control of when she texts," Sherlock said. "It could be in front of Mrs. Hudson. It could be in front of Lestrade on a case. It could be with a client."
John froze, standing in the doorway just a moment. Sherlock waited patiently, and sure enough the doctor was soon turning around to shoot him a glare.
"Fine, you're right. Let's bloody well get it over with."
John moved over to the couch, sitting down beside Sherlock and pulling at the neck of his jumper. Sherlock frowned and reached for his phone, turning on the camera before adjusting the angle to fit both of them in.
He leaned in closer to John, admiring the familiar smells of John's aftershave, deodorant, shampoo, but also the muskier scent that was purely his. The smell of John. He breathed it in for just a moment, well aware that John would grow impatient if he took too long. But this was his chance. A moment he could enjoy being close to this man he'd come to feel attracted to…
"Erm, Sherlock," John interrupted. "Can you please just do it?"
"Oh right, sorry," Sherlock said, straightening just a bit.
"You do know how to do this, don't you?" John asked.
"Hmm? Oh, well…" Sherlock broke off. He knew the basic principle, of course. Sucking on the skin most commonly the neck would result in broken blood vessels creating a distinctive bruise. But he had no practical experience with these things.
"Would you…like me to show you?" John asked.
Sherlock felt suddenly very out of breath. He managed a nod, trying his best to school his face, attempting to give John every indication this was merely to stop Irene from bothering them, not for any other purposes.
John leaned in and Sherlock felt lips against his neck. He closed his eyes and merely let the sensations wash over him. It felt undeniably good, John touching him there. He'd never realized the neck could be such a sensual area, but under John's mouth it certainly felt much more important than the part of the body holding up the head. Sherlock did his best to restrain a moan, clenching his teeth even as he prayed that his body wouldn't give much response.
"Sorry," John said, pulling back. "Was that alright?"
"Hmm? Interesting, yes. Um…now you…for the photo."
John sighed and bared his neck again. Sherlock leaned in, lips brushing soft skin on John's collarbone. His tongue peeked between his teeth, tempting him to taste the offered flesh, but he knew that would be going too far. Instead, he leaned in and placed his lips on the spot offered. He pressed the phone into John's hands, realizing John might have a better angle for the whole thing. A soft noise escaped the doctor's mouth, but thankfully there was a snap from his phone, and he knew the picture was over.
Sherlock relaxed and withdrew, even though every fiber of his being was screaming at him to move back in, kiss along that beautiful neck, up to John's jaw, move til their lips were connected and then just—
"Alright, need one of my neck too, right?"
The detective tried to pull himself out of his fantasies, but it was difficult. He grabbed the phone John was offering, and quickly snapped a picture of the reddened mark. It hadn't really bruised yet, but he suspected it would within an hour.
He sent both of the photos off to Irene's number, waiting a long moment before a reply came with a breathy female sigh. Well, that wasn't much of an improvement, but at least now it wouldn't be John moaning through his phone.
Thank you. I'm hungry. Let's have dinner.
Sherlock rolled his eyes and stuck his phone back in his pocket. He turned back to John who was still staring at his neck.
Another beep had them both jumping. Sherlock pulled his phone out yet again, noting this time it wasn't from Irene. Thank heavens, he was growing tired of her games.
Crime scene at Bletchley and Wenlock. Confusing. Meet there?-GL
"Lestrade, crime scene. Want to go?" Sherlock asked, looking up to meet John's eyes yet again.
"We might both want to…er…make sure to cover up before going to the crime scene," John said.
Sherlock tried and failed to look at his own neck. He shrugged. "A scarf will do."
"Right. I'll grab a turtleneck jumper instead. Just don't want Lestrade suddenly asking questions."
"Well, you have a girlfriend, it wouldn't be unnatural for you to have a hematoma on your neck of the sexual variety."
"Had a girlfriend," John said with a scowl. "And these are still embarrassing to explain even with a significant other in the picture. I mean, normally you don't do these on purpose, you know. They just sort of happen in the heat of the moment."
Sherlock shrugged, what would he know about such things. Yet another reason John would never want him. His inexperience. His awkwardness in sex, in relationships, in knowing how something as simple as a love bite functioned. He let out a long sigh before rising to walk towards his bedroom. John was right, best to cover these marks up, pretend they'd never happened. Hope no one would ever have to find out about their awkward little encounter.
John's shame was reasonable, and Sherlock was at least willing to comply in keeping all of this quiet. For the sake of his troubled heart still trying to determine what had happened just now, why he was walking away from the man he clearly cared for, both physically and emotionally. The man who had just been through girlfriends and would likely have another by the end of the week. He sighed, readied himself to wrap a scarf over the mark, only hoping later to examine it in the mirror, have a little reminder of the one instance he'd held John's attention…probably the only one he'd ever have.
"I don't know how I thought you'd be wrong," Kate said with a sigh. "You're never wrong."
"Of course I'm not," Irene said with a smile. "So I'll be expecting a repeat of Rome in the next few days."
Kate sighed and shrugged. "I suppose it won't be all that hard. How did you change his phone anyhow?"
"I had a good few hours before I took it back," Irene pointed out. "I dropped it by that IT chap's place. The computer whiz…whatever you want to call him. He's brilliant, though nowhere near Sherlock's level. Merely gifted with technology."
"Oh yes, the one who wanted to be put in that atrocious outfit and hogtied and flogged?" Kate asked, smiling at the memory of Irene's videos.
"Yes, that's the one. He fixed it up for me. It was perfect. I knew those little features he gave me would come in handy."
"And John's moans? I know you didn't sleep with him, even if Sherlock had a hissy fit in his jealousy."
"Oh darling, you forget I know his ex. Cindi…you know that accountant I played with last fall?"
"Ohhhh," Kate said with a laugh. "Yes I had forgotten her. So you had her record him when he came for sex? Very clever, mistress. So, what's next? Some pictures of love bites can't be all you're planning."
Irene looked towards her assistant and lover, red lips twitching up into a playful smile.
"Of course not, darling. I have great plans for these two. Wondrous plans. Now, why don't I tell you a few while you do that thing you did in Rome."
Kate smiled and got down on her knees on the floor. "Anything for you, mistress."
"Good girl," Irene said with a heady sigh. She closed her eyes momentarily, readying herself with those clearly laid out plans. A few surprised would be good for Kate, but she'd give some of the major details. There were so many delicious options. So many endless possibilities.
A/N: Well, hope that will tide you over for a bit. More within the week, I promise! Thanks to ChuYumeAkirameru, Tanja88, JessMill, and The Archfiend for reviewing.
Feedback, if you have any, is always great. I don't have a lot set in stone as of yet, so suggestions are also welcome if you have any fun ideas.