Chapter 22
Once home, John helped Sherlock out of his coat, put on the kettle and found the cards. "Have you played it before?" he asked.
"Once," Sherlock replied. "For a case. But the whole place erupted into chaos before we could finish the fifth hand, and I never got to collect my winnings." He smiled at the memory. Then he picked up the cards and started shuffling them.
John smirked as he watched the quick movements of Sherlock's long fingers. Of course he'd make a show of shuffling the cards, even with one arm in a plaster cast.
"Texas Hold'em?" Sherlock asked, casually.
John nodded. "Shame you can't undress yourself though, it would make the stake a little more interesting," he grinned.
Sherlock frowned.
John stared at him. "You don't know strip poker?"
Sherlock blushed and tried to look superior. "Apparently not," he said.
"It's hardly difficult to understand the rules," John said with a very Sherlocky, haughty air.
Sherlock glared at him. "By all means," he said, matching John's tone. "Enlighten me."
John smirked. "You lose a hand, you lose an article of clothing, obviously."
Sherlock's blush deepened. "Oh," he said. Then his expression changed into a teasing smile. "A little pointless, isn't it?"
John shrugged. "Can be quite amusing though. I can always help you with undressing?"
"But we wouldn't need cards for that, would we? I'm quite certain I could find other, more efficient ways of convincing you to undress..." Sherlock stopped himself.
"We could always change games of course," John said, pulling up his eyebrows questioningly.
"What did you have in mind?"
"You just test your ways of convincing me to get off my clothes, and if you win, you can do to me what you like."
Sherlock was, for once, genuinely surprised at this suggestion. And more than a little intrigued. But he also feared that in order to win this, he might have to reveal his new favourite game with John. The prospect was just too enticing to pass up though. "How could I say no to that?"
John smirked and leaned back in his chair. Knowing that it was a game, he was quite confident that he would be able to resist Sherlock for some time, and even if he didn't, it wouldn't really be losing. "Let the game begin."
"Any rules you want to lay down first?" Sherlock asked, looking at him from head to toe, as if already seeing the inevitable result before him.
John thought for a moment and shrugged. "Can't really think of anything... I could say that you can't start ripping my clothes off just like that, but that would never be your style, so..."
"Can't do much ripping anyway," Sherlock said, glancing at the cast. Then he got up and went over to stand in front of John. "Anything else is fair game?"
"Hmm. Perhaps no touching at all in round one," John said thoughtfully. "Rounds of five minutes each, I'd suggest. Anything you want to add? I suppose I can't walk away, that wouldn't be fair either. But can I comment on what you say, for example, or do I just sit here and undergo your attempts?"
"Oh, you can do whatever you want. Only, if you want a time restriction on the rounds, I need to know how many rounds I get." Sherlock knew he might be cheating a little already, but he just couldn't help letting his eyes run all over John's body in anticipation.
John shrugged. "As many as you need. We both know that you will win at one point; the question will be how long it will take you. I'd be surprised if we sit here all day."
"So would I." Sherlock smiled and cocked his head. "Could you stand up?"
John frowned but obeyed. "That means your time starts now. No touching in first round," he repeated.
"Of course," Sherlock smiled. "Step away from the chair please."
"Sure." John wondered where this was going.
Slowly Sherlock walked to stand behind John, close but not touching. As he spoke, he made sure to angle his head, so John would feel his breath on his neck. "I just want to look at you," he whispered.
"Have fun," John said, calmly standing still - perhaps a little calmer than he actually felt, exciting as the idea of their game was.
"Oh, believe me, I will," Sherlock said with a smirk and then let out a breath almost like a sigh. Then he took a step so he was standing beside John, still facing him. He leaned in close, and whispered directly in his ear. "You are beautiful."
"Thank you," John answered, meeting Sherlock's gaze, almost challenging.
Sherlock looked him in the eyes. "I can never get enough of looking at you." He smiled and then moved on to stand in front of John.
"Yes, you can. You'll get bored within minutes, just watching."
"Maybe, but since it's all I can do right now, how about giving me a little more to look at?" Sherlock winked and laughed.
John snorted. "That would be pathetic, if it were that easy."
"I'm not asking you to strip John, just give me something. Anything." Sherlock brought out the puppy eyes, trying very hard not to laugh, since he quite agreed with John's assessment of the attempt.
"No," John said firmly, also trying to hold back his laughter at the whole situation.
Sherlock smiled. "Well, I guess I'll just have to imagine it then." He let his eyes slide slowly down John's body, raising an appreciative eyebrow. "Hmm," he said teasingly. "Might even be better than the real thing."
"Is that an insult?" John asked with a playful frown.
"Well, I do have to rely on memory here, and seeing as I'm quite besotted, my mind may be playing tricks on me."
John smirked. "Yeah, because of course your memory is awful."
"It has been known to fail me."
"Why don't you describe what you're imagining then?" John asked, amused.
Sherlock smiled. "Soft skin, strong chest, cute little stomach," he paused. "Am I close?"
"Cute little stomach?" John repeated, bursting out in laughter. "Really Sherlock, this isn't going to work. Perhaps I should put on an extra jumper."
Sherlock laughed as well. "Oh, but it is cute, John. Sorry I called it little. Didn't mean to offend you."
"Cute isn't going to get you there either. Round one is being a bit of a failure, to be honest!"
Sherlock laughed. "Wouldn't want it to be over too quickly now, would we?"
"No, certainly not, I'm enjoying myself," John grinned.
"Believe it or not: so am I. And after all," he said, keeping a very straight face, "it is kind of nice to see you keep your clothes on for a change."
John chuckled. "I'll do that more often, then?"
"If you can."
"We can even have sex while I'm dressed, if you like that. But not in this game."
"Interesting." Sherlock's eyebrow shot upwards. "I'll keep that one in mind."
John smiled. "Round 2," he announced.
Sherlock sighed in relief. "What are the rules for this one?"
"Make it interesting," John shrugged. "Same as last one, but you're allowed small touches, perhaps?"
"Small?" Sherlock whined, but his eyes were sparkling.
"Yeah," John said smugly.
"Do kisses count as small?" Sherlock said hopefully.
"If they're small kisses."
"Thank you," Sherlock cried, rushing forward and placing a series of small quick kisses on John's lips, cheeks, forehead and nose.
John giggled and quietly let Sherlock attack him.
Finally the detective stopped and let out a long shuddering sigh. "Okay, now that I've got that out of my system, let's get to work, shall we?"
John looked at him with a smile. "I'm intrigued. Shouldn't you sit, though? To save your energy a bit?" Even now he couldn't switch off his doctor mode completely.
"Quite right." Sherlock retreated and sat down in a chair facing John. "But then I'll need you to come a little closer."
John got himself a chair and sat down in front of him, their knees almost touching.
Sherlock reached out a hand and rested it on John's knee lightly. "Is this okay?" he asked.
"Yes, of course. A hand isn't suddenly going to make my trousers vaporize into nothing."
"I hope not," Sherlock said and started sliding his fingertips back and forth over the fabric.
"Would be funny though," John grinned. The caress was nice, but nothing that would make him too aroused.
"I don't know, I'm quite liking this texture," Sherlock said, seeming a little distracted by the sensation.
"That's good," John smiled, sitting back a bit more comfortably.
"Very," Sherlock agreed, but then tore himself loose. "Another thing to save for later, I'm afraid." He leaned back and looked at John for a moment. Then he reached up and opened the top button of his own shirt.
"Ah, things are getting more interesting for me."
Sherlock just smiled and then reached out for John's hand.
"Or not," John smiled, tickling Sherlock's hand a little with his fingertips.
Sherlock turned John's hand in his, so he could trace small circles in his palm. He watched their hands with a small smile.
"You're not very aggressive," John remarked.
"I'm not exactly in a hurry," Sherlock said, raising an eyebrow. "Are you?"
"No, not at all. I'm just surprised, I know your patience."
"I'm only impatient when I'm bored."
John smiled. "That's far more flattering than talking about cute little stomachs, I must say."
"Oh, but I still think it is, and at some point tonight I'm going to snuggle up to it and cover it in kisses."
"I hope you like the taste of wool, then."
"Oh, I doubt it will get to that."
"Depends on the round you plan stomach-kissing in, I guess," John said.
"Oh, I think I'll save that for the endgame."
"Hmm, I'd hope you'll kiss other bits than my stomach by then."
"That will be entirely up to you, I suppose."
"Not really, I can't make you do things," John answered.
"Oh," Sherlock said with a teasing smile. "I'll probably kiss any part of you I can get at, but in my current condition, I will have to wait for you to come to me."
"Hmm, interesting," John smirked. "Time for the next round?"
"If you say so," Sherlock shrugged, taking his hand away from John's. "Rules?"
John thought for a moment. "You can touch and kiss me, but not lower than my chest."
Sherlock beamed at him. "Get over here then." He patted his knee, beckoning him with a nod.
John decided to obey, even though he expected that it was a bad idea for his own chances.
Once John was settled on his lap, Sherlock pulled him down for a long slow kiss.
John hummed, but caught Sherlock's hand when it went lower than his shoulder blades. "Stick to the rules, love. The only reason your leg doesn't count is that you're functioning as a chair now, but one wrong move and we're back to the rules of round one."
"Sorry love," Sherlock purred, and placed his hand on the back of John's neck instead, stroking the skin just below the hairline with his thumb. Still holding him close, he began kissing his neck, working his way down from behind the ear. When he reached the shoulder he sighed, gave the jumper an exasperated look and then leaned back in the chair with a slight frown.
John smirked. "See something that bothers you?" He softly kissed Sherlock's lips again.
"A lot of things," Sherlock replied. "But I can't really do anything about it."
"No, and you'd lose if you tried, I think."
"Precisely." Sherlock took John's hand. "I'll just have to think of something else." He brought the hand to his lips and kissed the palm softly.
John smiled. "I love you."
"I love you too," Sherlock murmured as he moved on to John's fingers, kissing them and nibbling gently at the tips.
John's breath hitched, but he immediately tried to even it out again. Sherlock suppressed a smile, as he started sucking on the fingertips, one by one, taking his time, letting his tongue tease them just a little.
John hummed. This was the sort of inspiration he had hoped the game would bring to Sherlock.
Sherlock found he was enjoying this thoroughly. He closed his eyes and focused all his attention on John's fingers. John tangled his other hand in Sherlock's hair, softly scratching his scalp.
Sherlock hummed and leaned into the touch, then he took two of John's fingers in his mouth and sucked them in as far as he could, letting his tongue slide around and between them. John closed his eyes, as his body was reacting far too enthusiastically to the sight.
With a soft moan, Sherlock released the fingers, and pulled John in abruptly, pressing their lips together, his tongue snaking its way into John's mouth. John sighed and welcomed Sherlock's tongue, caressing it with his own as he pressed himself closer to Sherlock. Sherlock let his fingers slide down into John's jumper, enjoying the warmth of the frustratingly small amount of skin he could reach. He pitched his voice just a little low as he murmured John's name.
John wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck and nuzzled his cheek. The other man moved his attention to John's earlobe, first kissing it, then taking it between his lips and sucking lightly. John gently stroked his neck, letting out a small moan. Encouraged by the sound, Sherlock gave the ear a small bite before letting it go and nudging John's head so he could get at the other one.
John willingly moved his head. A vague thought in the back of his head said that time was probably running out for this round, but if he was honest he couldn't care less about the game.
Sherlock moved his hand to John's shoulder, massaging it lightly, still nibbling and sucking on his ear, with a small mischievous smile. John tilted his head further, offering his neck. Sherlock happily obliged kissing his way downwards. His hand kept working John's shoulder, his fingers searching out any tension and doing their best to ease it.
John groaned. "You really have to give me a proper massage at some point. When you can use both your hands again."
"Certainly," Sherlock muttered, his lips brushing against John's neck. He moved his hand to the other shoulder and started working on it.
John closed his eyes and sighed. "Actually we're in the next round," he muttered.
"Oh," Sherlock smiled. "Rules?"
"Touch anything except crotch and arse," John said quickly.
"Tease." He chuckled and moved his hand down John's back.
"Says who?" John retorted with a smirk.
"Says the man who loves you and wants you desperately," Sherlock replied, finally giving in and letting his voice drop. He grabbed John's jumper and pulled it up, just enough to get his hand under it.
John gasped. "You're still losing if you're the one undressing me." He couldn't resist pressing his nose against Sherlock's neck though. "I love you too. And I should probably not admit that I want you too."
"I'm not undressing you, but you didn't say anything about me getting under your clothes." Sherlock kept his voice low and was drawing out some of the words. He nuzzled John's neck, as he let his hand explore eagerly.
"Fair point," John muttered. He simply couldn't complain at that and pressed a kiss to Sherlock's neck.
"Only one problem," Sherlock commented, having worked his hand up to John's shoulder blades, sliding his fingers along them.
"Hmm?"
"Not enough hands," Sherlock complained, running his fingernails slowly down John's back.
John moaned softly. "If you could, you would be an octopus," he whispered breathily.
"Still not enough hands for your body." His hand had reached John's waist, and he snaked a single finger down the back of his trousers, careful not to go too far down.
John hummed. "A centipede, then. But those hands would be too small. I like your hands."
"Thank you." Sherlock started moving his hand around, letting the finger slide over John's hip. He gave him a little push, so he could get a better angle and then worked his hand round to the front.
"There it is," he said fondly.
"Really," John said, pulling back a little.
"Oh, come on," Sherlock whined, bending down. He pulled up on the shirt. "Just one kiss," he said and quickly pressed his lips to John's stomach.
John sighed and shook his head, slowly climbing off Sherlock's lap.
Sherlock pouted. "What?"
"I am allowed to move, too."
Sherlock watched him, puzzled.
John stepped behind Sherlock's chair and lightly stroked the length of his neck on both sides. He let one of his hands wander further down on Sherlock's chest, under his shirt. "Any rules you want to set?" he whispered in Sherlock's ear.
"No," Sherlock said, calmly. "You do whatever you want. In the end you'll probably be helping me no matter what."
John smirked and pulled his hands back. "Then it's no problem if I don't touch you at all, either."
"I'd be disappointed," Sherlock admitted. "But I don't exactly feel like making rules about you having to touch me."
"Hmm," John smiled. "Let's go to bed."
