AN1: I was going to post this in a few days, but since it is Valentine's day, here is a taste of smut for you, all my lovely readers. Happy Valentine's Day!

SH/JW

The petrol station that they stopped at was a bit dingy and on the run down side, but the bored looking attendant was not likely to notice as much if he and John were to spend an inordinate amount of time in the lav attending to his hair. Greg had gotten the key for them and the two of them were now working on shampooing his hair over a tiny sink.

'Don't worry so much Heddwyn, Mistress taught me how to do this.'

A streak of anger flooded his veins. How dare she?

'She liked having her hair washed for her.'

He caught John's smile from the corner of his eye and couldn't help the fissure of jealousy that tightened his stomach. Taking a deep breath he tried desperately to keep his voice steady as he replied. 'Is that so?'

'Yes. She said that it was something I should know, since you have such wonderful hair yourself and would appreciate it if I knew how to attend to it correctly.'

He hummed deep in his throat and couldn't deny to himself that he was indeed enjoying the feel of John's fingers massaging his scalp as he worked the dye out. His eyes slid shut as John's fingers hit the knots that had taken up residence at the base of his skull and started to work them out.

'My poor Detective. You have been lost without me haven't you?' John cooed. 'Don't worry I'm here now.' His voice dropped nearly half an octave as he practically purred, 'I'm going to take very good care of you my own.'

Sherlock could not help the shiver that shook his frame as his fingers tightened their grip on the edge of the sink. His knees felt like they were made of water. No this wasn't… he shouldn't… but oh God, John was blowing in his ear and those fingers on his neck.

'Soon my own I'll show you just what I know. You will love it.'

Warm hands were replaced with warm water as John rinsed out the shampoo and questing fingers roamed his head as the suds were worked out and the black was replaced with ginger. Soon, as the water dripped down the sides of his face, the fingers wandered off of his head and down his spine. They stopped at the waistband of his trousers and lingered there for a moment before one hand returned to his head and the other slipped around to his stomach and pressed him back into John's warmth. God, he could feel… oh God he was hard.

Sherlock started to pant, his breathing no longer steady as John's left hand slid around so that it was caressing his throat and his right one…

'Not so indifferent. I love that even with me barely touching you, you are this hard for me Sherlock.'

John was surely not going to, was he?

Apparently so. With barely a sound and John only giving him a few soft tugs through his trousers, Sherlock lost control for the first time in his life and shattered right there. He would have fallen had not John's arm been wrapped around his middle and he had a white knuckled grip on the sinks rim.

'So responsive.'

John's hand on his neck was replaced with a soft towel as his arm tightened around Sherlock's midsection.

'Don't worry, I'll clean that up too.'

'Hmm, what?'

Rather than respond verbally John caressed him again, sending shivers through the thoroughly sated Detective. Turning him John pressed him back into the sink and knelt before him, his hands falling to Sherlock's belt buckle. 'Look at me Sherlock.'

Sherlock took a shuddering breath as he opened his eyes to look down on the kneeling man. All he could do was watch as his blogger undid his trousers and slid them and his undergarments down. Silvery-green met hazel and nearly closed again as John's tongue slid out and… Oh.

It was at least another fifteen minutes before they made it out of the lav, his hair only partly dry and his knees feeling like they would never hold weight properly again. Fortunately Greg either didn't notice the flush on his face, or choose to ignore it. He was grateful none the less.

'So ready to go?'

John just grinned as he slid into the car, seeming to be completely unaffected by the fact that he had just fellated Sherlock in a petrol station lavatory.

SH/JW

AN2: Oh god this one got away from me. Bad, naughty John... I was blushing the whole time too. But oh dear, it was so satisfying to write. And now dear, poor, darling Sherlock is all flustered. Just hold on to something, because John has more naughty plans in mind and Sherlock is going to learn that there is no fixing what likes to be broke. Love and Chocolates to all!