John gave Sherlock a quick glance from the safety of the reflection in the mirror. It wasn't often that the two of them had a case that would require actually doing a social activity. Especially not one where dressing up was not only advised, but a necessity. When he first heard that they would be in costume he was fine. No big deal, just your average Halloween party, apart from the whole murderer bit.
He hadn't really anticipated that Sherlock would be providing his costume because in Sherlock's words "I doubt you can emulate or create for that matter anything appropriate." He was used to it by now, the ridiculous whims of Sherlock Holmes were something he was secretly quite fond of. Eventually he had come to terms with even that, mainly because this party was going to be risqué to put it lightly and he honestly looked forward to seeing what ridiculously terrible outfits Sherlock would produce. He went back to watching Sherlock in the mirror as he laid a bag on John's bed and went straight back to his own, with a similar bag in his hands. John finished his teeth and almost ran to his room. He had not seen either costume and they were to be leaving in thirty minutes.
Ripping open the bag and pulling on his costume, John had to admit that Sherlock had great taste. It was a simple costume, tight fitting navy suit pants, a white and navy striped t-shirt that hugged the muscles in his biceps and a white captains hat , all of which had a small gold anchor embroidered on them somewhere. John was pretty snug in it, but that was the point, after all he was wearing a very large amount of clothing.
"Sherlock! We'd better get going, was it not you who complained about being bored?" John was waiting in the kitchen, trying to think what Sherlock would possibly be wearing a that took so long to put on when Sherlock strode in. Wearing jodphurs, cowboy boots and hat and nothing else. His entire upper body was on display. "Sherlock... You look..." John struggled to find the words to say exactly his magnificent he looked. He looked away, knowing full well that Sherlock would detect every indecent thought he was having about tearing off those leather trousers and taking him right there, because that would make Sherlock uncomfortable and he didn't want that. He'd come to terms with the fact that his flatmate was unreachable. His lower half was having none of that.
Fuck. Sherlock raised an arched brow and took a step closer as John attempted to move behind the counter, praying that Sherlock hadn't seen the physical manifestation of his thoughts. A slight smirk had broken out on Sherlock's face as he cornered John, his half naked body pressed so close yet not quite touching John's. "Did you know" Sherlock murmured in a low baritone "that I have quite a weakness for sailors? Especially consulting bloggers?"
Sherlock pressed closer still and he met John's eyes. They were blazing, pupils eclipsing all but the tiniest ring of blue. John's lips were on his in a heartbeat, and Sherlock was melting into him, hands straying, heart pounding, limbs all entirely focused on this new, lust filled John almost forgot that they were wearing the costumes for a reason, so blank had John rendered his mind. Sherlock was surprised to find he had a physical reaction to John's every move, and having the constraining jodphurs on was the only reason he remembered the case, because it had been more than a little difficult to get them off. He broke away from John, looking a little dazed. "Apparently I have a weakness for consulting cowboy detectives" John breathed into him as they tried to compose themselves. There was always after the case, plus it was added incentive to finish quickly.
Sherlock was confident that he could be done within five minutes of arriving. Had to get there to finish, and a taxi was the only option. Calming down a bit was the only solution because the taxi driver would not be pleased to see that. Sherlock made a mental note to keep the shirt John was wearing. It was what had spurred him forward, apparently the fitted quality was something of a turn on. That in itself intrigued him. It called for more... Testing. After all, A quality experiment had at least three repetitions.