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“Evening John,” Sherlock greeted as he stepped into the cold room and rubbed his hands together for warmth.
John just smirked at the thoughts of the faces Sherlock was about to make, if his plan went accordingly that is. They were the only two in the room, and John had made sure of it for the next half hour.
“Evening Sherlock,” John said standing from his seat in the corner.
“She’s quite the beauty isn’t she?”
Sherlock said nothing for awhile, as if wondering if he heard John correctly.
"Are you referring to the chair?” Sherlock asked, pointed eyebrows knit in confusion.
“Sit in it,” John demanded, and when Sherlock opened his mouth in protest, he replied swiftly.
"That’s an order.”
Sherlock, doing as John instructed, sat in the chair, and John marveled over him, mouth practically watering with the thoughts that littered his mind.
“Isn’t it comfortable?”
“John...,” Sherlock started, but John gave him the evil eye.
“John, I do not see how this is necessary.”
“Is it comfortable Sherlock?” John asked, annoyed.
"Precisely, as any chair fit for a man should.”
“And do you think that such a chair could withhold the weight of, oh I don’t know, two people?” Sherlock eyed him suspiciously, but kept his cool facade.
He stopped, as if to think over the calculations. “Yes, although I do not see why -“ John cut him off by sitting in his lap, and attacking the shorter man's mouth with his own.
“I don’t have time for that logic bullshit” John breathed, running his hands down Sherlock's chest.
Sherlock's breath hitched as John did so, and he found himself unable to move, surprised. John didn’t stop however, kissing the other again, running his tongue across Sherlock's bottom lip.
The other, to John's surprise, opened his mouth voluntarily, letting John in. As both fought for dominance, John trailed his hands down Sherlock's body, and to his pants, stroking the outside of his crotch. Sherlock moaned slightly, nibbling at the other’s bottom lip.
“Maybe there is another way I can be of assistance?” John could sense the smirk in Sherlock's tone, and god was that hot.
"And to what would you be referring to?” he managed between pants.
Sherlock stood, setting John into the chair, kneeling between his legs. He then proceeded to lick the other’s bulging member between the fabric of his breeches. John moaned. Sherlock then, using his long and intricate fingers, undid the button, and agonizingly pulled down his pants.
“S-Shit..” John managed, flustered.
Sherlock smirked with his eyes, and took in the hem of John's undergarments with his teeth, pulling them down to his ankles.
Sherlock eyed the pulsing member below him, and kissed the tip. John laced his fingers in his perfect curly locks, repressing the urge to push down. Sherlock complied, and took the head in his mouth, lapping at the pre-cum. John moaned lightly, and Sherlock took that as a sign to go on.
“Fuck, Sherlock.” He went ever slowly, taking his cock in inch by inch. When he finally reached the base, he came back up, releasing the head with an audible pop.
John eyed him as if he were about to die, and Sherlock found this entirely too amusing. He went down again, bobbing slowly, using one hand to steady himself, and the other to give John's balls a squeeze.
“Ahh.” With each pant and little moan Sherlock picked up speed, letting John fuck his mouth.
He curled his tongue around the member, teeth grazing it ever so slightly, because he knew that’s exactly how John liked it. Not too long before it started, it was over, and John came into the other man's mouth.
“Sher-loock.” Sherlock swallowed accordingly, and lapped up the rest of the cum. John eyed him, eyes glazed over from euphoria.
“Your turn.”