So..I wrote another smut fic.
Cuffed for Science – Sherlock storms into the bathroom to find John with his pants down. “Good! Just like I need you. it’s for a case!”
teaser below the cut
“I require your assistance John,” Sherlock opened the bathroom door.
“Sherlock!” John had his pants half up. “Knock, you bloody bastard!”
“No, no, you won’t need your pants. Or trousers.”
John stared daggers at his flatmate. “What do you need that won’t require pants?” he asked evenly, mentally counting to twenty.
“Come to my bedroom.”
John closed his eyes and upped the count to forty. “I’m not gay, Sherlock.”
“A man’s life depends on this, John, I need your assistance. I need to see how long it takes you to achieve orgasm.”
The mental count went to eighty before John opened his eyes. “Really?”
Sherlock gave John one of his looks. “It must be you, I cannot keep track of the various factors while masturbating myself. Besides. You need to be bound.”
John stared at him. “You want to tie me up and then do what?”
“Masturbate you. Do keep up, John. My bed is closer.”
Salt in the wounds chapter is up. second to last. One more to go:
Another Salt in the Wounds chapter is up. Two more left, I do believe. World War II has begun in earnest:
Okay doke, the next Salt in the Wounds chapter is up: April 1938
I think there’s maybe 3 chapters left?
Well I just finally read a beginners guide to apiology thanks to theonceandfuturemom and now i’m just going to sit here with my feels for a few long minutes…
I guess the good thing and the bad thing about coming to a fandom ‘late’ is there is all this beautiful material out there you end up discovering a year or more after everyone else did…
Twinklingray asked for a story about Sherlock buying John a cake. This became Sherlock buying John a birthday cake…
Also, if someone arts any of this for me I will love you forever:
When Sherlock Buys the Cake – Sherlock tried to make John’s birthday right. Unfortunately, this is Sherlock we’re talking about…
teaser below the cut
Sherlock woke early. He rolled over and found a sticky note in Mrs. Hudson’s handwriting: “John’s Birthday today. Cake.”
He sat up quickly. “Yes, cake,” he muttered to himself, getting up and dressed. The other side of the bed was empty, which meant John had already left for work. He briefly wondered how Mrs. Hudson had come up with the sticky note without waking him, but dismissed the thought as unimportant.
He went straight into the front room and grabbed his coat, noticing that John had left him some toast and jam on the table. He grabbed it and ate as he headed down the stairs, wondering where one would acquire such a thing as a cake.
He pulled out his phone and quickly did a search for bakers. There appeared to be one just a few blocks away. This should be a simple matter.
Stepping into the bakery, Sherlock froze in place, momentarily blocking the door. The place smelled of bread and sweets and one large case contained a virtual cornucopia of cakes of all sorts of shapes and sizes. Blinking, he stepped towards the cake, trying to ascertain which one John would prefer.
“Can I help you?” Sherlock glanced up at the man. Middle aged, family business, three kids and a cat. Wife deceased two years earlier.
“I need a cake,” he announced.