I think this is going to end up being Greg and John with Mycroft watching? Maybe.
So this is what I wrote instead of my nano novel. its 2am and I took a bit of nyquil before editing, so if there’s errors, I’ll probably get them in the morning:
Not One Iota – Stuck with a hard on and not wanting Sherlock to know, John takes refuge in the alley. Of course Sherlock knows anyway.
teaser below the cut
So this is what I wrote instead of my nano novel. its 2am and I took a bit of nyquil before editing, so if there’s errors, I’ll probably get them in the morning:
Not One Iota – Stuck with a hard on and not wanting Sherlock to know, John takes refuge in the alley. Of course Sherlock knows anyway.
teaser below the cut
John leaned against the kitchen counter. This was ridiculous. He was a fully grown adult male; he knew how to handle an erection. But Sherlock had been around all day and if John hurried up stairs then Sherlock would know exactly what he was doing. Same if he suddenly took a shower in the middle of the day.
Taking a deep breath, he glanced into the front room, but Sherlock was still on the couch, fingers steepled. He’d hardly moved and John wanted to scream in frustration. Of course he could just go take care of it anyway, no matter what Sherlock might think, but the fact it was that git on the couch putting him in this condition was nearly too much as it was.
He made a show of opening the fridge and only found the kidneys from two days ago on the shelf. Good, an excuse. “Going to the shop,” he announced, striding out of the kitchen and grabbing his coat. His flatmate, like usual, said nothing.
Outside was chilly, but not nearly cold enough to take the edge off. He should go down to the pub, have a pint, find a girl, but that wasn’t what he wanted. Closing his eyes he turned down an alley and leaned against the bricks. His hand stole down to press his heel against his erection.
It’s not much and it’s probably not that great, but I wrote a supernatural thingy:
“This is so stupid Dean. I’m not a little kid anymore.” Sam glared up at his big brother.
“Dude, It’s Halloween. Free candy day.” Dean jammed the hat on his little brother’s head. He was wearing last spring’s t-ball uniform from four towns ago. The fact that it still fit wasn’t helping his mood any.
“How come you’re not dressing up?” Sam slouched his way out the motel door behind his brother.
“Just your chaperone,” grinned Dean. “Unless you want me to grab that clown wig I saw…”
Sam visibly shivered. “Whatever. I’m not holding your hand when we cross the street though.”
There was a neighborhood just a few blocks from the motel. Dean watched kids running up and down the streets with parents or older siblings tagging along behind. Sam might have been ten, but he was still cute enough to score them extra candy at a few houses while Dean lingered behind and smiled at the high school girls. Sam just rolled his eyes and dutifully rang doorbells until they reached a falling down, dark house at the end of the street.
“You don’t want to go in there, that’s the Witch’s house,” said one boy as they looked at it.
“Oh yeah?” Dean stood up a little straighter.
“Yeah. And last Halloween some girl hung herself in there.”
“Really.” Dean eyed the house while Sam rolled his eyes again. “Thanks. We should probably head home anyway.”
They headed back to the hotel. Sam shoved the bag of candy at Dean. “I know you want it anyway. Are we really going to investigate a house on Halloween? Without Dad?”
Dean popped a candy in his mouth. “Why not? Probably just kids telling stories anyway.”
The FINAL chapter of Salt in the Wounds is up!
Sunday Six
I’m working on the final chapter of my selkie fic:
John got up and moved to Sherlock. The selkie ran a hand through his hair as if counting the grays. John kissed him. “I’m not twenty-four anymore.”
“How old are you?”
“Fifty-two.”
Wrote an angsty little ficlet:
2AM Confessions – When he returns, Sherlock has nightmares, but John is always there.
teaser below the cut
John watched the pale figure twitch under the sheets. Before, Sherlock had hardly slept, great swathes of activity and inexhaustible energy. Now though, he slept like a drowning man gulped air. As if he’d never slept for three years.
Leaning down, John kissed the tangle of curls. Sherlock whimpered and turned to curl around John; a refuge and rock against the sea of nightmares.
The first time Sherlock woke up screaming John had his gun in his hands, flying down to Sherlock’s room before he was fully awake. The man wouldn’t talk about it, tried to assure the doctor he was fine. John had put the gun away and crawled into bed over his objections. A month later and he hadn’t passed a night in his own bed.
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.”