literature

Seduction: Chapter Four

Deviation Actions

Watson-Locked's avatar
Published:
964 Views

Literature Text

***********************************************************

Sherlock seemed to be absent from home for the next three days. John didn't mind his disappearances every so often, but it had only been two weeks since his last escape. He didn't have much to do beyond work, he didn't feel much like going on dates, not since Sherlock had been so oddly wrapped in his thoughts, sweating and nude-there he went again fantasizing.

He dug out his phone from the pocket of his tight fitting jeans and searched for a number that wouldn't connect him to some dull bloke. He smiled as he found the DI's number.

Greg, do you want to go out for drinks, Sherlock's gone and I've been a bit bored. –JW

He waited eagerly for a reply, his patience wearing thin as the man finally messaged back.

I've been waiting for you to ask. Meet me at the pub in five. –GL

He gazed at the phone and smiled once more. Satisfaction.

John slowly made his way to the pub to find Lestrade waiting for him at the entrance. The man mustered on a smiled and reached out the give John an awkward sort of hug that neither of them really wanted before heading inside. John unwrapped himself from the coat, rolling up the sleeves of his jumper and allowing his skin to feel the warm air inside.

"Two pints of beer please," Greg ordered to the barmaid as she sat three pints on the table opposite of them.  The detective inspector turned his attention back to John.

"So you don't know where Sherlock's been?" he asked in a concerned tone. John only shook his head.

"He just ran off about three days ago, hasn't called me since, won't answer my messages, It's a bit odd don't you think -even for Sherlock?" The barmaid set the drinks on the table and Lestrade gave her a weak smile instead of a thank you. He furrowed his brows at John.

"Three days? He hasn't talked to me in three weeks! I thought he went missing, you must have been bloody worried."

He shot John that –I know you're dying to be domestic- look and John shook his head pleadingly.

"No. Sherlock and I aren't like that. I worry about him because he is my friend. There's nothing going on- or maybe there is," he fixed himself, "Sherlock has been acting weird lately, he disappeared last week too and then when he came back he was," John leaned in closer, afraid to speak the next set of words any louder than a whisper, "touchy and nice, not Sherlock at all."

Greg chuckled to himself a bit, lifting his drink and downing half in that incredible way that he did.  He focused back on John.

"Have you considered the possibility that he like you?" he shared in the same deep whisper, giving John's shoulder a nudge with his own.

"That's highly unlikely. I mean it's Sherlock we're talking about here! He's married to his work, he told me so himself."
John took a swig of the drink himself, setting it back down in a dramatic crash. Lestrade gave him a look like he misread something.

"What?" John asked.

"John, he works WITH you."

**************************************************************

John was defiantly drunk when he arrived home, dizzy, sick and drunk. Sherlock was perched on his chair, reading some newspaper article.  He set it down and looked displeased at John. Drunk again, the third time this week. He sighed.

"John, you know I do not like it when you come home intoxicated. Please take a shower and go to bed early so you can avoid such an awful hangover tomorrow. I'll bring you up some pain medicine when you are done preparing for bed."

John rolled his eyes and attempted to make a snigh comment but was interrupted by Sherlock's lips pressed agents his once more.  He didn't try to tug away; he pulled the detective closer and kisses him hard, with tongue before the detective backed away.

"Now John, do as I said," Sherlock panted in the deep voice that had John melting.  John nodded, his cheeks were red hot and his whole body had craved more, the touch of Sherlock's body agents his, his hands softly pressed agents his face. He hungered for those soft lips to be pressed feverently to his own. But, as he moved to catch his lips again, Sherlock had stepped away.

"John, shower and go to bed. Do not make me repeat myself."

John gulped and nodded again. He made his way up the stairs with little trouble, stripping himself of his clothes and jumping into the shower. He pounded his head agents the shower door. He was stupid, so stupid. Had he really kissed Sherlock back? Had he longed for his lips when they were gone? Dammit he was IN the shower because Sherlock had told him to be. He was drunk, but not drunk enough to know that this was wrong, to know that he had wanted that kiss more than Sherlock had. He had personally shattered the boundaries of their friendship. It was off, unbalanced, wrong.

John dried himself off with a dark blue towel, wrapping it around his waist as he came back down stairs, a bit more sober. Sherlock smiled and handed him painkillers, for the hangover to come and a glass of milk.  John frowned at the drink.

"Sherlock, we need to…"

"No, John we don't. Now get ready for bed."

John stared down at the medicine and fingered it down his throat, using the milk to wash it down. He handed the empty glass back to Sherlock and sighed, heading back up stairs. He honestly didn't know why he was following Sherlock's absurd rules, putting on pajamas and climbing into bed early for what? So that-as he hoped- Sherlock would eventually join him in bed? So that he would be rewarded with another kiss?

What was Sherlock doing to him?
************************************************************
Sherlock tries to seduce John further, telling himwhat to do with a sweet demanding tone. John starts to realize that whatever Sherlock is trying to do to him, it's working.
© 2012 - 2024 Watson-Locked
Comments6
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
I'm loving these stories! Sherlock being the dominant type... very nice