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This is a story written for the Sherlock BBC KinkMeme post which you can find right here
The prompt: "John realizes that he can train Sherlock like a Pavlovian dog. Every day that he gets milk, he announces, "...oh, and I got some milk", and then proceeds to ravish Sherlock afterwards. Which leads to Sherlock subconsciously associating John getting the milk with sex."
The story: Sherlock/John, NC-17, Slash, Smut, SEX (I don't know how to put it clearer guys)
Don't like? Don't read.
John was tired. It had been a long day at work and he wasn’t particularly excited about going home. He knew that there hadn’t been many cases and Sherlock had been bored. This of course did not bode well for him, seeing as bored Sherlock was dreadfully annoying and his mood was all around foul. And most of that was geared toward John.
So while he wanted to get home to relax, maybe have a nice shag beforehand, he knew there was a slim chance of that happening.
He was walking toward the door when he met up with one of the new doctors that worked under him.
“Hello John! Thank goodness I found you before you left. I need to show you something!”
John stopped, turning and giving the girl an odd look. “What is it?” he said, a hint of concern in his voice.
Picking up on his tone the girl shook her head. “Oh. I’m sorry. It’s not important. I just haven’t seen you at all today because it was busy. I wanted to show you this!” She pulled out her phone and showed John the screen.
John saw a picture of a very large dog on its back, tongue sticking out and looking out at him. He smiled. “New dog?”
She smiled. “Yup. Just got him a couple of weeks ago and he’s already learned so much. I just snapped this shot after I taught him play dead. I’m proud of myself for being able to pull that off.”
She put the phone back in her pocket. John shrugged slightly. “I don’t know how you find the time to train a new dog. Must be difficult.”
“Oh not really…” she said, smiling. “All you have to do is apply basic behaviorism techniques. Do something, treat. Association, conditioning, all that jazz.” She laughed. “You should know that. You only have the same name as the ‘Founder of Behaviorism’. It should be second nature.” Her beeper went off suddenly. “Oh… that’s me. I’ll talk to you tomorrow John.” She turned slightly, then looked over her shoulder “You know John, this technique works well with boyfriends too.” With that she winked and walked briskly down the hall.
John turned and shook his head. This girl reminded him of a younger version of Mrs. Hudson in the way she carried herself. And her weird need to know what was going on between him and Sherlock. Although… He smirked at the idea forming in his head. Simple eh?
He walked through the front door with a giant smile on his face. He didn’t even try to hide it. It was pointless anyway.
“Sherlock!” He called, going into the kitchen with a few bags to find the man doing something on the counter. At least it didn’t smell like decomposition…
The detective consultant didn’t acknowledge the other man so John just continued. “I picked up a few groceries. Tea since we were running low and some biscuits.” He moved to put the items away. “… oh and I got some milk.”
As soon as the words left his mouth he wrapped one arm around the thin waist and slipped his hand up the button down shirt as the other tangled itself in dark curls, pulling them to the side as he attacked the pale neck, nipping and sucking the pale skin. Whatever was in Sherlocks hand dropped to the table, allowing John to take the opportunity to spin him around move to his lips, diving into his mouth and tasting him. When he pulled away from Sherlock, he was happy to see the shocked look still on the sharp face, pupils blown wide.
“Room?” John asks, smirk at the state he got Sherlock in.
He blinked a few times and his entire demeanor changed. “Room.” He growled back, dragging John immediately down the hall.
One week and four milk runs later, John was quite pleased with himself. By the second time, Sherlock gave him a questioning look at the attack, the third he turned into it, and the fourth he didn’t even allow them to get to the room. Today, John came home as normal, but Sherlock wasn’t home. Must have been called. He shrugs and puts the groceries away, sitting in his chair and watching some bad telly.
A few hours later the front door opens and the man comes storming in, a sour look on his face.
“Really am I the only one that is capable of simply observing what’s right there?”
“Easy case?” John said, tilting his head to watch Sherlock hang his coat and scarf.
“That’s an understatement. I honestly don’t know how they get paid. I mean, I’m sure they had to be hired due to some sort of skill set but the way they ignore facts that are-“
“Yes yes, not everyone is as bloody brilliant as you. Now relax. I’ll make us tea. I got some milk on the way home and-”
John gasped as he was cut off by arms spinning him and pinning him against the closest wall, lips immediately on his. Thank god his body reacted before his brain because it took about ten seconds for him to realize that Sherlock was against him, lips roughly moving against his, nimble fingers working quickly to remove belt and trousers. They separated as Sherlock removed the jumper and shirt, allowing John to process what was going on. He hadn’t realized he said the magic words but he must have, seeing as Sherlock had the same hungry look he had during the four test runs in the past week.
That thought was quickly disappearing into the depths of his mind as he started reacting, quickly undoing the buttons of the detectives shirt. Sherlock moaned slightly as John moved his lips from the detective’s mouth to his long neck, pushing the shirt to the floor and making quick work at removing the trousers. Sherlock’s eyes widened as he grabbed Johns hands and pinned them against the wall. John gasped and realized this was going to be one of those times.
He smirked.
Sherlock pushed down both their trousers and pants grasped both erections in one hand, roughly stroking them together. Moans filled the room and John tried to fight back by marking the already marked skin. Sherlock pushed John back against the wall with his free hand and then gently grazed over the scar that adorned the soldiers shoulder, an amazing contrast to what he was doing below and something that made John all but lose it.
Sherlock took both hands away and pushed fingers in Johns face.
“Just do it.”
“John, you’re a doctor. You should know-”
“Sherlock.” His voice was low, dangerous, and that made Sherlock immediately silence himself and growl, pushing the smaller man up the wall.
He entered fluidly, both of them moaning out as John tried to relax himself as quickly as possible. A quiet voice in his head said he was going to regret it, but that was blocked out by the immediate satisfaction. Sherlock moved and John just held on, wrapping himself and knowing, from previous experiences, that Sherlock can easily hold his weight. He moaned as the slow deep thrusts were replaced with quick ones, hitting that spot each time. They both were calling each other, their names ghosts between their lips as they joined their lips together, messy, far too much tongue and teeth but far too little complete thought processes for either of them to care. The movements with the addition that their bodies were so tight against each other made John lose it far more quickly than he wanted to, clenching around Sherlock and making him come to completion, the low groan causing both chests to rattle.
They both slumped to the floor as they caught their breaths, foreheads touching, eyes closed. Finally Sherlock moved out of John and looked at him, huge grin plastered on his face.
Wait.
“You knew didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question.
Sherlock smiled a bit more. “Of course I did. Didn’t make it lose its effect, but yes.”
“And why didn’t you say anything?”
“I was merely waiting for you to say it without meaning for the reaction so you can realize what you have gotten yourself into.”
John raised an eyebrow. “So basically this is going to happen every time?”
Sherlock leaned in a little closer before saying “Well considering I now get hard at the statement, yes.”
John rolled his eyes a little before giving a smile back. Really, how could this possibly be a bad thing?
The prompt: "John realizes that he can train Sherlock like a Pavlovian dog. Every day that he gets milk, he announces, "...oh, and I got some milk", and then proceeds to ravish Sherlock afterwards. Which leads to Sherlock subconsciously associating John getting the milk with sex."
The story: Sherlock/John, NC-17, Slash, Smut, SEX (I don't know how to put it clearer guys)
Don't like? Don't read.
John was tired. It had been a long day at work and he wasn’t particularly excited about going home. He knew that there hadn’t been many cases and Sherlock had been bored. This of course did not bode well for him, seeing as bored Sherlock was dreadfully annoying and his mood was all around foul. And most of that was geared toward John.
So while he wanted to get home to relax, maybe have a nice shag beforehand, he knew there was a slim chance of that happening.
He was walking toward the door when he met up with one of the new doctors that worked under him.
“Hello John! Thank goodness I found you before you left. I need to show you something!”
John stopped, turning and giving the girl an odd look. “What is it?” he said, a hint of concern in his voice.
Picking up on his tone the girl shook her head. “Oh. I’m sorry. It’s not important. I just haven’t seen you at all today because it was busy. I wanted to show you this!” She pulled out her phone and showed John the screen.
John saw a picture of a very large dog on its back, tongue sticking out and looking out at him. He smiled. “New dog?”
She smiled. “Yup. Just got him a couple of weeks ago and he’s already learned so much. I just snapped this shot after I taught him play dead. I’m proud of myself for being able to pull that off.”
She put the phone back in her pocket. John shrugged slightly. “I don’t know how you find the time to train a new dog. Must be difficult.”
“Oh not really…” she said, smiling. “All you have to do is apply basic behaviorism techniques. Do something, treat. Association, conditioning, all that jazz.” She laughed. “You should know that. You only have the same name as the ‘Founder of Behaviorism’. It should be second nature.” Her beeper went off suddenly. “Oh… that’s me. I’ll talk to you tomorrow John.” She turned slightly, then looked over her shoulder “You know John, this technique works well with boyfriends too.” With that she winked and walked briskly down the hall.
John turned and shook his head. This girl reminded him of a younger version of Mrs. Hudson in the way she carried herself. And her weird need to know what was going on between him and Sherlock. Although… He smirked at the idea forming in his head. Simple eh?
He walked through the front door with a giant smile on his face. He didn’t even try to hide it. It was pointless anyway.
“Sherlock!” He called, going into the kitchen with a few bags to find the man doing something on the counter. At least it didn’t smell like decomposition…
The detective consultant didn’t acknowledge the other man so John just continued. “I picked up a few groceries. Tea since we were running low and some biscuits.” He moved to put the items away. “… oh and I got some milk.”
As soon as the words left his mouth he wrapped one arm around the thin waist and slipped his hand up the button down shirt as the other tangled itself in dark curls, pulling them to the side as he attacked the pale neck, nipping and sucking the pale skin. Whatever was in Sherlocks hand dropped to the table, allowing John to take the opportunity to spin him around move to his lips, diving into his mouth and tasting him. When he pulled away from Sherlock, he was happy to see the shocked look still on the sharp face, pupils blown wide.
“Room?” John asks, smirk at the state he got Sherlock in.
He blinked a few times and his entire demeanor changed. “Room.” He growled back, dragging John immediately down the hall.
One week and four milk runs later, John was quite pleased with himself. By the second time, Sherlock gave him a questioning look at the attack, the third he turned into it, and the fourth he didn’t even allow them to get to the room. Today, John came home as normal, but Sherlock wasn’t home. Must have been called. He shrugs and puts the groceries away, sitting in his chair and watching some bad telly.
A few hours later the front door opens and the man comes storming in, a sour look on his face.
“Really am I the only one that is capable of simply observing what’s right there?”
“Easy case?” John said, tilting his head to watch Sherlock hang his coat and scarf.
“That’s an understatement. I honestly don’t know how they get paid. I mean, I’m sure they had to be hired due to some sort of skill set but the way they ignore facts that are-“
“Yes yes, not everyone is as bloody brilliant as you. Now relax. I’ll make us tea. I got some milk on the way home and-”
John gasped as he was cut off by arms spinning him and pinning him against the closest wall, lips immediately on his. Thank god his body reacted before his brain because it took about ten seconds for him to realize that Sherlock was against him, lips roughly moving against his, nimble fingers working quickly to remove belt and trousers. They separated as Sherlock removed the jumper and shirt, allowing John to process what was going on. He hadn’t realized he said the magic words but he must have, seeing as Sherlock had the same hungry look he had during the four test runs in the past week.
That thought was quickly disappearing into the depths of his mind as he started reacting, quickly undoing the buttons of the detectives shirt. Sherlock moaned slightly as John moved his lips from the detective’s mouth to his long neck, pushing the shirt to the floor and making quick work at removing the trousers. Sherlock’s eyes widened as he grabbed Johns hands and pinned them against the wall. John gasped and realized this was going to be one of those times.
He smirked.
Sherlock pushed down both their trousers and pants grasped both erections in one hand, roughly stroking them together. Moans filled the room and John tried to fight back by marking the already marked skin. Sherlock pushed John back against the wall with his free hand and then gently grazed over the scar that adorned the soldiers shoulder, an amazing contrast to what he was doing below and something that made John all but lose it.
Sherlock took both hands away and pushed fingers in Johns face.
“Just do it.”
“John, you’re a doctor. You should know-”
“Sherlock.” His voice was low, dangerous, and that made Sherlock immediately silence himself and growl, pushing the smaller man up the wall.
He entered fluidly, both of them moaning out as John tried to relax himself as quickly as possible. A quiet voice in his head said he was going to regret it, but that was blocked out by the immediate satisfaction. Sherlock moved and John just held on, wrapping himself and knowing, from previous experiences, that Sherlock can easily hold his weight. He moaned as the slow deep thrusts were replaced with quick ones, hitting that spot each time. They both were calling each other, their names ghosts between their lips as they joined their lips together, messy, far too much tongue and teeth but far too little complete thought processes for either of them to care. The movements with the addition that their bodies were so tight against each other made John lose it far more quickly than he wanted to, clenching around Sherlock and making him come to completion, the low groan causing both chests to rattle.
They both slumped to the floor as they caught their breaths, foreheads touching, eyes closed. Finally Sherlock moved out of John and looked at him, huge grin plastered on his face.
Wait.
“You knew didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question.
Sherlock smiled a bit more. “Of course I did. Didn’t make it lose its effect, but yes.”
“And why didn’t you say anything?”
“I was merely waiting for you to say it without meaning for the reaction so you can realize what you have gotten yourself into.”
John raised an eyebrow. “So basically this is going to happen every time?”
Sherlock leaned in a little closer before saying “Well considering I now get hard at the statement, yes.”
John rolled his eyes a little before giving a smile back. Really, how could this possibly be a bad thing?