Scene for a sherlock fanfiction which requires completion.
Sherlock couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact moment when he started to fancy his flat-mate John Watson, an altogether obscure notion. This, coupled with the fact that he could not place when the feelings arose, was most unnerving given how methodical Sherlock’s mind was. He thought it must have begun fairly early on, perhaps even a few days after John moved in; or was it sooner than that? Sherlock’s face visibly scowled as he stirred his cup of coffee absently. He was most certain, however, that the inappropriate dreams about John had begun exactly two weeks after John’s arrival. That event could not be easily forgotten for he had awoken from his dream with an erection that he found very distasteful. Unfortunately for Sherlock, that night steered the course for how his other nights would play out. Not always the same, of course. Some nights he just had dreams: sweet ones, lustful ones, mournful ones. Other nights he would wake up aroused and frustrated with his body for having such a common reaction and always on those fretful occasions he would refuse himself relief.
“Morning!” came John’s cheery voice.
Sherlock snapped his head up and smiled animatedly at John.
Would it be so bad to allow himself release? He mused that it might help abate the thoughts, but he quickly pushed this from his mind, recalling that John was now in the kitchen with him.
“Sleep well?” Sherlock asked, knowing that he himself had had a night of unrelenting dreams and an aching member; in other words, he had not slept well.
“Yes actually, a dreamless sleep in fact.”
How fortunate for John.
“Pardon me” John said, reaching over Sherlock’s arm to grab some sugar cubes. The contact was almost too much for Sherlock and made him ever more aware of his predicament.
Sherlock quickly chugged his coffee, “Right, I’m going to pop in the shower than I’m off to meet up with Lestrade.” He was already heading out of the kitchen, desperate to be alone, when John called after him: “Save some hot water.”
~~~~~
In the shower Sherlock tried to clear his head of the thoughts that endlessly pervaded him. The water felt like absolution until the warmth seeped in, making his mind wander once more. He had resisted masturbation thus far, thinking it crude to partake in the act with images of John on his mind; but now would be the perfect time to carry out his illicit deed, being in the safety of the shower where he could wash away all evidence of his base behavior. A moment of weakness, a moment of humanity. With a shuddering breath he lowered his hand and gently took hold of his member whilst calling forward all of his lustful dreams. He worked gently at first, teasing himself with soft and tender strokes, imagining what Johns grip would feel like. It had been ages since he masturbated and the memories of its rewarding release helped him to quicken his pace. At first, he braced one hand against the wall of the shower but decided that was not enough support. He lowered himself to the floor, lying with his back against the tub, the water pelting down upon his stomach and member an added bonus to his aroused state. Fantasies of John pummeling him on the stairs, of John bending him over a desk filled Sherlock with delight; he began to moan.
There was a knock on the bathroom door but Sherlock refused to stop or acknowledge the disturbance.
The knock came once more, only it lasted a few seconds longer this time. Sherlock kept his pace and bit his lip, the pleasure mounting within his groin.
“Sherlock,” John’s voice called from the other side, “you better not use all the hot water up.” Sherlock was panting now and still he did not desist but instead his ministrations grew in urgency.
“Sherlock.” John called out again, his voice betraying his irritation. “Sherlock, I’m serious.” At that moment John’s voice served as the cue that pushed Sherlock over the edge; his head fell back against the tub as cum erupted from his member. He tried in vain to suppress the moan that overtook him as his body trembled with pleasure.
“Sherlock, are you alright?” Johns tone had changed to concern.
For a moment Sherlock could not respond. His breathing was ragged and fast but at last he managed a feeble, “No, I’m fine.”
“Alright well, hurry up…please?” John seemed to leave after that. Sherlock lay at the bottom of the tub for a few minutes longer before standing up and switching the shower off.
How would he face John now? It was bad enough he had repetitive sexual dreams about his flat-mate but now he had masturbated to the sound of John’s voice. It seemed decidedly improper but at the time he could not seem to help himself; testament to Sherlock’s beliefs that emotions shrouded all competent thought.
He dried off and tossed the towel over the shower, a look of dissatisfaction marring his features. After dressing he opened the door and nearly walked right into John. He took an instinctive step back, startled that John was still so near.
John stared at him, “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Quite alright,” Sherlock said, meeting his eyes only briefly.
John’s brows furrowed, “you’re alright then?”
“Perfectly sound.”
“Good…” John seemed curious but did not press him further, “Well, I need to shower. See you later tonight.”
“Right, see you later.” Sherlock fled from the bathroom feeling more awkward than he thought possible all the while cursing himself for acting so uncharacteristically in front of his friend. His desire was breaking him into someone he did not recognize; it simultaneously terrified and intrigued him. Later, he would need to take notes of this morning’s occurrences in hopes of better understanding them.
“Morning!” came John’s cheery voice.
Sherlock snapped his head up and smiled animatedly at John.
Would it be so bad to allow himself release? He mused that it might help abate the thoughts, but he quickly pushed this from his mind, recalling that John was now in the kitchen with him.
“Sleep well?” Sherlock asked, knowing that he himself had had a night of unrelenting dreams and an aching member; in other words, he had not slept well.
“Yes actually, a dreamless sleep in fact.”
How fortunate for John.
“Pardon me” John said, reaching over Sherlock’s arm to grab some sugar cubes. The contact was almost too much for Sherlock and made him ever more aware of his predicament.
Sherlock quickly chugged his coffee, “Right, I’m going to pop in the shower than I’m off to meet up with Lestrade.” He was already heading out of the kitchen, desperate to be alone, when John called after him: “Save some hot water.”
~~~~~
In the shower Sherlock tried to clear his head of the thoughts that endlessly pervaded him. The water felt like absolution until the warmth seeped in, making his mind wander once more. He had resisted masturbation thus far, thinking it crude to partake in the act with images of John on his mind; but now would be the perfect time to carry out his illicit deed, being in the safety of the shower where he could wash away all evidence of his base behavior. A moment of weakness, a moment of humanity. With a shuddering breath he lowered his hand and gently took hold of his member whilst calling forward all of his lustful dreams. He worked gently at first, teasing himself with soft and tender strokes, imagining what Johns grip would feel like. It had been ages since he masturbated and the memories of its rewarding release helped him to quicken his pace. At first, he braced one hand against the wall of the shower but decided that was not enough support. He lowered himself to the floor, lying with his back against the tub, the water pelting down upon his stomach and member an added bonus to his aroused state. Fantasies of John pummeling him on the stairs, of John bending him over a desk filled Sherlock with delight; he began to moan.
There was a knock on the bathroom door but Sherlock refused to stop or acknowledge the disturbance.
The knock came once more, only it lasted a few seconds longer this time. Sherlock kept his pace and bit his lip, the pleasure mounting within his groin.
“Sherlock,” John’s voice called from the other side, “you better not use all the hot water up.” Sherlock was panting now and still he did not desist but instead his ministrations grew in urgency.
“Sherlock.” John called out again, his voice betraying his irritation. “Sherlock, I’m serious.” At that moment John’s voice served as the cue that pushed Sherlock over the edge; his head fell back against the tub as cum erupted from his member. He tried in vain to suppress the moan that overtook him as his body trembled with pleasure.
“Sherlock, are you alright?” Johns tone had changed to concern.
For a moment Sherlock could not respond. His breathing was ragged and fast but at last he managed a feeble, “No, I’m fine.”
“Alright well, hurry up…please?” John seemed to leave after that. Sherlock lay at the bottom of the tub for a few minutes longer before standing up and switching the shower off.
How would he face John now? It was bad enough he had repetitive sexual dreams about his flat-mate but now he had masturbated to the sound of John’s voice. It seemed decidedly improper but at the time he could not seem to help himself; testament to Sherlock’s beliefs that emotions shrouded all competent thought.
He dried off and tossed the towel over the shower, a look of dissatisfaction marring his features. After dressing he opened the door and nearly walked right into John. He took an instinctive step back, startled that John was still so near.
John stared at him, “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Quite alright,” Sherlock said, meeting his eyes only briefly.
John’s brows furrowed, “you’re alright then?”
“Perfectly sound.”
“Good…” John seemed curious but did not press him further, “Well, I need to shower. See you later tonight.”
“Right, see you later.” Sherlock fled from the bathroom feeling more awkward than he thought possible all the while cursing himself for acting so uncharacteristically in front of his friend. His desire was breaking him into someone he did not recognize; it simultaneously terrified and intrigued him. Later, he would need to take notes of this morning’s occurrences in hopes of better understanding them.