Sherlock Holmes - Unpredictable
Title Unpredictable
Author Kiwi
Fandom Sherlock Holmes 09
Rating R
Characters, Pairing Holmes/Watson, Mary
Summary Watson and Mary wait for Holmes, only Holmes is waiting under Watson's desk. An unpredictable blowjob ensues.
Warnings Sexual content.
Disclaimer This is a work of fiction, and is in no way affiliated with the Sherlock Holmes franchise.
A/N I swear the movie is even gayer on Bluray. :D Short little porny fic.
"Holmes?" Watson calls, poking his head into the Baker Street residence. His voice reverberates in the empty hall, bouncing off the marble floors. Watson steps aside, letting Mary in before shutting the door behind them. They had come to retrieve some of Watson's papers, an old file that Watson had forgotten to take with him upon moving. "Holmes?" Watson called again, removing his hat. He had expected the man to be present at this late morning hour, but then again, Sherlock Holmes was a rather unpredictable individual. Noting that Mrs Hudson had already left to run errands for the day, Watson decided to simply look for his papers and wait for Holmes to return for a quick chat and possibly a cup of tea.
Ascending the stairs, Watson and Mary quickly scour Watson's old office, the doctor noticing that his friend has not moved but one piece of furniture or otherwise disturbed the room in any way. It had been kept just as he'd left it, as if Holmes had refused to enter the room at all. It is Mary who finds the file sitting underneath a stack of books, and Watson moves to sit at his former desk, leafing through the papers. "We'll wait for him here," he says, settling into the chair. Mary sits on the opposite side of the desk, turning to gaze out the window.
"Such a lovely view, John," she says cheerfully, looking out at the midday bustle of Baker Street.
"Not as lovely as the view at Cavendish Place," he counters, smiling softly. Mary laughs lightly, sighing. Watson only feels slightly guilty for lying to her about such a trivial thing, but feels guilty all the same. Cavendish Place does have a lovely view, Mary is his lovely wife, and -- oh. Oh, those are Holmes' lovely hands suddenly caressing his inner thighs. Squeezing his eyes shut, Watson curses silently to himself as Holmes' quick fingers deftly unbutton his trousers. Cock suddenly exposed, Watson lets outs a sharp hiss of air that he immediately regrets when Mary turns toward him.
"Something wrong, John?" she asks, sweetly concerned.
Yes, my colleague and part-time lover's hands are on my cock while you're sitting no more than five feet away. "Nothing, dear. Just exasperated, I thought Holmes would be here at an appropriate time," Watson manages, stressing the word 'appropriate' as Holmes spreads his legs further apart to settle in between them. Watson clenches his teeth while Holmes kisses his inner thigh, bringing Watson's half-hard cock dangerously close to full arousal. He looks up at Mary, forcing a light smile in her direction.
"Perhaps we should go?" Mary suggests, shifting to raise from her seat. Watson is about to respond when suddenly Holmes' hot mouth has enveloped his cock, the wet heat around his arousal sending spurts of white-hot electricity down Watson's spine.
"Ah! Ah-I think we should give him a few more minutes," Watson nearly shouts, digging his nails into the wood of the desk. Mary gives him a quizzical stare, but slowly returns to her spot by the window. Watson can feel Holmes smile around his cock, a very low laugh deep in his throat vibrating ever-so-slightly against his member. Watson chokes back a moan, attempting to cover it with an obnoxiously loud cough. Holmes' mouth is working faster now, his tongue rapidly covering the length of Watson's cock with deliberate, practiced motions, lips pulling back to administer tantalising suction at unpredictable intervals.
"John, dear, you're flushed. Are you sure you're alright?" Mary asks, and Watson cannot bring himself to look her in the eye -- not while Holmes' tongue is painting a masterpiece on his cock, rough fingers teasing at his balls. Watson can feel his face is heated, probably noticeably red.
"Quite alright," he hisses, his attempt at keeping a steady voice barely managed. Through the blood pounding in his ears, Watson can make out the sound of Mrs Hudson returning downstairs, and he could almost cry with relief. "Mary, I do believe Mrs Hudson has returned. Would you be a dear and inform her of our presence?" He's not quite sure how he gets the entire sentence out, but it must have sounded at least halfway convincing, for Mary only hesitates for a second before smiling softly and padding lightly across the room and out the door. As soon as the door clicks behind her, Watson lolls his head back and comes hard, emitting a low, throaty moan as Holmes swallows every drop, the detective's hands firmly on Watson's thighs.
Watson keeps his eyes shut as Holmes slinks out from underneath his desk, still basking in the warmth that radiates from his core. "You are irreparably depraved, Holmes," Watson mutters, blinking. Holmes sits on the edge of the desk, hair mussed and expression smug. He leans in quickly, placing a soft kiss to Watson's lips before pulling back swiftly, just as the door to the office re-opens, Mary and Mrs Hudson entering with a pot of tea and a plate of biscuits.
"Oh, Mr Holmes, I didn't see you come in," Mary says, handing the detective a cup of tea. Holmes smirks dangerously at Watson.
"You must not have been paying attention," he replies, voice husky. Mary raises an eyebrow and glances over at Watson, who is very intently putting far too much sugar in his tea.
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comments?
Author Kiwi
Fandom Sherlock Holmes 09
Rating R
Characters, Pairing Holmes/Watson, Mary
Summary Watson and Mary wait for Holmes, only Holmes is waiting under Watson's desk. An unpredictable blowjob ensues.
Warnings Sexual content.
Disclaimer This is a work of fiction, and is in no way affiliated with the Sherlock Holmes franchise.
A/N I swear the movie is even gayer on Bluray. :D Short little porny fic.
"Holmes?" Watson calls, poking his head into the Baker Street residence. His voice reverberates in the empty hall, bouncing off the marble floors. Watson steps aside, letting Mary in before shutting the door behind them. They had come to retrieve some of Watson's papers, an old file that Watson had forgotten to take with him upon moving. "Holmes?" Watson called again, removing his hat. He had expected the man to be present at this late morning hour, but then again, Sherlock Holmes was a rather unpredictable individual. Noting that Mrs Hudson had already left to run errands for the day, Watson decided to simply look for his papers and wait for Holmes to return for a quick chat and possibly a cup of tea.
Ascending the stairs, Watson and Mary quickly scour Watson's old office, the doctor noticing that his friend has not moved but one piece of furniture or otherwise disturbed the room in any way. It had been kept just as he'd left it, as if Holmes had refused to enter the room at all. It is Mary who finds the file sitting underneath a stack of books, and Watson moves to sit at his former desk, leafing through the papers. "We'll wait for him here," he says, settling into the chair. Mary sits on the opposite side of the desk, turning to gaze out the window.
"Such a lovely view, John," she says cheerfully, looking out at the midday bustle of Baker Street.
"Not as lovely as the view at Cavendish Place," he counters, smiling softly. Mary laughs lightly, sighing. Watson only feels slightly guilty for lying to her about such a trivial thing, but feels guilty all the same. Cavendish Place does have a lovely view, Mary is his lovely wife, and -- oh. Oh, those are Holmes' lovely hands suddenly caressing his inner thighs. Squeezing his eyes shut, Watson curses silently to himself as Holmes' quick fingers deftly unbutton his trousers. Cock suddenly exposed, Watson lets outs a sharp hiss of air that he immediately regrets when Mary turns toward him.
"Something wrong, John?" she asks, sweetly concerned.
Yes, my colleague and part-time lover's hands are on my cock while you're sitting no more than five feet away. "Nothing, dear. Just exasperated, I thought Holmes would be here at an appropriate time," Watson manages, stressing the word 'appropriate' as Holmes spreads his legs further apart to settle in between them. Watson clenches his teeth while Holmes kisses his inner thigh, bringing Watson's half-hard cock dangerously close to full arousal. He looks up at Mary, forcing a light smile in her direction.
"Perhaps we should go?" Mary suggests, shifting to raise from her seat. Watson is about to respond when suddenly Holmes' hot mouth has enveloped his cock, the wet heat around his arousal sending spurts of white-hot electricity down Watson's spine.
"Ah! Ah-I think we should give him a few more minutes," Watson nearly shouts, digging his nails into the wood of the desk. Mary gives him a quizzical stare, but slowly returns to her spot by the window. Watson can feel Holmes smile around his cock, a very low laugh deep in his throat vibrating ever-so-slightly against his member. Watson chokes back a moan, attempting to cover it with an obnoxiously loud cough. Holmes' mouth is working faster now, his tongue rapidly covering the length of Watson's cock with deliberate, practiced motions, lips pulling back to administer tantalising suction at unpredictable intervals.
"John, dear, you're flushed. Are you sure you're alright?" Mary asks, and Watson cannot bring himself to look her in the eye -- not while Holmes' tongue is painting a masterpiece on his cock, rough fingers teasing at his balls. Watson can feel his face is heated, probably noticeably red.
"Quite alright," he hisses, his attempt at keeping a steady voice barely managed. Through the blood pounding in his ears, Watson can make out the sound of Mrs Hudson returning downstairs, and he could almost cry with relief. "Mary, I do believe Mrs Hudson has returned. Would you be a dear and inform her of our presence?" He's not quite sure how he gets the entire sentence out, but it must have sounded at least halfway convincing, for Mary only hesitates for a second before smiling softly and padding lightly across the room and out the door. As soon as the door clicks behind her, Watson lolls his head back and comes hard, emitting a low, throaty moan as Holmes swallows every drop, the detective's hands firmly on Watson's thighs.
Watson keeps his eyes shut as Holmes slinks out from underneath his desk, still basking in the warmth that radiates from his core. "You are irreparably depraved, Holmes," Watson mutters, blinking. Holmes sits on the edge of the desk, hair mussed and expression smug. He leans in quickly, placing a soft kiss to Watson's lips before pulling back swiftly, just as the door to the office re-opens, Mary and Mrs Hudson entering with a pot of tea and a plate of biscuits.
"Oh, Mr Holmes, I didn't see you come in," Mary says, handing the detective a cup of tea. Holmes smirks dangerously at Watson.
"You must not have been paying attention," he replies, voice husky. Mary raises an eyebrow and glances over at Watson, who is very intently putting far too much sugar in his tea.
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comments?