I wrote this for my friend Ket because she's awesome!

Warning, there's sex. And like, no plot XD

written and posted in a night, so sorry if I have any glaring spelling errors!

Enjoy the smut~

Sherlock eyed John carefully as he moved restlessly about, being sure to flop as loudly as his squeaking chair would let him every minute or so, feeling antsy and understimulated and hoping for a bit of compassioned attention.

John's fingers tightened slightly around his newspaper every time the chair cried out, shifted slightly in his seat whenever Sherlock let out a particularly loud sigh, and his eyes were zeroed in on the center, not scanning about like they should, were he actually reading. Sherlock knew John was keenly aware of him, should very well know he was bored and yet he insisted on fake reading the paper. John was blatantly ignoring him!

John grit his jaw, lips twitching a bit as he suppressed the urge to smirk, amused with how this brilliant man who so often worked with death, could devolve into this. He was really quite childish. Sherlock was sulking there was no other way about it, and it was sometimes amusing to see the Amazing Sherlock pouting like a child denied candy.

He shook out the paper, straightening the center of it as he pretended to read the last few lines in whatever article, happy to keep up the pretense even if he knew Sherlock could deduce he wasn't really reading. In fact it was better that way, this silent game, pushing to see if Sherlock would actually call him out, or would wait to see what John would do out of interest. Bored as he was, he could likely obsess over anything enough to convince himself it was fascinating. But Sherlock said nothing, only squinting and shuffling about and oh so pointedly showing off his impatience, and at last John folded his paper and set it aside, turning to look at Sherlock with a calm smile.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you want something then?"

Sherlock's eyes widened, though in shock or outrage John couldn't say, and John was rather glad for the several feet between them at that moment. If Sherlock were ever to slap someone, now might have been the time.

"John." he clipped out, mouth tense with a distaste he seemed to have uniquely for inanity. He certainly never had it for the terrible things he investigated, "John you well know I have been waiting on you, clearly nothing to do for several minutes while you ignore me to pretend to read the paper!"

John merely gave him a slow blinking smile, shaking his head, "Oh, have you been waiting on me then?" he asked with feigned naivety.

Normally John was quite attentive to Sherlock, he was not one to tease others, or purposefully upset anyone. But Sherlock could be a bit of a twat, and sometimes he needed to learn to communicate better in ways that weren't loudly sighing or stirring up a fuss, and just expecting others to catch on to his moods. And it was sometimes a bit hard to resist, John could see why Mycroft often treated him like a child, he could certainly act like one when the mood struck him.

"Oh! I was speaking to your brother recently, you'll never guess what he told me." John was sure to interrupt just as Sherlock opened his mouth to complain again, "He was telling me you wanted to be a pirate as a child. That's quite cute, imagining a little you, mucking about the gardens with your pretend sword- I bet you had fantastic games of make-believe."

Sherlock's mouth had clicked shut with an annoyed look, though he was a bit happier at least that he was being involved with conversation. When it seemed John had no more to say, he opened his mouth only to be cut off again.

"I think you'd make an adorable pirate, and-"

"John I'm bored, let's have sex."

It was John's turn to be interrupted, and his playful smile dropped into a dumb look, though really he shouldn't have been so surprised. When their relationship had first become physical, Sherlock had thrown himself into it with the same energy and excitement he did a serial homicide case.

Everything he did was in pursuit of staving off his boredom, he needed stimulation, both mental and physical. Always searching for new things to distract and busy himself, despite what people might think, being a genius and such, Sherlock was a truly physical creature- ever the hedonist.

"I- well uhm.." John had been caught off guard, he wasn't quite prepared to respond to that, and before he got the chance to, Sherlock had gotten up, using his long legs to cross the distance between them quickly, and straddled his lap.

He held his face with nearly a glare, before kissing him soundly, deepening it quickly as John kissed him back, before pulling back with a bit of a smirk.

John nearly laughed, Sherlock really could be quite childish.

"This isn't the most practical place to have sex. Get up so we can head to a bed, yeah?"

Sherlock in turn, huffed out an annoyed breath, rolling his eyes with a muttered "Beds are boring." but acquiesced, pulling himself up to his feet and catching John's hand all in one smooth motion, tugging him off towards John's bedroom.

As they walked, Sherlock unbuttoned his shirt one-handed, dropping it to the floor in the hall, before working on John's with a sense of impatience.

John had learned early on that Sherlock could be quite pushy. Always impatient.

Following orders as a good soldier should, John shucked his shirt off quickly, before grabbing Sherlock by his belt loops, making him stumble closer into John's arms. The height difference meant he was pressing kisses into Sherlock's collar, since he hadn't been prepared for kissing, but it was a win to catch him off guard like this. He knew Sherlock got a thrill out of being taken by surprise, of being challenged in a way.

Riding that momentum, John took a moment to feel along the hem of Sherlock's pants, popping the button to his trousers slow and deliberate... before meeting his eyes and shoving him backward so he fell to the bed, watching as the sudden rush of movement startled a moan from him, leaving him wide-eyed and a bit flushed.

Smiling, a bit more kind than smug despite the circumstances, John knelt on the bed, crawling forward with a trail of murmured kisses to his skin, maybe a bit more romantically inclined than Sherlock would be willing to put up with right now.

As if on cue, Sherlock grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him up with an impatient grunt, and a cluck of his tongue. "Why the hell are we both still dressed?"

John rolled his eyes, flopping to the side onto his back, and shimmying his own pants and underwear off with no show or appeal, letting them hit the floor as he kicked them aside.

While he'd done this, Sherlock had pulled the rest of his own clothes off, and had sat up to watch John with an expectant look, and with another roll of his eyes John shoved him back down.

"You're such a child." he disapproved, though there wasn't much ire in it. Sensing the likely inappropriate comment about to come his way, he cut Sherlock off with a kiss, one hand tangling into his hair and tightening with a bit of warning for good measure.

This was nice though, just kissing fingers ensnared amongst his curls, mouth moving slow and deliberate, setting a calm and easy pace. Sherlock needed something to feel, something to focus on, but that didn't mean it had to be rushed or frantic.

Finally though, he pulled away, climbing out of bed for a bit to fetch the tub of Vaseline he kept nearby, not quite brave enough to buy lube and face the cashier. Vaseline was one of the many items a doctor always needs on the job, so what if this was what he was using it for?

He opened it, coating his fingers, and setting it aside on the bedside table, before kneeling back onto the bed, tugging Sherlock over by the arm with his free hand, and back into a kiss.

Moving his attentions towards kissing at his neck and shoulders, John held him close like a hug, arms wrapped around his back so he could grasp at his ass, spreading him apart and rubbing insistently against him, spreading the Vaseline around. It was almost like petting him, and John briefly thought about gentling a horse, whispering sweet words as you tried to keep it calm and relaxed. That was a strange thought, working with Sherlock so often was making his brain turn just as rapid and off-kilter as his lover apparently.

Shoving him back a bit into the pillows, John grabbed Sherlock's right thigh firmly, guiding it up and to the side for better access. Sherlock had been quick to wrap one of his own hands around his cock, eyes bright with challenge as he wanked himself and waited for John to open him up.

Taking his cue, John pressed a finger inside, working it in shallow circular movements, requesting muscles to prepare for greater intrusion soon.

Taken by the moment, John surged forward to kiss him again, messy and a bit breathless as the position folded Sherlock up a bit.

It was gangly, trying to kiss him and still comfortably reach where he needed to. Sherlock was not that tall, but he was a bit above average, and John a bit below, and together it sometimes made for a bit of an awkward distance. Like now, when he was hunched up, legs curled to give the room John needed. Pale and thin and folded up like this, John was sure he'd look a bit like a wraith to any observer.

A wraith about to be buggered because he'd been bored and demanding, and his partner loved him.

Again it seemed, Sherlock was making his thoughts quite strange.

Why that thought crossed his mind, or more importantly why it didn't flag his building arousal, was beyond him. Granted, he wasn't fully hard yet anyways, but he was well on his way, and knew he would be by the time he'd gotten Sherlock worked open and ready for him.

He curled his finger up, rubbing insistently at the gland he knew was there, slowly stimulating his prostate and building the heat low in Sherlock's belly.

When he'd felt him sufficiently relaxed and worked up (an oxymoron sure, but a true one) and safely slicked up, John broke the kiss and removed his fingers, reaching again for the Vaseline so he could apply a generous amount to his own cock. He pressed a kiss to the side of his knee as he grabbed it, shuffling in closer.

"Ready then, love?"

Sherlock looked like he might take complaint at the pace of things, almost annoyed that John would stop to ask, but he instead sighed, a tired sound, and nodded his head.

"Yes, yes, quite open, care to take the invitation then?"

Snark. Of course, how Glorious.

Smile fond, John made short work of pressing into him, one slow steady glide, eased by quite a bit of practice and preparation. He worked his hips in soft shallow thrusts, another step of working him open, making sure he was ready and okay.

Sherlock could appreciate the sentiment, and he took a moment to enjoy the subtle friction of it, of John's careful work, and warm looks- of the emotion they represented...

Then he pressed his thighs tight to John's hips, and flipped them with an easy turn, making use of his height advantage and the outbalance of their weight to throw then around.

He was a detective, he had to have some physical discipline for exercise, and self-defense moves were oddly conducive to the bedroom for him.

Besides, John always took pleasure in surprising him, why couldn't he do the same?

He circled his hips, grinding down on John's cock with a swiveled motion, something he had learned from The Woman, though he certainly would not be saying how.

John groaned, grasping his hips and thrusting up. God he was amazing.

Sherlock kept this pace of circling hips and fast bouncing thrusts, his mind and thoughts slowly deteriorating, being replaced with a high akin to any drug or case solved, as he finally, finally got what he needed to alleviate his needs.

John sat up, wrapping an arm about Sherlock's waist, his other hand braced behind him so he wouldn't fall back down, kissing at Sherlock's chest where he could reach him, leaving a flurry of marks in his wake. Sherlock was becoming more and more taken with his pleasure, gripping at John's shoulders and letting strained moans echo off of the flat's walls.

They kept at it, pace quick and steady, until the burn in his thighs became distracting, and he began to slow with a frustrated sound. He liked this speed, but it would be a bother if his leg decided to cramp up.

Sensing the issue, John waited for Sherlock's next uptick, sitting up a bit more so he could grab his hips with both hands, lifting him further until he was no longer seated on his cock, and then shoving him back in a bit of a tumble to the bed.

"Damn it John!" Sherlock looked like he couldn't decide if he should be outraged or more turned on than ever, but this was quickly solved as John grabbed him by the arm, tugging him around until he was braced on his hands and knees. Catching on, Sherlock braced to his forearms on the bed as John mounted him from behind, building back to speed as his body took control, leaving both their minds to work at a later time.

He threaded one hand into the dark curls of his beloved, tanking him up so his back was pressed to John's chest, throat bared. It was a bit of an awkward position at first, with the height difference, and Sherlock had to spread his stance to keep things more evenly settled, but it was worth it for the way John took advantage of all the skin available to him, marking up the crook of his neck, and pressing kisses to the back of his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around his middle, one hand braced to his belly, and the other moving to rest along his collarbone, not quite at his throat, but enough to suggest it, to put the thought into his mind, and racing with the possibility.

It wasn't that Sherlock had a particular need, but he was fascinated by all the things they could do, all the different things he could feel or try, and arousal thrilled through him, thinking of it all.

With his other hand, John let it slide from Sherlock's belly to his cock, gripping it firmly as he rutted into him, stroking him in time to his thrusting as they both rocketed closer to the edge.

It wasn't long before Sherlock came with a nearly startled sound, as if taken by surprise by it.

Sherlock was moaning and lost in pleasure, and while close, John was certain he could hold out a bit more, keep working him through this until the end at least...

That is, until he let out a near whimper, calling out John's name, and he lost it, coming with a breathy groan of his own, body shuddering.

Pulling out, John sat back on his feet, watching as Sherlock dropped down to his hands, arms trembling in a way that suggested he'd be falling further soon.

"Still bored?" he teased, unable to help himself.

Sherlock through a wry look over his shoulder, breath coming in pants. "Not at all. Give me a few minutes though, I may need a repeat performance to keep me occupied."

-END-

well that's all folks, hopefully some of you enjoyed it!

please review if you did!

Note: I'm not really big into the Sherlock Fandom, I watched some of it, it was okay, but I really just wrote this for Ket!