221B fic: The heat is on
BBC Sherlock
Rating: 12 (nudity, slash)
221B fic: 221 words, last one starts with B
Spoilers: none
It was definitely John's worst recent experience while stark naked. Why hadn't he been warned that Dutch saunas were mixed, and swimming costumes and towels weren't expected? He was sweaty and miserable, and that group of women who kept looking across at him...
In London, he only sometimes felt short. In Utrecht, all the women towered over him. And so forceful, a race of dairy-fed Amazons. He was sure that middle-aged lady was making comments right now to her neighbour. Probably about repressed, but sex-crazed English dwarfs.
Because, despite it all, he had a hard-on, and it was all due to the bastard sitting curled up on the bench next to him. Sherlock might have sweat trickling down his back, but he was still calmly talking to his two contacts, switching easily between Dutch, English and French. He didn't need John here. Well, he supposed he could bite the men's ankles if they turned nasty, because they were huge as well.
He closed his eyes and tried to think cool, calming thoughts, and then the men were going, and Sherlock's hand arrived on his knee, which did not help...
"I think," Sherlock's voice rumbled in his ear, "we should put some clothes on, and go somewhere more private." As John gaped, he added, smiling: "I've known for months that you're bisexual."
Rating: 12 (nudity, slash)
221B fic: 221 words, last one starts with B
Spoilers: none
It was definitely John's worst recent experience while stark naked. Why hadn't he been warned that Dutch saunas were mixed, and swimming costumes and towels weren't expected? He was sweaty and miserable, and that group of women who kept looking across at him...
In London, he only sometimes felt short. In Utrecht, all the women towered over him. And so forceful, a race of dairy-fed Amazons. He was sure that middle-aged lady was making comments right now to her neighbour. Probably about repressed, but sex-crazed English dwarfs.
Because, despite it all, he had a hard-on, and it was all due to the bastard sitting curled up on the bench next to him. Sherlock might have sweat trickling down his back, but he was still calmly talking to his two contacts, switching easily between Dutch, English and French. He didn't need John here. Well, he supposed he could bite the men's ankles if they turned nasty, because they were huge as well.
He closed his eyes and tried to think cool, calming thoughts, and then the men were going, and Sherlock's hand arrived on his knee, which did not help...
"I think," Sherlock's voice rumbled in his ear, "we should put some clothes on, and go somewhere more private." As John gaped, he added, smiling: "I've known for months that you're bisexual."