John. I'm bored. Come home –SH

I'm at the market. - JW

Boooring. Though buy me a puppy. I have an experiment I need it for. -SH

... I don't think I would do that. Anything else you need? - JW

Ugh. Don't make me say please. You know how much I hate it...condoms. -SH

Beg pardon? – JW

I need condoms, John. For science -SH

Of course you do. Uh, I'll be home soon. - JW

Hurry up. I'm bored -SH

Fine. I'm in a cab now. - JW

Sherlock sat in his chair, head lolling back and fingers tapping irately against his thigh.

Why can't we get a puppy? -SH

I.. I don't think that would be a good idea. You might end up using it for an experiment. God knows what would happen to it then. - JW

That's the only reason I want it John. I have some anesthetics I need tested… Unless you're willing to participate?-SH

I'm not. And neither is an animal. - JW

I need someone to, John! Otherwise, how do I know if it works?! -SH

Oh and are you home yet? -SH

Almost. - JW

We'll discuss this then. - JW

Fine. You better have the condoms -SH

He stood and grabbed his violin, plucking at the strings

John rolled his eyes, grabbing the grocery bags and stepping out of the cab. He made his way into their flat, shutting the door behind him.

"Finally!" Sherlock called, setting the instrument down and spinning to him, dressing gown open. "Did you get them?"

John arched a brow. "I wasn't gone that long, was I?" He asked, shrugging and darting to the kitchen.

"Long enough" He followed his flat mate, leaning over his shoulder as he unpacked the groceries. Sherlock's pale hand darted out and snatched up the packet of condoms before he rounded to the sink to check on the mince that sat on a plate.

John swallowed thickly, and turned to Sherlock as he set a few groceries in the fridge. "What are you up to now?" The army doctor asked quietly, letting curiosity get the best of him.

Sherlock opened a condom and waved a hand at John over his shoulder, mumbling. "I'm testing how resilient the latex is and the force it takes for it to break. It's vital to the case." He nodded and filled the condom with cooked mince before he tied it at the end.

John stared blankly at Sherlock's movements before raising his eyebrows and giving a small nod. "Yeah, of course. Sure." He shut his mouth and turned back to putting away groceries. Leaving out a few purchased items, the ones that belonged in the high cupboard, he walked quietly into the sitting room.

Sherlock sat back in his chair, staring intently at the four mince filled condoms before he took one in hand and licked the head of it. He wrinkled his nose at the taste but sighed and mouthed the head of it, his mouth doing obscene things to it.

John shifted in his armchair. Staring at Sherlock, he didn't bother ask what he was doing. Silently, he sunk back in his chair. He was planning on reading the paper or watching telly, but he couldn't seem to take his eyes off his flat mate.

Sherlock paid no attention, his tongue swirling around the latex and his eyes closed, pulling all of the details on how to do this from the countless videos, diagrams and stories he had read. He sucked harder, determined to make the latex condom break.

John stared, watching his friend closely. "Sherlock…" He began in a whisper, not finishing his sentence. "I-" He started again, but couldn't end his statement. He found himself licking his lips, but only to clench his fist and shake his head in attempt to turn away.

He looked up, eyes half lidded and lips shining as they're wrapped around the base of it. "Mmm?"

John opened his mouth to answer, "Can... Can you not…" He panted. Why the /hell/ was he panting? He mentally smacked himself and shrugged. "Nothing." He turned to the newspaper.

Sherlock cocked a brow, confused and narrowed his eyes for a moment before he shrugged and dismissed John, focusing back on the condom. It was futile. It wouldn't break. With a growl, he sunk his teeth viciously into the mince and spat it onto the plate.

"Damnit!" He cursed. "What am I doing wrong?"

John looked up, biting his lip. "What are you doing?" He asked, furrowing his eyebrows. "Or, trying...to do..?" He asked, setting down the newspaper.

"I've already told you, John" He huffed. "I need to break the condom /without/ biting it...but I can't! Surely, I'll have to research again..." He pulled John's laptop onto his lap and logged on, loading up porn nonchalantly.

John nodded. "Ah, alright... So- Hey! Don't use /my/ laptop." He scolded, standing up to pull it away from him.

"Mine's in the bedroom!" Sherlock frowned, clinging to it and he looked up at John with big eyes.

"So, go get it!" John said, reaching for his laptop. He tried ignoring Sherlock's damn face, but couldn't. He sighed, giving in. "Well go somewhere else and watch porn. I'm trying to read the news…"

"Am I distracting you, John?" He smirked triumphantly, turning the sound on low just to annoy him.

John glared. "No, shut up." He muttered, turning back to the newspaper. "Go in your room. Anywhere but here..." He ordered.

"But I'm comfortable!" He wriggled his bare toes into the carpet and pressed play on the video, staring intently, nose pressed almost to the screen.

John felt a growl rise in his throat, but he just sighed. "I don't care." He denied, and shooed his friend away.

"Obviously" He said sarcastically. "Now shush..." The porn was not light porn but Sherlock watched it with disgust, tapping his foot impatiently. "But I was doing that!" He yelled at the screen.

John mumbled something undecipherable. He bit his lip and stared at Sherlock carefully, slightly confused. "You know, I-" He started up again, but shook his head and kicked his feet up on the table.

Sherlock sighed and paused the video, turning to John with an exasperated expression cast over his face. "What is it, John?"

John swallowed thickly and looked back at Sherlock. "I, uh, I could always...No, never mind." He stammered.

He cocked a brow, curious as to why John was stuttering and leant forward. "You could always what John?" He looked the smaller man over, noticing the blush that crept across John's cheeks.

John looked down and shook his head, "No, nothing." He insisted and tried to hide his

face from Sherlock. But the detective had probably already noticed how his face was flushed.

"John." Sherlock frowned deeply. He looked over him again and pursed his lips. "John, will you help me with something? It seems I need a new perspective..." He had a theory, of course he did but he needed to test it out now.

John nodded immediately. "Yes, of course I will." He blurted out, and looked up from his hands. "What is it?" He asked quickly, a small grin plastered on his face.

He smirked a bit at his reaction and grabbed a second mince filled condom. "Am I doing it wrong? Is it more effective to suck it like this..." He sheathed the whole thing with his mouth, bobbing his head, "Or is there a better way?"

John shifted in his seat and eyed his friend quietly. "Uh..." He began. "It's...Um, I don't know." He shut his mouth that was agape and narrowed his eyes. "I mean..." He mumbled, balling a fist.

Sherlock raised a curious eyebrow, letting the latex covered member dangling from his fingers. He eyed his flat mate for a long, silent moment, John's eyes diverted from Sherlock's, trained on the ground before the consulting detective thrust the condom at the other man.

John shrieked and it flopped obscenely to the floor. He closed his eyes and shook his head, wiping his palms on his trousers. He picked the phallic object up, swallowing dryly as he held it, the weight heavy and pleasant in his hands. He couldn't help but wonder if Sherlock would feel like if he held him; he pushed the thought away, almost chanting 'I don't think of him like that, I don't think of Sherlock like that.'

Sherlock eyed him, fingers pointed under his chin. "John, will you show me?" He made a wave at the mince. Interesting. John was clearly embarrassed by the whole situation, judging by the blush covering his body. "It's not as if you've never done it." He stated offhandedly, despite the John repeatedly stating that he wasn't 'Gay', which was true enough. He was Bisexual, which Sherlock had noticed mere hours after their meeting, and with which he was completely fine, but he liked John too much to tell him that.

John swallowed a nervous lump in his throat and shook his head. "Uh, no I won't. Just….watch it or something." He stood and snatched his laptop off Sherlock, dumping the meat filled condom back into his flat mate's lap. "And wait, what do you mean I've never done it before?! I'm not gay!" He protested.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Well no of course not! But when you were in the army, you had several occasions on which you engaged in homosexual activities. I saw several things on your email that I've had to further delete from my mind."

John blushed brighter as he clenched his fists by his sides. "I'm not going there Sherlock. Look, go suck your own…" He looked at the mince with distaste, "…experiment by yourself. Work it out." John didn't move and Sherlock stood slowly, eyeing the Doctor suspiciously.

"I turn you on, don't I?" He asked, tone flat. He watched his friend close his eyes to take a deep, frustrated breath. It wasn't admittance but it wasn't a denial and Sherlock's eyes widened. "John, I informed you of this when we first met. I'm married to my—"

"Work!" John cut off, eyes opening. "Yes, I know Sherlock. And that's fine. It's all fine. But not everyone's able to hold down their damn libidos when they haven't shagged for months because they've been running after their insatiably hot flat mate!"

There was silence; thick, unwanted and irritable silence that almost deafened John. He almost forgot what noise sounded like as Sherlock stared at him. Seconds, minutes, and what seemed like hours passed before the Detective spoke.

"John."

"Sherlock, just don't alright? I know you're not interested in sex and all that. I get it. Forget I even said anything. Delete it from that 'Mind Palace' of yours."

"John, stop." Sherlock's hand shot out and grabbed hold of his friend's arm. John didn't realize he'd been pacing until he halted to a stop, chest heaving with frustrated breaths. Sherlock dropped his hand and swallowed. "You're right. Sex doesn't interest me. With all those noises and fluids…" He shivered. "But my point is, you're my only friend. And I need you at the best of your game when we're solving cases. When you're…libidinous, your skill is far less useful then when you're sexually satisfied. And I know what you have needs, and despite all your troubles, they involve me." Sherlock swallowed, eyes locking on John's. "I am willing to do what I need for you to be able to work in prime condition again."

John blinked. Mrs Hudson's clock chimed from somewhere downstairs. He blinked again. A siren wailed a few streets away and that irritating silence was back between them, thicker and heavier than ever.

"You're…sorry, what are you saying?"

Sherlock sighed exasperatedly. "I will suck your penis if that helps you feel less aroused and if I get to test my experiment at the same time."

John shook his head, muttering to himself. "Oh god, what am I doing?" He looked up, trying to ignore that he should not find the blasé way Sherlock said that, arousing and spoke louder. "Sherlock, don't be…"

His eyes bulged. Sherlock was already on his knees, hands behind his back as he shuffled towards him. His lip was caught between his teeth and he smiled up at John.

"I assume you like this position, hm? You like to be in charge, don't you John? Control…is a drug of its own." He was putting it on, they both knew that but they also both knew that he was right. It turned John on past belief. It was as if he was submitting to him. It was also shared knowledge that John needed this. He hadn't sustained a girlfriend in the last few months for more than one date and so it had been far too long since he'd gotten off without the use of his hand.

John wanted to protest but his eyes rolled back in his head as Sherlock's mouth wrapped around the shape of his semi-erection through his trousers and every logical thought as to why this might be a really terrible idea, vanished from his lust addled brain. Sherlock's mouth was truly marvelous. His lips massaged the hard length concealed by the cotton as his teeth latched onto the fly of the trousers, yanking it down.

John could do nothing but grip Sherlock's head as his erection was freed and Sherlock's warm mouth worked down his cock, tongue and teeth combining in the absolute perfect pleasure; so much so that he wasn't sure he could last. As he neared this brink, Sherlock pulled off, leaving John with the feeling that he almost had one foot over the edge of a cliff, ready to step off. His heart raced and his cock gleamed with saliva, straining up towards his belly.

Sherlock reached over for the box of condoms. He tore one open and quickly rolled it over John's erection, mouth sheathing him again, nose buried against John's pelvis. The doctor cried out, fingers finding his friend's hair and tugging, forcing himself just that little bit deeper into Sherlock's throat. He looked down at him, panting, the other man's eyes glazed over, darting from side to side and John knew he wasn't paying attention to anything more than the strength of the latex but somehow he didn't seem to care.

It wasn't long before John had that feeling again but this time he knew he was taking that step off the edge and his fingers tightened around the dark locks, thrusting forward. Sherlock increased the pressure of his mouth, tonguing the head of it through the latex and as he clung to John's hips and the doctor cried out in silent ecstasy, the protection broke and salty liquid flooded Sherlock's mouth. He let out a muffled cry of 'Yes!' as he started to pull off, a string of pearly white cum dangle from his lip to John's twitching prick.

"I did it!" Sherlock exclaimed, swallowing without a thought. He backhanded his lips and then wiped the dirty hand on John's trousers that lay abandoned beside him. John slowly slid to the floor, panting heavily and eyes closed tight.

Sherlock grinned and slowly stripped the ruined condom, dumping it in the bin and pulled John's trousers back up his legs. He cleaned up and then sat, staring at John from his chair as the other returned from the heights of pleasure.

"Thanks," John said eventually, clearing his throat. Eyelids fluttered open lazily and a tongue darted out to wet his lips.

"And to you too, John. You helped me prove a woman innocent of murder." A great smile crossed Sherlock's smug face, proud of himself as he sent a quick text to Lestrade.

They were silent again for a long while as John stood, stripped and leant against the wall of the shower for almost an hour, hot water washing over his strong body.

When he finally emerged, Sherlock sat typing on his laptop, barely looking up when he entered. John's chair looked mighty inviting, the Doctor thought as he flopped into it and lay back, eyes closed, enjoying the silence and calm of their situation.

"So is this going to be a reoccurring thing?" He asked finally.

"If you so desire," Was the reply, blue eyes never leaving the laptop screen.

"What about you though? Do you not desire?"

Sherlock cocked a brow and looked up for a moment. "Do you wish me to?" He questioned, fingers halting.

John shrugged, rubbing his hands on the dressing gown he wore. "Well, I don't know. I mean, I think that's pretty clear to you and me but I think it'd be good for the both of us."

"What exactly will I benefit from this arrangement?"

There was a moment of silence as John mulled that over. "Peace from that massive intellect of yours? It's healthier than your nicotine patches or any other…substances you take."

Sherlock's lips twitched and went back to his laptop. "I don't do relationships John."

John nodded, watching afternoon light dance elegantly across his skin, chasing Sherlock's bare fee. "I know that. I'm not asking for a relationship. It would just be mutually beneficial. And….perhaps you can think of it as an experiment?"

Sherlock hummed, saved whatever he was doing and then closed the computer.

"Alright."

"alright?"

Sherlock nodded.

"Alright!" John said, blinking. "Good."

That was the end of the conversation as the Detective stood and bustled around the flat. They both got on with what they needed to, both shared take out and both slept in their separate beds that night. Nothing much had changed between them. Nothing would. There were things that Sherlock did that still pissed John off, and the same was reversed. They still bantered, they still solved cases and John still went off on Dates with women, despite never actually getting into bed with them.

And despite all of this, he knew he wouldn't have it any other way.