John stared at Sherlock, flabbergasted. His flatmate (with benefits apparently if the last few weeks were to show for anything) was lounging casually in the bloody Buckingham Palace in nothing but the sheet from his bed. It was bad enough that John had had to bribe him to at least put the damn sheet on in the first place, but this...
Taking a seat next to Sherlock on the sofa he shook his head, pursing his lips before he spoke. "Are you wearing any pants?"
John tried to seem casual about the question, but the thought that Sherlock was stark naked beneath the sheet was ridiculously arousing.
"No." Sherlock deadpanned, before shifting his eyes to John. "We have ten minutes."
"What?" Johns brow furrowed. He didn't even know why they were here, what did time have to do with anything.
"The Yard, the Morgue, and the stairs to our flat, if that particular endeavor counts... Buckingham Palace would make a nice addition to our list don't you think."
Sherlock was still speaking as if this was not an absolutely insane idea. John's eyes widened in shock, but his tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip.
"You can not be serious." he half groaned, but his pants grew tight just at the thought.
"Of course I'm serious," Sherlock reasoned, "I'm always serious. It's not like an opportunity like this will arise again. And besides, I'm already dressed for the occasion." He shot John a teasing grin. "Nine minutes dear Watson. If we're going to do this you'd better get on with it."
He let his legs widen a bit, no longer keeping a tight hold on the sheet covering him so it almost fell open.
"You want me to... Here?" John almost gasped, his eyes cutting to the obvious tent in the fabric.
"Obviously" Sherlock drawled, letting his head fall back on the sofa, seemingly exasperated. "You didn't think I actually wanted you to bend me over the Queen's sofa did you? Plus, no clean up." He shrugged as if that was all the explanation needed.
John worried his bottom lip between his teeth, he couldn't believe he was actually considering this. There were sure to be cameras in here, cameras Mycroft would have access to no less.
"Eight minutes John."
Sherlock broke through his thoughts, his eyebrows were raised, daring John to make a move. There was no doubt in John's mind that they honestly had exactly eight minutes until they would be interrupted, so before he could talk himself out of it John slipped off his coat and fell to the floor between Sherlock knees.
"You're insatiable, you do realize that right?" John asked, ghosting his fingertips up the inside of Sherlock's thighs.
"This is about conquest John," Sherlock explained, his breath catching in his throat as John's hands slipped beneath the sheet, caressing the sensitive skin around his balls.
"Mmhmm," John chuckled, pulling the sheet out of the way to reveal Sherlock's swollen member. "Sure it is."
Sherlock watched John intently as his blogger leaned forward, licking a stripe up his cock before taking him fully. They had no time to waste, John didn't want to think what would happen if they were caught like this. John felt a hand carding through his hair and he hummed softly against Sherlock's member, giving him the permission he was asking for.
Gripping John's hair lightly Sherlock began to set the pace for them. John relaxed his jaw, allowing his mouth to be thoroughly fucked by the detective. Glancing up he could see that Sherlock had his other arm thrown across his face, biting into it to stop himself from outwardly moaning. There was a flush creeping up his chest where the sheet had fell away and his breath was coming out in desperate heaves.
John's hand found hold on the detectives hip, pulling him in deeper as he swallowed, moaning softly so that the sound vibrated along his partners member. Sherlock gasped loudly, whispering John's name as his hand fell from the blondes head. A moment later he was gripping the sheet in both hands as his body tensed, silently coming down John's eager throat.
John swallowed around Sherlock's softening member once more before pulling away. Wiping his mouth with one hand and sitting back on his heels he grinned up at Sherlock. The man looked utterly debauched. He pulled the blanket back around Sherlock before sitting back on next to him on the sofa, adjusting himself as he stood.
They sat in silence for a moment before Sherlock spoke. "Three minutes to spare. I'll have to do a study on arousal rates in public places. Without a doubt that was the most efficient blowjob to date."
The brunette's tone made it quite clear that he was very serious, even his curiosity was insatiable. John just shook his head.
"What are we doing here? Sherlock, no, seriously. What?"
"I don't know..." Sherlock said nonchalantly, his mind was obviously still hazed over from the post-orgasmic bliss.
"Here to see the queen?" John offered.
At that moment Mycroft appeared, a minute early by Sherlock's calculations, but if the detective noticed he didn't seem bothered.
"Oh! Apparently yes."
The two men fell into a fit of laughter. Mycroft glared at the both of them in turn. John had a feeling that it was dreadfully apparent to the elder Holmes just what they had been up to, but he couldn't find himself to care.
"Just once," Mycroft spat, "Can you two behave like grown-ups?"
Shaking his head, still choking down laughter John responded, "We solve crimes, I blog about it and he forgets his pants. I wouldn't hold out too much hope."