SHERLOCK 🌟SMUTSHORTS🌟

1. Punishment (JOHNLOCK)

Sherlock was doing everything he could to piss off John. Not exactly something the average person would find themselves wanting to do, but he had his reasons. Three weeks ago, when he has accidentally spilled acid all over the kitchen and John had accidentally stepped in a puddle that had landed on the floor, he had said something that peaked Sherlock's interest.

After the cursing, howling, and flailing about that comes after one steps in acid, John looked Sherlock straight in the eye and said, "If you were a child I'd spank you for being so sodding careless." And then, the nerve of him, John just left Sherlock alone to ponder this new visual.

And what a visual it was. Sherlock pictured staring into the eyes of Captain Watson, pants and trousers violently rucked down to his knees. Then wordlessly, John would bend him over his lap. He'd be trembling by now, he was trembling just thinking about it. And when John's steady hand would come crashing down on his bare arse Sherlock would moan.

This imagery had quickly become the sole thought that Sherlock would masturbate to each night. And now he was determined to experience it for real. In the past two weeks he had, caught the kitchen on fire, burned a hole through one of John's favorite jumpers while experimenting on it, broken the bathroom sink, clogged every drain in the flat with clay, and now he was currently working with incredibly odorous chemicals that did more than just burn the hairs out of your nose.

And John was seething. He was nearing his breaking point. There was no going back now. Sherlock let a droplet of an offending chemical slip into his mixture and it exploded in a puff of foul smelling grey green smoke.

John glared at Sherlock and hurried to open the windows despite it being the dead of winter, muttering all the while to show Sherlock just how very pissed off he was.

"What the hell is your bloody problem!" John was steaming mad. Sherlock could imagine smoke billowing out of his ears. And dear lord, it was hot. Angry John was hot.

Sherlock simply shrugged, as if answering John was not extremely high on his list of priorities.

This made John even more infuriated and soon flames joined the smoke billowing out of John's ears.

He's just where you want him, careful... Sherlock cautioned himself.

Sherlock knew he needed to tread carefully. If he was too standoffish, and held his ground when John advanced to berate him, John would become very angry and leave the flat. Perhaps he wouldn’t return for the rest of the weekend, he’d find some mate’s sofa to kip on for a few nights.

So this time, when John stepped into Sherlock's personal space, index finger wagging, Sherlock slowly, very slowly, backed away. The movement was hardly enough to be noticed, but it caused John to unconsciously advance even more. And that was exactly what Sherlock wanted, so he kept backing up, inch by inch. John advanced more. Soon Sherlock's back was pressed against the cold metal of the fridge and John, for lack of better words as Sherlock's brain wasn't firing on all cylinders, was towering over him.

My, my, Watson... When did you become so fucking sexy... Sherlock chided himself for the thought and forced himself to pay attention.

John had his right hand flat against the fridge just above Sherlock's left shoulder and was going on about "This god awful stench", or something along those lines, when he suddenly became very aware of their position. Sherlock had to act quickly before John had a chance to pull away and reached for his jacket.