Baker Street Boys

44

//SLIGHTLY SMUT//

After their son's birthday party, John gives Sherlock his own special gift.

The Birthday party for Hamish Watson-Holmes had been a complete success. As John cleared away the little blue cups and plates, took down the streamers, folded up the discarded wrapping papers and swept the floor, he marveled at how well Sherlock had handled the whole thing. Filling the flat with half a dozen 5 year olds for two hours was not on Sherlock's "Bucket List" by any means. Yet, he'd kept calm, only going to hide in the bedroom for 10 minutes out of the entire affair. He'd played "Happy Birthday" on the violin and even posed for Mrs. Hudson and her infernal camera.

In appreciation for Sherlock's good behavior, John had volunteered for clean up detail. He'd sent the detective off with a case file and instructions to stay in the bedroom. If he could work on this with no interruptions, the flat would be back to its normal Watson-Holmesian chaos when Sherlock came out for his morning tea. If Hamish slept through the night, the three of them could enjoy a nice Sunday as a family after a Saturday full of entertaining.

Stashing the last of the ice cream in the freezer, John noticed the spray can of Redi-whip topping on the counter. The kids had loved the sound the stuff made when it squirted from the can onto their sundaes. He started to pitch it in the bin, when suddenly he got a better idea. A sly smile crept upon his face as he flipped the can in the air and caught it on it's second revolution. A clean flat was hardly reward enough for the charm his mad genius had shown today. He was deserving of something extra special. Creeping down the hall to the bedroom, he listened at the door. He heard the ruffling of papers, so he knew Sherlock was still awake. He hid the can behind his back and opened the door.

"All done with the clean up already?" the detective asked surprised.

"Well," John grinned, "almost. But I need your help with a small experiment if you have a few minutes"

"Oh?" Sherlock sat up from his leaning position, clearly intrigued.

"I'll need you to lay back down and close your eyes, please"

"Well, then, I'm at your disposal, Doctor Watson. Use me as you will", Sherlock said with a wink. Oh, he was in a good mood.

"You can lose the shirt too"

Sherlock tossed his T-shirt on the floor and laid back flat on the bed with his eyes closed. Then John removed his own Jumper and shirt. Sitting on the edge of the bed, near Sherlock's hip, he leaned down and gently pushed on the can's plastic nozzle. A scratchy, "SQWAUUUF" sound was followed by the deposit of egg sized pile of fluffy looking whipped cream on Sherlock's left nipple.

"What in the bloody hell is that?" Sherlock protested at the chill and the unusual noise

"It's for science, Sherlock, now please remain quiet and still. You don't want to spoil the experiment do you?" John chuckled, trying to stay in character. Sherlock huffed a bit, then John dipped his head down and began to lick the whipped cream off, garnering moans of delight from beneath him.

"I like this experiment, Doctor."

"Oh. I'm glad to hear that. I think we best try the other side, just to be sure, don't you?" John asked in mock seriousness.

"Oh, yes, of course. You'll want to confirm your findings. Two tests are always better than one" Sherlock replied in the same serious tone

"Well, I can already see that the stimulus is starting to produce the desired effect" the doctor said while giving Sherlock's growing erection a little squeeze.

"Doctor!" the detective protested. "Now you've sullied the data and you'll have to start again!"

"Tut, Tut" John muttered. "I suppose you are right" He leaned over to Sherlocks right nipple and "SQWAUUUF" sang the can of Redi whip again.

He paused for a few seconds just watching his husband's chest rise and fall. Admiring the silver now peaking out around the black at his temples. He adored this man. This crazy, terrifying, infuriatingly unpredictable genius. They'd been through so much together in the ten years since they'd first met. They weren't young bucks anymore. Not by a long shot.

They weren't as fast on their feet or as quick in their healing as they had been when the game was new. Though their business was very successful, the number of cases they accepted had dwindled after Hamish was born. John sensed that they'd be packing it in completely before much longer. But tonight was not the time for those thoughts. There was fun to be had and data to be gathered.

He licked off the second pile of whip cream and felt Sherlock shudder beneath his tongue. Taking that as another good result, he slowly pulled down his love's, pyjama bottoms and then gave the nozzle another nudge. This time he painted a stripe from Sherlock's navel down to the base of his cock.

Sherlock began to giggle, silently, trying to stay still. "You are going to give yourself diabetes, Doctor Watson" he said once he'd stifled the laughter.

"No. No worries. My blood sugar is perfectly normal. A small indulgence in a sweet here and there won't hurt me", and with that he started to lick his way down that white creamy stripe. Sherlock peeked through one eye and then laughed out loud. "You look like the Baskerville Hound with rabies, you git!" he said, swinging a pillow at his spouse's ribs.

"Mr. Holmes. Please restrain yourself from conversing with the test administrators! You will jeopardize all my research!" John said while wiggling out of his jeans. Then "SQWAUUUF" growled the can again and Sherlock's erection was covered from stem to stern with whipped cream.

"I look like the Matterhorn!" he shrieked, "what have you done to me, Sir?"

"Do not move, please. This is the most important part of the whole trial. Can you remain still, or must I restrain you?" John said with a wink.

"I'll be good, but please get this stuff off of me. It's cold and sticky and I prefer warm and slippery!"

"As you wish. Though I must say, as guinea pigs go, you do an awful lot of squawking". John started at the tip and began to lick the whip cream off.

"It's dripping, John, please, Hurry!" Sherlock gasped, feeling the melted cream running over his balls and down between his legs.

"Said no man getting a free blow job, ever!" John teased before taking the whole creamy mess into his mouth. Sherlock moaned loudly and thrust up just a bit. He reached out a hand lazily and stroked John's side. They had not done anything fun like this in awhile. They used to make love like rabbits when they'd first discovered each other. But now it seemed they could go for days at a time without more than cuddling in bed together. John smiled to himself and applied a bit more suction and pressure with his tongue. "Ahhhhh" moaned the test subject, "yes, more, please".

John came up with the can and released the last of its contents all over Sherlock's stomach. "Not more of THAT, you idiot!" he cried in disbelief. John chuckled and then resumed his sucking and licking. "Yes. Yes. More of THAT. Right. There. Oh, God, John, Yes!" and John went at him with renewed vigor. Pushing his gag reflex to its limit, he sucked up and slurped and hummed and licked until he heard, "Oh, John, yes, yes, ahhhhh, No, ah, John, Grrrrwuuuuaaaaaaaaaah!" and felt the warmth on his tongue as Sherlock climaxed.

John continued to lick Sherlock's body lovingly until all remnants of the whip cream were gone. Then he got a warm, wet cloth from the bathroom and finished the job properly. After that, he pulled up Sherlock's pyjamas and T-shirt, put the discarded case file on the night stand and kissed the drowsy man on the forehead. Turning out the bedside lamp, he padded down the hallway to the kitchen. Pitching the empty spray can into the bin, he spied a piece of cake he must have missed before. He swiped his finger through the icing then sucked his finger clean with a moan.

"How sweet your life is, John Watson", he chuckled as he turned to put the kettle on, "How very sweet indeed."