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"You like that, don't you?"
"Mmmm, yes."
"Makes you hard. And gasping for it?"
"Oh, god, John, yes!"
"Are these the knickers your Mummy laid out for you on the bed this morning?"
"WHAT THE FUCK, JOHN? Why do you have to bring Mummy into this? Forget it. Game over. I've lost my erection. Thanks. I'll be working on the footprint comparison in the Cotter case."
"OH, COME ON, SHERLOCK! It's not like when I called you a dirty whore or a jizz jar waiting to be overflowed or compared your arsehole to a cum bucket. I know now that's TOO 'recherché' for your liking"
"Yes, John. The 'recherché dig was subtle. Also, thank you for bringing up THOSE delightful memories of our past sexual congress. I would expect any chance of me wanting you sexually to happen within, say, after three months from today. Keep talking, let's see if we can extend it, shall we?"
John gripes under his breath as Sherlock furiously belts his dressing gown. "My god. Who knew the man who leaps in the air over grisly murders was such a fragile flower?"
"What's that? What's that you just mumbled, John?"
"Nothing. Forget it."
"Nothing?! I distinctly heard something. What was it? Come now, a brave, valiant soldier of God and country surely can not be afraid of repeating what he passive aggressively muttered."
"Do you have to be such a...? Fine! I said, "My god. Who knew the man who leaps in the air over grisly murders was such a fragile flower?" Is that better? Do you feel happier knowing what I said? Shall I trepan my skull so you could read my every thought now?"
"John, you should know by now I don't enjoy reading light fiction."
"Good one."
"You are the one always going on about what a cold, calculating machine I am. I'd think you be overjoyed by my very human reaction to your bizarre, inappropriate approximation of sex talk. Dragging my mum into our sex life. 'The knickers your Mummy laid out for you on the bed this morning.' What in blazes does that even MEAN?!?"
"I DON'T KNOW! You try having a partner who gets off on filth whispered in his ear, practically demands it but has such stringent rules concerning content! It's not easy to do, keep all the 'Do and Don't' straight in my head, holding you in my arms, looking into your wild eyes, smelling the waves of desire surging off you! I'm not the brilliant one, able to think coherently when you've got me so hard I'm about to combust!"
Sherlock stops at doorway. Waits a beat or two. Turns around, half smile tugging at his Clara Bow lips "Want to just…" Cringe. "...cuddle a bit?"
John, acting slightly mollified but secretly relieved "I guess we could."
Both return to the bed, Sherlock yanking at his too dramatically tied dressing robe sash.
"'Knickers MY Mummy laid out for ME! Really, John, what was going through your head?"
"Sherlock! Let it go! It WAS kind of...odd, wasn't it?"
"Very."
"So are you. Gimme a kiss."
