Here There Be CATS

The slowly darkening evening found John Watson on the sofa, a lap top sitting on his thighs and his mind in disarray. John had wound himself into trouble, knowing exactly what kind of trouble it would be, and being a courageous man, he'd taken his chances.



The evening could also find, if it looked hard enough, the world's only consulting detective, getting out of the shower and drying himself off enough to get into his pyjama pants without having them clutched to his skin, then heading himself towards the sitting room. 



The door opened. 



In a western movie there would have been a ball of hay crossing the scenery with whistling wind in the back round, but this was no movie. This was happening right here, and both the men involved would have to face the consequences of their actions.



The two men gave each other looks that promised destruction and doom, and pressured by the unuttered threats, were soon busily distracting themselves with other affairs. Were they in the western movie, there would certainly have been sound effects of handguns being cocked off.

Sherlock seated himself in front of the desk placed against the wall, leaving the sofa in the room behind him, and started his laptop with rigid, angular movements. 



The screen flashed, allowing electronic light to the dimly lit room. 



Sherlock clicked to open the front page of a stock exchange-page and focused on the recent happenings since his last visit to the page.

His focus was interfered when an instant messenger client window popped up on the right side of the screen shearing an informative notice:

"TheDoctor Says:

"You still not talkin to me?" 

And the window sank back to the bar it came from.

Sherlock let the messenger window blink, deliberately making it noticed that he had absolutely no intention to reply. He could feel the stare on his back as John tried to mind-wrestle him to answering.

The hands of undisturbed time twitched from a second to another without bringing any change to the suppressing atmosphere in the room.

With a laborious sigh Sherlock finally caved in and opened the messenger to type.



"deducerwithans Says:

No"



"TheDoctor Says:

Cmon Sherlock, talk to me. You can't stay quiet for the rest of your life."



"deducerwithans Says:

Mebbe I can't mebbe I can"



"TheDoctor Says:

Turn around"



"deducerwithans Says:

No"



"deducerwithans Says:

…???"



"TheDoctor Says:

Just turn"



"deducerwithans Says:

No I won't. Tell me why or bugger off n stop grinding your teeth I can hear you"



"deducerwithans Says:

The harrumphing John does you no good either. Will Not Turn. Or talk. So there"



"TheDoctor Says:

You r so talkin to me atm"



"deducerwithans Says:

Am not"



"TheDoctor Says:

U r"



"deducerwithans Says:

Am not. Am typing. W/ my fingers. That's not talking

… U thief.



"TheDoctor Says:

I r sorry…4give k? :)



"deducerwithans Says:

*sulks*



"TheDoctor Says:

I can c that"



"TheDoctor Says:

*kisses your neck gently*

4give?"



"deducerwithans Says:

:) …but no"



"TheDoctor Says:

*slides his hands down to your chest and kisses your neck more*

4GIVE?"



"TheDoctor Says:

Sry caps"



"deducerwithans Says:

*grin* …but no. yer ev0l.



"TheDoctor Says:

*licks your ear and teases your nipple* ;)

I know I'm evil. Still, 4give?



"deducerwithans Says:

… "

"TheDoctor Says:

*bites your earlobe and brings other hand to your cock*



"deducerwithans Says:

I put on my robe and my wizard hat"



"TheDoctor Says:

…Sherlock…



"deducerwithans Says:

…not only are you a bloody thief and a scoundrel but you're a tease too..."



"TheDoctor Says:

Why, thank you. I did learn from the best :P



"deducerwithans Says:

Flattery will take you nowhere. 



"TheDoctor Says:

I'm right behind u, u know…and you know what you can do about that…

*licks your ear and blows in in gently*



"deducerwithans Says:

Damn u John. A man can't even mope in peace these days without sum hot stud trying to arouse him out of it. 



"TheDoctor Says:

*traces kisses along your jaw from your ear to your lips*

Come here Sherlock.



"deducerwithans Says:

I'm not sure if I'm convinced of your sincerity yet. U could be just luring me into sum trap to do more thiving.



"deducerwithans Says:

*thieving"



"TheDoctor Says:

I swear, two fingers on or in what or where ever: no tricks. Honest.



"deducerwithans Says: 

You mean u don't have any arrière pensée, what with all this distinctively noticeable inveigling happening here ^^"



"TheDoctor Says:

No, Sherlock, I don't have an ulterior motive, I can assure you. 



"deducerwithans Says:

No? …a shame really…was kinda looking 4ward 2 the full body search :D"



"Sherlock!"



A pillow hit the back of Sherlock's head with a soft thud and ended up landing on the keyboard. 

Sherlock grinned and turned to face John on the sofa.

"Ow! Easy, dear, human in between!"



His words were closer to laughter than any other form of communication.



John hit the 'Enter' button on the keyboard and rapidly pulled a shocked face barely managing to stow the giggle that was forcing it's way up for his victorious triumph.

"Where?" 



Sherlock grabbed the offending object from the keyboard and stood up, holding the pillow in front of him like a shield.

He approached the sofa while John was trying to locate something, squinting his eyes and turning his head frantically.

"Seriously Sherlock, where's the human? Where'd he go?" He couldn't hold the mirth back anymore with Sherlock closing in on the sofa, creating a tensed, playful, anticipation.

Sherlock climbed to the sofa, kneeling and holding the pillow with both hands. 



"Humans? There are no humans here! Here there be…" He stopped to look up and around him as if to find the word he was looking for and then continued, stunned at the find. "Cats. Yes…Here there be CATS!" 



Sherlock threw the pillow away and raised his hands, tensing his fingers in to claw-like manner,. 

"Resistance is futile. All your base are belong to us," he announced thunderously.



John's reflexes were the only thing that saved the lap top from its untimely destruction as he shoved the computer to the coffee table with haste, before a fearsome, apparently alien, entity lunged its extensions on him and started to tickle him towards chuckling insanity.



"Hehehee…Sherlock! Stop it!" John was rolling from side to side, reduced to a pile of whimper between snickering, trying to grab the nimble hands of torture, failing miserably as Sherlock laid half on top of him and was effectively using his upper body to block John's arms.



The catchy sound of John's tehee made Sherlock chuckle, wiping away every trace of the menace he intended to have to his voice and ended up with a less threatening rendering of his issues with John.

"Feel like taking the last bit of chocolate without telling me, huh? How's that for a lesson, hmm?"



"No! Yes! hehehee. What ever you say Sherlock, oww, just stop, Sherlock, please!



Sherlock pushed John on his back and swiftly sought to grab his wrists and press them on either side of John's head. Sidling to lay on top of the man's heaving chest, he bit his lip to concentrate on getting a miserable expression on his face. 



Having their noses almost brushing each other, he stared into John's eyes and put in all the thespianism he could muster under the circumstances. "John, how could you do that to me? You're supposed to love me, not try to destroy me." 



He ended his lines with a quivering lower lip and a pained sigh. 



John smiled and would have applauded if his hands were free to do so. "Oh, wow! You going for an Oscar or what?"



Sherlock flashed a lopsided grin and bowed his head curtly in thanks for the recognition.



"Nah, I already have a golden man. Pure gold, I might add." He looked at John to make sure the pun was well delivered, and felt a happy little tug in his chest from the smile he got in return.



He lowered his head to align his mouth with John's ear and whispered as if he was shearing a great secret. "Besides, I think that poor bloke is a eunuch …"

John turned his head and pushed his nose into Sherlock's hair to push it out of the way before nipping on his ear.



"Hey!" Sherlock bobbed his head up with a surprised smile. "You're trying to distract me, aren't you? Well this subject is not yet finished, mind you. You, you…thief."



"Sherlock. It was only one liquor confection. Just…spank me twice and be done with it, that should cover it."



"Only one, you say?" 



Sherlock shook his head slowly, frowning. "Do I have to remind you that it was the last one. I had been saving it. It was filled with bourbon. The last one, filled with bourbon and it was in …my …pocket."



"Thrice?"



John tried to plead with Sherlock with huge puppy dog eyes.



"Oh, no no no, that isn't even close to covering my loss. What about my misery when I have a desperate craving for it and am once again reminded of this gruesome faith?"



"By then you have probably just bought more. I fail to see the point."



"The point, my dear John, is that it is the middle of the night, and as per usual at such time, there's nothing that would miraculously produce any sorts of goods, thus making it impossible for any kinds of confections being in my good self's grasp when the moment of ravenous hunger arrives." 



Sherlock carefully draped himself on top of his companion again, sashayed his form to comfortably fit the one under him, propped himself up to one elbow with a grimace, adjusted his partly erect cock and leaned back down with as much care as before, poking his nose against John's, staring him straight in one eye, then the other before raising his head enough to deliver the hard stare into both eyes simultaneously. "Do you follow?"



Busy with biting the inside of his cheek in hopes to withhold from burst of absolute hilarity, John just nodded in understanding. 



Sherlock took pity on John and changed his tone accordingly. "You know how I get when I don't get what I want. I can't believe you brought this upon yourself." 



Waving his hand in front of John's face, his fingers once again turned to claw-like manner, crunching his brow to a deep frown , Sherlock snarled in his very CATS- like tone, "You are on the way to destruction."



John was desperately focusing on the tips of Sherlock's fingers now in order to rid his mind from anything but keeping his face atleast somewhat stoic. He'd seen great performances from Sherlock before, and this was definitely amongst them. 



Trying to shake his lover from the ongoing desperation for chocolate, John continued with the CATS-theme, hoping his tone was in the lines of the statement it was meant to be, at least more than the amusement he couldn't help feeling.

"What you say!!"



Sherlock took on with the dialogue and shook his head in feigned sorrow for the tragic demise that now had to be forced upon his dear John.

"You have no chance to survive make your time." 



Luckily it made perfect sense to John who announced cheerily, "Actually, I'm rather waiting for the ramifications of my actions."



John looked into Sherlock's eyes pointedly with a hint of a smile in the corner of his mouth, not really having enough time to spread into the bright grin it was meant to be before being swiped away with a forceful, demanding and needy kiss. 



"Now that would be doing you a favour Dr. Watson, and under the circumstances, I'm more than less than disinclined to do such things, than…" Sherlock grinned and looked for the next word around the room before continuing "… not." 



The circumstances, the prolonged, unfulfilled proximity of the man he loved, and the distinctive scent of him were making it hard for Sherlock to concentrate on something as inane as making sense.



"Now you're just being plain cruel Sherlock."



"Cruel, as I recall a wise man saying somewhere in the history, is a matter of perspective." His feature brightening with the suddenly occurring idea, Sherlock brought a hand on John's chest and pushed himself to sit upright.

"Ah, I know. You can have some of your own medicine." 



When John reached his hand up to bring the man with the gleaming eyes back for another kiss, Sherlock grabbed his wrists and pushed them down on the sofa, patting, then stroking the hands gently as if affirming they would stay there.

"You get to see what it feels like to want something you can't have…"



John bit his lip briefly through an appreciative grin while he watched Sherlock get off the sofa and promptly rid himself of the pyjama pants.  



The pleasant warmth John felt on his face from being aroused turned up a notch when Sherlock climbed back to straddle John's thighs, which we're unfortunately and uncomfortably still fully covered with his own pants. The way Sherlock didn't lean over John to kiss him like John had expected, and instead held John's hands, let go for a brief second to brush something from under his knee to get comfortably positioned, and locked his fingers around John's wrist again firmly, "I know that look John…"

The grin on Sherlock's face was predatory to say the least. 



"What look?"



Sherlock brought John's hands on his waist and placed his own hands over them, moving them down to the curve of Sherlock's arse and over to his thighs, eyes locked with John's in a way that forced John to close his for a moment and swallow hard. John slid his hands upwards on Sherlock's thighs to caress the hipbones with his thumbs, leaving Sherlock's hands on his wrists again. 



"That look that says that I am the only thing in this world you could possibly want right now."



John couldn't help noticing the twitch of Sherlock's erection as the thought formed into words and he could hardly not notice his own member responding to the notion neither, after all Sherlock was right.



Smiling as innocently as he could possibly manage, John tried to grab nonchalance.

"Oh, that look."



Almost as if moving to their own accord, John's hands started rubbing slow, gentle circles on the sides of Sherlock's thighs, over his hips, fitting his palms perfectly over Sherlock's hipbones and extending his thumbs to smooth the wiry hair under Sherlock's navel.



"Unfortunately," Sherlock clamped his fingers over the wrists again, pushing John's hands to grab him harder and then reluctantly pulled them away from their touch, determined to go through his hastily thrown together plan. 



In all honesty, having the luxury of seeing John Watson gripping the cushions in order to restrain himself, was more than enough consolation for a lost bit of chocolate. The gleam in John's eyes told Sherlock that he was not supposed to say that out loud though, no matter how much the words wanted to escape him to give the tension the final touch that would break the dam and have John take what he wanted. Even if the thought sounded good and sound in principle, doing so would belay everything Sherlock was doing this for in the first place. A lesson would hardly be a lesson if nothing was learned, and wouldn't that just be a bloody shame?



"John Watson, do you, on this day, solemnly swear you have learned your lesson and will never do anything resembling to your previous mischief again?"



"Cross my heart and hope to die?"



Sherlock looked down to John, flashing a crooked smile indicating nothing shy of admiration.



Suddenly a high toned wheezing sound infiltrated the air, causing both the languishing men cringe at the noise.



"That laptop definitely needs to be repaired."





Sherlock got up to shut down the laptop. Before clicking the messenger window closed, his eyes caught a short line that wasn't there before.



"TheDoctor Says:



I <3 You 



With a delighted hum, Sherlock clicked the window closed and made the functions to close the computer properly.



He turned around to return to John, but stopped on his tracks at the sight displayed there.



John was holding a piece of chocolate wrapped in silver and green paper in front of him and grinning widely.



"It's really your fault it's squished now, you know."