Chapter Text
In the days that followed, there was no further conversation on the subject, and John assumed Sherlock was at a loss.
There was a strain in the air that lingered between them.
John was concerned that he had revealed something too intimate about himself.
Would Sherlock ask him to leave?
And so, he overtly began to look for another flat.
Just in case.
*****
After they had devoured their Thai takeout, John took the leftovers into the kitchen, and Sherlock offered to assist.
The detective shut the fridge door, leaned against it, and announced, “I have a solution.”
John immediately understood what solution Sherlock was referring to, but it took him by surprise because it had been over a month since they last discussed his— sexual issues.
John was trembling as they returned to their usual seating arrangement in the parlor.
It was not uncommon for Sherlock to propose some rather outlandish ideas, which was the one thing that John was most concerned about.
His ideas!
Sherlock crossed his knees and clasped his palms in front of his face as if in prayer.
His usual ‘thinking pose.’
“You have attempted this from the incorrect gender perspective. You did mention that it was a male individual who provided you with that memorable experience of sexual climax, right?”
John sensed his impending doom and merely nodded.
“Then it is evident that only the male member of the human race could possess the answer you require.”
“Oh no. Oh, no, no,” John sprang out of his chair and pointed a finger at Sherlock.
“You are not suggesting that I—that we —.”
He continually pointed his finger back and forth between the two of them, trying his utmost not to accept what Sherlock was implying.
John scrambled up the steps, his footfalls heavy, and the door to his room slammed with a resounding thud.
He was having trouble catching his breath, and he felt lightheaded.
Think about it, John.
Think.
Sherlock might be right.
No — no might about it.
Sherlock is right!
And who better to try this out with than the man he trusted more than anyone else?
But if he was totally on the up and up with himself, he had to admit that to try this with the man he had secretly been obsessing about since they first met — was — difficult.
What would the outcome be?
Would he reveal his feelings?
He had no choice because Sherlock was, if nothing else, relentless in his determination to solve a puzzle.
Even if it was a John puzzle — and might destroy their carefully crafted life.
And, as he looked down at his pants, he saw his cock was signaling its interest in Sherlock’s ‘experiment.’
As he opened the door and began his descent, he sighed, knowing that this would reveal not only the truth about his actual orientation but his physical attraction to Sherlock.
*****
“I knew you'd return,” Sherlock declared with such assurance that John momentarily trembled but regained his composure.
John had to do a double take because the room arrangement was slightly off-kilter.
Sherlock had moved the desk, and against the wall, there was a stack of books.
John knew that somehow Sherlock was going to be the ‘other man’ in this test, and his penis took another jump.
That pile was where John would stand, so their penis height would be the same.
He knew damn well that Sherlock had calculated it down to the inch, and John flushed.
And because Sherlock was Sherlock and had no reason to believe that this plan wouldn’t be successful, he went to the trouble of placing pillows on either side of the tower to cushion John's fall.
John was, if nothing else, both intrigued and terrified.
To add to the absurdity of it all, in front of this assemblage was a pair of white bamboo bathroom towels brought from Sherlock’s bathroom to the parlor to shield the carpet from —.
Leave it to Sherlock to have considered every possible aspect.
*****
“Excuse me, Sherlock, but we are both dressed,” and while he stated the obvious, he was also aware that Sherlock — had begun to remove his pants at that very moment and revealed his dark blue silk briefs.
John was transfixed as he saw Sherlock unbutton his purple shirt and slip it off.
He folded the shirt and his slacks with great care before he laid them on the sofa.
With a questioning look on his face, he turned to confront John.
“Are you going to stand there gawking, or will your outer garments leave you by osmosis?”
“Um, yes. No.”
He had no idea what made him turn his back, but his pants and shirt joined Sherlock’s on the worn sofa.
As he stepped onto the books, he could not look directly at Sherlock because he knew his face was a multicolored mixture of pink and red and would only worsen if he looked into those eyes.
Upon turning around to be face to face, he —and holy shit, there he was!
There — it — was!
Sherlock’s cock!
In plain view!
A deep pink with the curliest pubic hair he'd ever seen!
“Based on my calculations, I am to approach you while you are standing on the books, and our respective genitalia should come into contact, namely tip to tip.”
Upon Sherlock's approach, John's cock leaped into the air, saluted, and promptly commenced to discharge copiously.
They came into contact — tip to tip —, and John inhaled as vibrations violently rocked him.
*****
The truth dawned on him when he became aware that he was lying on the floor with his head resting on the pillows.
“It appears to have worked, Sherlock,” John shook his head groggily and grasped a damp flannel from Sherlock to wipe himself.
He observed the towels were absent from the floor, and he knew that Sherlock had disposed of them in the laundry hamper.
Sherlock was ever the attention-getter and had wrapped himself in his burgundy velvet robe, and it swirled around him as he moved.
It was as if to prove, silently, that he was correct in his deduction.
The proud bastard!
“Of course it did. My calculations are never incorrect.”
He sat down, and his robe hid his body and also the self-satisfaction that came with his being right — again.
“But,” as John stood, holding his head, he slowly grinned, and he turned to Sherlock, suddenly sure of himself.
He had an orgasm!
John recognized the expression that came over a person's face when sexually fulfilled, and Sherlock had it in spades!
“Don’t be such a dick, Sherlock. You enjoyed it as much as I did. Say it!”
John became acutely aware of his bare ass and quickly pulled on his shorts.
Sherlock asserted as he sat, smug in his righteousness, “Considering your newfound knowledge, what kind of action do you intend to pursue?”
John giggled, “I think it would be a good idea if I don’t go out seeking another — tipster.”
“It would be advisable.”
Sherlock's features mellowed, and he spoke in a low, subdued tone, “Furthermore, John, I do possess the necessary capability to do this again within a time frame of one hour and twenty-four minutes.”
“One hour and twenty-four minutes, huh? I think I can manage that.”