Intrigue Me | Johnlock Teenlock

9: Distracting

After our events last night, I had forgotten to do any of my coursework and was now behind. I hadn't even started to write and it was due in two weeks. So, I sat at the desk with my laptop and notebook, beginning to type away and add little instructions for later in the week in brackets. Sherlock was in the kitchen working on another experiment for his Chemistry work and had almost completed it. He had been writing as he went along, meaning that he was organised and would finish sooner than me. The dorm was silent apart from the tapping of keys and occasional fizz from my roommate's test tubes. I had a lamp switched on beside me, the moon now illuminated against the completely black sky.

I had written about four pages when Sherlock had finished his experiment and decided to approach me. He read my work over my shoulder, his breath brushing my neck. I ignored this and continued to type, referring to my notes and making sure that it sounded formal.

"John..." he mumbled, voice deep and hardly used.

"Hmm?"

"I've finished..."

"Well done. I've just started."

"I want you..."

"I can't help you right now, sorry." I sighed, feeling slightly guilty.

He let his arms hang around my neck, face pressed against my tensed shoulder blades.

"But, John..."

"Sherlock, I'm working!"

"But I want you..."

"Fine, sit here on my lap." I motioned, tapping my leg. He hummed happily at my reply, sitting on my thigh with his legs between my knees. My left arm snaked around his hips, allowing my hand to reach the keyboard.

However, the words became blurred and out of focus when he buried his head into the crook of my neck and I began to get ticklish.

"Sherlock..." I exhaled, a smirk involuntarily emerging. "Stop..."

Though, he didn't stop. His hand reached upwards, fingers gently combing the back of my head and playing with the ends of my hair. There was no hope. I was completely distracted by the feel of him, my head being thrown back in defeat and my collar feeling awfully tight.

"I need to work..."

"Do it tomorrow." He muttered, planting kisses along my jaw and down to my collarbone, undoing buttons as he went. He was becoming impossible to resist.

"Sherlock, please. Sit still and behave."

"Do. It. Tomorrow."

"What do you want?"

"You. I'm bored. John..." His voice lowered to a whisper guaranteed to distract me from anything. I leaned him against the desk and stood up after saving my work, shaking my head. His plan had worked. I led him by the hand away from my laptop and pressed him against the wall, kissing him gently before it quickly descended into rough, passionate kisses that made him quietly moan and his knees became weaker. I kept his wrists above his head, holding him by the arms and pushing my knee between his thighs. This made him open his mouth wider and I pulled my tongue out to bite down on his bottom lip. His arms tried to pull down but I was too strong against the now limp Sherlock. He finally gave in, closing his eyes tightly as I sucked on his neck and found the spot guaranteed to make him lose all of the thoughts racing around in his head. The composed Sherlock seen by everyone in public was now completely helpless and begging me to release him. I granted him this wish, leaving him holding onto my shirt and desperately trying to kiss my neck.

"Sh-Sherlock..." I whispered, not trusting my voice. My fingers trailed up his back, sending shivers down his spine. He was becoming more needy for my touch, clawing at the fabric hugging my figure with one hand and gripping my chin with the other to keep our lips connected. "Are you... bored, now?"

"Not at all..."