Writing is perhaps the greatest of human inventions, binding together people, citizens of distant epochs, who never knew one another. Books break the shackles of time ― proof that humans can work magic.
A very random amalgamation of all the things I love.


Sitting down at his desk, Sherlock pulled the sheet tighter around himself. He was conflicted, equal measures of curiosity and guilt fought for dominance and of course curiosity won. He lifted the lid of his laptop, a thrill of excitement flashing though his body for a split second as John’s half sleeping, half waking image appeared on the screen.

Installing the camera had been easy, just a tiny hole in John’s bedroom ceiling, it really didn’t show up among all the cracks and John wasn’t the most observant fellow after all. It had taken him less than ten minutes to set it up and now the very next morning he could observe John all he wanted. And he very much wanted to watch. Sherlock knew, in a way, that it was wrong but John had endured so much worse at his hands and he hoped that this little indiscretion would prove beneficial to both of them.

Sherlock sat back, his fingers smoothing over his lips as he watched John begin to wake. At first it was just miniature movements, a twitch here, a frown there, then slowly, despite his eyes remaining closed, John came to full wakefulness. He licked his lips and Sherlock’s breath caught for a moment. He snaked a hand down under the sheets and Sherlock held his breath.

John was touching himself and Sherlock’s temperature was rising. He realised he was holding his breath and let it out slowly, shakily, his own hand moving down, under his sheet. He watched as John became more aroused, his movements slowly picking up speed and pressure. Oh god he so wished he see under those bed covers and briefly wondered if he get hold of some kind of x-ray or heat imaging camera.

The microphone was starting to pick up small sounds, John’s breath, his slight moans, he was obviously trying to be quiet, knowing Sherlock was in the flat. But those sounds were doing strange things to Sherlock, he was a little shocked by his own heart rate. For the first time in many years Sherlock stroked his growing erection, lightly at first, surprised at himself but soon growing in pressure as the heavy flesh grew and tightened in his hand.

John squirmed, constricted by the bed covers, Sherlock watched as he frowned again and struggled to push the bed clothes down. A gasp escaped past Sherlock’s lips then and his eyes widened as John started to push down those strangely alluring red pants, he seemed so keen on.

John’s fist tightened on his oh so very erect cock, adding a wicked little twist to the upstroke, Sherlock copied his movements exactly, a strangled moan rumbled up out of him. He continued to match all of John’s movements even though he was finding his body’s responses a little alarming. His temperature was still climbing and he could feel his heart hammering against his ribcage, his breathing labored despite his reclined position and most of all there was sharp build up of pressure at the base of his spine. Of course he knew what this meant but after a decade or more the feeling was almost brand new. He was teetering on the edge of orgasm and he knew none of this would be happening for anyone but John.

John was licking his lips again, biting down on the bottom one and this little, insignificant thing sent Sherlock careering over that edge. His body shuddered, every muscle taut and held tight as his cock pulsed in his hand. He may have cried out but he couldn’t be sure as his blood pounded in his ears and his eyes screwed tightly shut for a few moments, he may have said John’s name.

He opened his eyes again, focusing on the screen before him. John was now balancing on that edge, Sherlock could see the tightening of his fist, his head thrown back. John’s mouth opened in a silent ‘O’ and then his head snapped down again to look directly into the camera. Sherlock’s eyes widened, he sat forward, watching John’s face intently. John appeared to be looking right into Sherlock’s eyes,  his back arched and as he came he cried out Sherlock’s name.

This is a little ficlet in celebration of my dear friend, on here and in real life, cumber-porn and her blog reaching 10,000 followers. Congratulations darling, I hope this is to your taste, love you x Gifs are by the very talented sherlockspear if you are not following either of these wonderful people do so now sherlockspeare.tumblr.com cumber-porn.tumblr.com