John probably should have seen this coming, after all when someone lives with the world's only Consulting Detective, things don't stay hidden very long. Still, he thought it might have lasted a bit longer than it did. In hindsight, he was going to blame letting Sherlock pin him to the wall in the sitting room instead of insisting they continue the twenty steps it would have taken to get to Sherlock's bedroom.

But then when you have the long, lanky, gorgeous body of Sherlock Holmes crushed against you, with his obvious arousal rutting against your own, it's difficult to think straight, in fact it's difficult to breathe. John had been coherent enough to succeed in getting Sherlock shirt unbuttoned but other than that, things were progressing at a frustrating pace, mostly because Sherlock was making it difficult for John to do anything other than concentrate on not coming in his pants.

Sherlock grabbed the bottom of John's jumper and started to tug, yanking it over the doctor's head and throwing it across the room. He ducked his head down and took John's right nipple into his mouth, teeth teasing over the sensitive flesh while John twisted his fingers into Sherlock's curls and moaned.

John desperately needed to get his erection free from where it was trapped under his useless clothes and Sherlock seemed to sense this. He pulled away and nipped at John's earlobe. "Strip. Now." Sherlock growled and John hastened to comply. But he stopped immediately as Sherlock headed for the skull.

"Oh, ah, no." John stumbled quickly, crossing the room to get to the mantle before Sherlock, blocking the detective's path.

"John?" Sherlock asked, quirking an eyebrow in confusion.

"It's, uh, not there anymore." John moved in Sherlock's way when the man tried to get around him.

"What are you talking about?" Sherlock frowned. "We keep the lubricant under the skull."

"Well I moved it." John said crossing his arms over his chest.

"Why?"

"I, uh…" Also in hindsight, John should have come up with a convincing lie for the reason the lubricant was now in his top desk drawer.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes accusingly and quickly maneuvered around the doctor. John managed to grab Sherlock around the middle and tackle him to the floor before he could reach the skull. They wrested on the ground, rolling over the floor, hitting and kicking each other as they struggled for dominance.

"What are you hiding?" Sherlock asked when he had John's arms pinned on either side of his head.

"Nothing." John lied, breaking free of Sherlock's hold. He tried to flip them but Sherlock was sitting on top of John, his hands on his chest, making it difficult.

"What's under the skull?"

"Sherlock, please. Just leave it." John begged in vain. He managed to grab a hold of Sherlock's hips and pushed the detective off him.

Somehow in the midst of their tussle, Sherlock managed to get his shirt off and eventually used it to tie John's arms behind his back. It was a sloppy job and only held John captive for a few moments before he wiggled free, but it was long enough for Sherlock to get to the skull and find what was waiting underneath.

"Ah-ha!" Sherlock exclaimed triumphantly, holding up his secret supply of cigarettes. "So this is where you've been keeping them."

"Sherlock."

"Honestly John, you had to have known I'd look under there for the lubricant. I was going to find them eventually. What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that as of late, we usually tend to keep it together long enough to make it to the bedroom, making the lube under the skull somewhat unnecessary. I was thinking that if you knew what was under the skull, you wouldn't bother to look there for your cigarettes."

"Hmm." Sherlock said pensively. "Oddly enough, not your most idiotic notion. In fact if you hadn't looked so good taking down that mugger, turning me into a randy mess of a man, we would have made it to the bedroom, keeping your secret for another day."

"I'll keep that in mind next time." John huffed out a laugh.

Sherlock opened the pack and shook a fag loose, slipping it between his lips. He grabbed the matches they kept on the mantle for lighting the fireplace and struck one. John was on his feet in an instant, grabbing the cigarette from Sherlock's mouth. "No." John said sternly. "Cold Turkey, remember?"

"John." Sherlock whined.

No." John repeated, hiding the cigarette behind his back. That didn't deter Sherlock at all. He moved closer, right into John's personal space and buried his face against John's neck.

"Please." Sherlock pleaded, his hand lightly ghosting over John's chest, the feathery touches making John shiver. "I can smell them, taste them, the nicotine. It's like I can smell you, the scent you give off when you're aroused and I can't control myself. I've got to have one John, just as I've got to have you."

"Too bad." John said, keeping his composure remarkably well for how deep Sherlock's voice had gotten, well aware of how much John liked it.

"Please." Sherlock placed sucking kisses along John's neck and collarbone. "Please."

"Sherlock." John said warningly but it came out more of a groan.

"Please." Sherlock said again, his hand moving down lower, fingers dancing along the waistband of John's trousers. Sherlock used this as a distraction to reach for the cigarette behind John's back but John had excellent reflexes and managed to pull it away from Sherlock's grasp.

Sherlock snarled in frustration and John laughed. "Just one."

"Not even half of one."

"John." Sherlock sunk to his knees in front of the army doctor, rubbing his face against John's groin. John's breath hitched and Sherlock pulled back just slightly to smile up at him. Nimble fingers began undoing John's zip, Sherlock's ever-changing eyes never leaving John's, not even as Sherlock tugged John's trousers down, along with his pants. "I'll do anything."

John struggled to keep his breath even, licking his lips when he noticed his mouth had gone dry. It didn't seem fair that even after all this time of sleeping together, Sherlock could still have such a powerful pull over him. But like hell was he going to give in that easily. "Anything?" John asked, doing his best to keep his voice level.

"Anything." Sherlock confirmed, bringing his face forward and forming his lips around John's cock, sucking at the head. He shoved his tongue into the slit before swirling it around, massaging the glands.

"Christ." John canted his hips, pushing himself deeper into that glorious mouth. Sherlock gave him one tantalizing suck, a promise of things to come, and then pulled off, making John groan.

"Deal?" Sherlock asked.

"Come here." John said in reply and Sherlock smirked, rising to his feet. He held out the box of matches and John snatched them away. Sherlock watched avidly as John struck the match and lit the cigarette. He waved the match in the air to distinguish it and tossed it towards the fireplace. Sherlock parted his lips, his mouth already salivating at the thought of his first drag. To his surprise, John pushed his fingers up into Sherlock's hair and gripped his curls tight.

"John?" Sherlock stared at his lover in bewilderment, which only increased as John raised the cigarette to his own lips. Sherlock gaped at him as he took a nice long drag and then brought their lips together for an open mouth kiss. John exhaled, pushing the smoke into Sherlock's awaiting mouth. Sherlock inhaled it, the familiar feeling of smoke filling his lungs but different, oh so different as Sherlock's vice was shared between them.

He pulled away from the kiss to exhale and looked at John was keen fascination. John gave him a small smile and raised the fag back to his lips. Sherlock's cock, which had waned slightly during the struggle, was back at full attention at just the thought of continuing this. When John brought their faces back together, Sherlock reached out and began stroking John's prick. John moaned as he exhaled the smoke and Sherlock knew he needed more.

He wrapped his arm around John's waist and pulled him over to the sofa. He pushed John down onto it and the man went willingly, making sure to keep the cigarette from burning anything on his way down. Sherlock bent down and they had one more smoke-filled kiss before he pulled away.

"So where did you move the lubricant to?" Sherlock murmured against John's lips.

"You can't figure it out?" John challenged with a lopsided grin.

Sherlock's eyes flittered around the room, looking for likely hiding places and dismissing them. "Ah yes, of course." He said heading over to John's desk. He opened the top drawer and triumphantly held up the tube.

"Where are you going?" John asked when Sherlock walked away and into the kitchen. Sherlock didn't reply, instead coming back immediately with a teacup. "Ashtray." He said placing it down on the coffee table. He then went over and retrieved the pack of cigarettes and the matches and placed them on the table too.

"Now." Sherlock said undoing his trousers and shucking them off quickly. John watched appraisingly, still slowly smoking, propped up against the arm of the sofa. Sherlock moved his hips from side to side a bit, giving John a little show. John gave out a noise not unlike a whimper and reached down to stroke himself languidly. The sight of John smoking, lips wrapped around the fag, while his touched himself was almost too much for Sherlock. His cock was leaking with need but he wanted to take his time, after all they had the entire pack, there was no rush.

Sherlock played with the waist of his pants, sliding them down achingly slow so small patches of skin were revealed. John began smoking and wanking himself quicker, his pupils blown wide as he watched in awe. Sherlock bowed his head slightly and looked at John through heavy-lidded lashes. "Don't finish without me." He said, his voice a deep rumble. John groaned and loosened his grip on his cock, moving his hand in less haste.

He licked his lips, flicking the ash into the cup, his eyes never leaving Sherlock. The detective pushed down his black, tight boxer-briefs that clung to his skin. He watched John's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard just as Sherlock pushed his underwear down his thighs, his erection springing free. He slid them down lower, past his knees and then stepped out of them, kicking them away.

"Oh God, Sherlock." John said breathlessly. Sherlock smirked and made his way over, grabbing the lubricant as he settled himself on top of John, straddling his thighs. He poured a large amount of lube into his hands and rubbed it between them, warming it up. John removed his hand from his cock and it was replaced by both of Sherlock's.

"Christ." John swore, arching up off the couch as Sherlock applied the lube, stroking John slowly with both hands. "Oh god, oh god, oh god."

When Sherlock couldn't wait any longer, he got up onto his knees, and wiggled forward. He grabbed the base of John's prick, positioned himself over it and sunk down.

"Fuck." They said together as Sherlock took John halfway. He pushed back up so just the head was in and ground back down, taking even more as his body stretched to compensate for John's thickness.

"Bloody hell." John's hands were shaking as he took another drag. Sherlock moved back up and down until he was settled completely with John buried to the hilt inside him. Sherlock leaned forward just as John had pulled the cigarette away and their lips brushed against each other as John blew the smoke into Sherlock's mouth. Sherlock held it for as long as possible until he tilted his head back, elongating his neck and blew the smoke out up towards the ceiling. Then, with his eyes still up towards the ceiling, he began moving, rolling his hips.

"God, you're bloody gorgeous." John sighed, placing his free hand on Sherlock's hip and staring transfixed as Sherlock rode him. John crushed the cigarette out in the cup and grabbed the pack to light another one. When he had, Sherlock leaned forward again and they shared the smoke. Sherlock kept his hands on John's chest, using it to move himself up and down on John's prick.

It was good, it was so fucking good but John needed more. He brought his knees up and began lifting his hips, shoving his dick into Sherlock's tight heat hard. "Yes, oh yes John. Keep doing that." Sherlock moaned. They moved in unison, John thrusting up as Sherlock sunk down. John gave up and placed the cigarette into Sherlock's mouth so he could have a hand free to wrap around Sherlock's cock.

Sherlock let out a deep groan from the combined feeling of John's hand on his cock and the cigarette finally between his lips. Each time he pushed up, he thrust himself in and out of John's fist and he was already so close.

"John." He moaned as he sped up even more as John's fingers dug into his hip, trying to hold on. "Oh yes, oh John."

John had been reduced to grunts and pants, his eyes practically rolling back in his head as he hovered on the brink of orgasm. With a few final thrusts up, John came with something resembling Sherlock's name on his lips. Sherlock continued to push into John's fist, feeling John softening inside him. "Oh, oh, oh." Sherlock gasped as he his body convulsed and he spilled his release over John's hand and stomach.

Sherlock collapsed on top of John, being wary of where he put the cigarette. It was down low enough that he didn't feel wasteful stubbing it out in the teacup. He placed his head on John's chest, tilted to the side so he could gaze up at the other man. John had moved his hand into Sherlock's hair and was running his fingers through the mess of curls.

"You know, I think that might have been counterproductive." John mused with a small chuckle.

"Hmm." Sherlock agree, lifting himself up so John's cock slipped out. John lowered his legs down and Sherlock settled more evenly on top of him.

"But then you did promise me that if I let you smoke, you'd do anything."

"John." Sherlock started to panic, having a pretty good idea where this was headed.

"I want you to quit smoking."

"But John –" Sherlock pouted.

"You did say anything." John reminded him, lifting his arm up to wrap it around Sherlock.

"I suppose so." Sherlock grumbled, chastising himself for being so stupid. He'd have to be careful about what he said to John in the future.

"Well this is my anything, this is what I want."

"Fine."

"Good." John smiled at him, pressing his lips to Sherlock's forehead. "Still, hell of a last cigarette though."

Sherlock smiled against John's skin and then placed a few soft kissed across his flesh, sighing in contentment. "It certainly was."