Snowed in

(Note it doesn't often snow that much in the UK, where I am there is little to no snow and I haven't heard of people of getting snowed in in the UK. so creative licence here)

Fan-bloody-tastic

John had had it. Yesterday he was nice and warm, sitting in his armchair in 221B. then his flatmate came in rambling about the case in god knows where and demanded John to pack a case and idiot that he was packed and followed Sherlock and now he was in a cabin on the middle of nowhere freezing his balls off.

"Start a fire" John demanded from where he was huddled in his blankets glaring at the consulting detective.

"Cant" Sherlock replied draping himself over the sofa "there is no wood"

Because of course the cabins only source of heat would be a fireplace.

"Get some from outside then"

"Cant"

"Why can't you?" John growled huddling in inside his blanket.

Irritably there was no reply

John heaved a sigh and let his blanket drop. He would have to be quick but he needed heat soon. He marched over to the cabin door and opened it.

Only to be bet with a wall of snow. The wall was up to his chest and he was no easy way of getting out. John slammed the door and turned to his flatmate.

"We can't get out"

"Not without get covered in snow and the strong possibility of frostbite before we can get anywhere were we could get help" came the casual reply

"We can't start a fire"

"All the wood would be wet"

"We are going to freeze to death here"

"No, get your blanket."

John sighed and turned around to get his basket, he was too cold and too tired to think much more.

When he turned back he was met with the sight of his naked flatmate

"Sherlock what….what….what" John couldn't speak, or think, staring gobsmacked at his friend.

"The most effective way to stay warm is to share body heat," Sherlock told him wrapping himself up in his own blanket. "Strip"

in another situation John would of argued, but he was cold, could see Sherlock's point and well in all honesty John could think or worse things than sharing a blanket naked with an equally naked Sherlock.

Once naked, John joined Sherlock in his blanket and wrapped his blanket around the both of them. John was trying to think of anything that wasn't that he was naked next to his flatmate who was equally naked. Didn't work. He knew he was getting hard and he hoped Sherlock somehow wouldn't notice.

"You have an erection John."

So much for that.

"Yes, well just ignore it, it's nothing I mean…god" John groaned and rubbed his face. Today was not his day and it wasn't even noon.

"I could help"

"Sherlock its fine just ignore it, it will go away and …. WHAT?" John turned facing his flatmate who was still as emotionless as ever.

"I could help you; deal with your erection that is." Sherlock said, his face still not showing a trace of emotion.

John continued to stare at him.

"When you say deal with…" John trailed off

"Sex"

"If this is a wet dream it is a kind of crappy one." John commented to himself.

"You aren't asleep John"

"The only way I can explain you propositioning me for sex with a straight face."

Sherlock huffed.

"I don't see the problem. You are attracted to me, I am to you, and we want to have sex so why don't we have sex"

John stared at him.

"You can't be attracted to me, I would have noticed" John exclaimed

"Evidently not, I have displayed all the classic signs of attraction, dilated pupils, accelerated heartbeat, erections at inconvenient times. Also we could have kept on pants and still shared body heat. Finally I also have an erection now so we should have sex to sate both our needs."

John stared at his friend, not really processing what he was saying "what?"

Sherlock huffed and grabbed John's hand on his penis. Which John realised, was hard.

"I want you John, NOW!" Sherlock growled.

John had wanted to argue, there were going to be consequences, but right now all he could think of was Sherlock.

Experimentally John pumped Sherlock shaft, drawing out a groan from the detective. Encouraged, John tightened his grip and repeated the movement. Sherlock moaned and maneuvered John so he was straddling his lap. John gasped at this change of position and thrust his hips, rubbing their cocks together. Growling Sherlock wrapped one hand around both their cocks while the other gripped at John neck, pulling him down into a bruising kiss. John moaned into the kiss and thrust into Sherlock fist, holding onto Sherlock shoulders for support. His blanket had long since fallen off his shoulders but John didn't notice, too caught up in the sensation. A few more sharp thrust and John was coming on both there stomachs followed closely by Sherlock his groan lost against John's lips. They sat basking in the afterglow until the come between them became uncomfortable. Sherlock grabbed a shirt (John's) and cleaned them both up. Then picking up both blankets he arranged himself on the sofa and pulled John on top of him, wrapping them both up in the blankets. John would have protested at being manhandled but for the first time that day he was warm and he was tired so instead he settled down to sleep.