Sherlock’s discovered some old pictures of John in red pants.
Better than Takeaway
John brought the takeaway, but Sherlock is distracted by his red pants.
It’s my own fic, but it’s monday, so…
Quick little red pants fic. Crossdressing, for both of them. Hope you folks like it. (This one ended up not being smut, I know, shocking).
It’s For a Case – John and Sherlock must both dress as women to infiltrate a club.
Loosely tied to A Smudge Of Red Lipstick. Teaser below the cut.
This is utterly ridiculous,” said John, staring at himself in the mirror. The lacy red panties cupped his arse as the high cut accentuated his hips.
“It’s for a case,” called Sherlock from the next room. With a sigh John picked up the matching red bra and got it on. He tugged the dress over his head and went back to the mirror, uncertain as he settled the blonde wig on his head. At least the wig had a short, if feminine, haircut. It was very strange, looking at himself in the mirror and seeing this.
Sherlock came elegantly into the room as if he wore heels every day, makeup case in his hand. “Sit on the bed,” he told John.
John sat down, smoothing the dress nervously as Sherlock opened the case. He closed his eyes as Sherlock worked, feeling the makeup applied with all of his usual care and grace. “I’m done,” he said with Sherly’s voice. John opened his eyes and blinked as he looked into the mirror. Well, not the most attractive woman in the world, but if the club was dark he’d be okay. There was the rustle of paper as Sherly opened a shoebox and pulled out a pair of ludicrous red heels. She slipped them onto John’s feet. “There you go, Joanne.”
I worte a thing for Red Pants Monday!
The Magic of Red Pants – When Sherlock is bored, John’s red pants provide an excellent distraction.
teaser below the cut
“Bored.” Sherlock lay stretched out on the couch, staring at the ceiling. This was the fifth time he’d announced his boredom in the last thirty minutes and John wasn’t about to suggest Cluedo again. Taking two deep breaths he finished his tea while watching Sherlock. The man was staring at the ceiling, fingers steepled at his chest, hair wild and uncombed. John was certain he hadn’t left the flat for days. His dressing gown was open, t-shirt rumpled and riding up, exposing a bit of pale bare stomach above his pyjama bottoms.
John finished the sentence and saved the document before getting up and heading for the couch. It was warm today and was wearing just a t-shirt and jeans himself. He could see Sherlock watching him as he climbed onto the couch and straddled Sherlock, hips slotting together as he leaned forward and settled on Sherlock’s narrow chest. A smile quirked across John’s lips.
Sherlock moaned softly, dropping his arms to his side. He rocked up against John. “You are wearing too many clothes,” he muttered.
“Am I?” John thrust against him once, twice, feeling Sherlock growing harder underneath him. “And I’m wearing something I thought you’d like.”
Pushing John up, Sherlock went for his belt. He moaned again as he got John’s flies open. “Red?”
Grinning now, John got up just long enough to peel off his jeans, revealing the red pants he was wearing underneath. It was worth it for the look of naked lust on Sherlock’s face