Work Text:
"John I need to tie you to this chair." Sherlock stated as the doctor came in from his shift at the clinic. John shrugged off his coat and turned around, thinking he had misheard his flatmate.
"Sorry. What!?" He asked bewildered.
"You heard me correctly. It's for a case. Now come here." Sherlock drawled impatiently, indicating to the chair in question - placed directly facing the detective's own armchair.
"I thought Lestrade didn't have any new cases for you..." John replied, still unconvinced. Sherlock saw the small arch of his friend's eyebrow and rolled his eyes.
"True, but this particular puzzle came through the website."
John sighed heavily, but gave in and sat down. The detective beamed at him as he did and John began to suspect he had just walked directly into a trap. Sherlock lifted a length of rope from the rug and knelt to tie John's wrists in complicated knots against the armrests. Once done he checked the bindings and then straightened, giving John a once over. John gave him an expectant look, as if to ask: 'now what?'.
"I..." Sherlock's facial expression suddenly shifted; the detective briefly glanced at the doorway, then a point on the wall behind John. Silence stretched between them until finally...
"There isn't a case, is there!?" The doctor demanded angrily. Sherlock looked at the ornate rug and squirmed slightly. John's patience was thinning rapidly. "Right, well then you can bloody well untie me this minute, Sherlock!"
There was still no response so John took a deep breath as he closed his eyes and began counting to ten. He got as far as six before he suddenly felt soft lips press firmly, but fleetingly against his own. His eyes shot open in shock at the same time Sherlock pulled away. The detective was attempting to look as if nothing had happened - as if he hadn't just kissed John. John stayed still for another whole minute before attempting to free himself again. It was impossible, so he glared at his flatmate while sagging against the wooden frame.
"Untie me, now." He said in a low threatening voice. Sherlock dropped his eyes, and himself, to the ground but with deft fingers undid the knots quickly at John's wrists. John stayed still until the rope was pulled away from his skin, giving him time to consider his response. Once the detective made to stand, the doctor reached out and grabbed his flatmate's face. Framing the pale cheekbones and scared eyes between his tanned hands softly. He kept him there for a moment then gently closed the distance between them. After pulling away he whispered:
"I don't do bondage."