homosociallyyours:

OK so I wrote basically an entire ficlet before this and then scrapped it and started over because it was getting way too long. I might go finish it though and will tag you if I do! 

John’s text alert sounded and he opened up the message as he stepped inside to see his next patient. What he saw nearly made him drop his phone and certainly made him turn around immediately, making his apologies to Mrs.Horton, telling her he’d be back in a few minutes. He scrambled into the men’s room and went inside a stall, locking the door behind him and sitting on the toilet to open the picture again.

It wasn’t quite a dick pic. John had sent a few of those in his past and received a couple as well. This was more of a nude, really.

The photograph was taken in a mirror –the mirror in the bathroom at 221B to be exact– and captured more than just the subject’s (Sherlock’s, it was definitely Sherlock’s, John reminded himself) cock. It also caught Sherlock’s slim abdomen, the jut of his hipbones and the trail of dark hair that led from his navel down into a closely trimmed thatch of pubic hair. It showed his thighs, which were well muscled and lean, and– only just slightly –the curve of his bum. His face was cropped out, but there was no doubt in John’s mind that it was him. John pulled up his texts from Sherlock and began typing.

Did you just send me a nude?
No.
Are you certain?
I think I’d know if I sent you a nude picture, John. Perhaps it’s one of your dates.
No dates right now, git. And none with a cock.

John’s phone showed Sherlock typing, then pausing for a long moment, then finally typing again. He sighed and waited, hoping he could have a few more minutes of privacy. Finally Sherlock’s response came.

Please delete!!
It’s ok, Sherlock. I see bodies all the time. I’m a doctor after all.
I didn’t mean to share it. I hit delete. I thought I did.
It’s fine. You’ve nothing to be ashamed of. 
I’m not ashamed. I’m embarrassed. There is a difference you know.

John nodded to himself. Of course it had to be embarrassing to know your friend had seen you naked. Not only naked, really, but naked in a sexual way. Sherlock had looked as though he were offering himself up to the camera. It wasn’t the same as seeing him traipsing around the flat in a sheet. It did give John an idea, though.

I’ll send you a nude. Tit for tat, as it were.
I don’t mind.

Before he could read Sherlock’s response or allow himself to chicken out, John rucked up his shirt and pulled down his trousers and pants. He wasn’t hard, but after a couple of tugs and a quick look at Sherlock’s picture, he was halfway there. He turned so that the stall door was behind him and did his best to pose before clicking several pictures.

He sent the least blurry one quickly, not wanting to chicken out, and tucked himself back in before washing his hands and heading back to his appointment.

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