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Sherlock was lying on the sofa when he heard John come in. Ah, tea, he thought. The water ran for a bit, then silence.

“John, tea.”

“Not making any.”

“I heard the water run.”

“Because I’m drinking it.”

“Why are you drinking water?” Sherlock stood and started to stalk towards the kitchen only to come to a complete halt, mouth dropping open.

“Because I’m hot and thirsty? I’ve been for a run.” John refilled his glass and ran the sweating glass over his sweaty forehead.

Sherlock stared as a drop of water ran down John’s face and his neck. He swallowed dryly. Perhaps he needed water too?

“John, what on earth are you wearing?” He waved his hand towards John’s completely ridiculous and not at all appealing form fitting outfit.

“Oh these? What do you think? They’re running tights. The saleswoman at the sporting goods store talked me into them. They’re stretchy and she said they made my arse look good.” He laughs. “Look,” he bends over to show Sherlock.

Sherlock stops breathing. “Uh yes, uh, stretchy.”

John stood back up and turned, looked downward, shaking his behind. “She may have overplayed the bit about my arse though. What do you think?” He gives Sherlock a completely over the top ‘come hither’ look and grins.

Something breaks within Sherlock and within seconds he is plastered to the front of John Watson with his hands finally cupping John’s buttocks. John gasps and Sherlock swoops down to kiss that lovely mouth. When John is as breathless as Sherlock feels, Sherlock breaks the kiss and practically purrs into John’s ear, “Your arse is spectacularly callipygian, John.”


Later as they lay panting on John’s bed, John asks, “What was it you called my arse earlier? Cali-something?”

“Callipygian. It means having shapely or beautiful buttocks.” Sherlock reaches over and squeezes the aforementioned buttocks; he really can’t keep his hands off.

“Hey!” John slaps his hand away, “My arse is going to be sore enough already what with the running, and groping, and you know.” He flushes.

“Yes I do know,” rumbles Sherlock and he chuckles. “As I was saying, the word comes from the Venus Kallipygos, a Roman copy of a Greek statue….Oh!”

“Oh God, I’ll never be able to get through a case without an erection now that I know that your ‘o face’ is the same as your “Oh! Face’.”

Sherlock leaps out of bed and shouts as he runs down the stairs, “It was the sculptor John, he was smuggling the originals inside of the copies!”

“Oh god Sherlock! Please put on some clothes before you….” He hears a door slam, “leave the flat.”