Chapter Text
Two weeks later, over breakfast, Sherlock said in a neutral voice, “I have the experiment plan ready. Perhaps we could review it together tonight.”
The bite of toast John was chewing stuck in his throat. He took a big swig of tea to wash it down. “Uh-- alright. Why don’t you email it to me today so I can be prepared to discuss it?”
“It’s complicated. I’d prefer to go over it together,” Sherlock said.
“Fine,” said John.
John was working at the clinic that day, and as he left the flat and took the tube to work, he was feeling queasy from the butterflies in his stomach. He was nervous. And intrigued. And more than a little bit excited.
He’d almost convinced himself that Sherlock had forgotten about the challenge. They hadn’t discussed it again after that night. But he should have known – Sherlock would not back down from a dare, particularly not one that involved something as fun as constructing an experiment plan. What had he come up with? John was exceedingly curious. He hadn’t been able to think of very many ways they could test such a thing.
Would Sherlock suggest that they have sex with each other? The thought gave him the kind of rush that he might feel if a friend jumped out from behind a door and shouted 'boo' -- an immediate scream followed by a giggling thrill, almost despite oneself. He and Sherlock having sex would be… well, that would very weird. John wasn’t gay, even if everyone seemed to think they were a couple. He liked and admired Sherlock a lot, abnormally a lot as bloke-to-bloke went. And he was objective enough to acknowledge that Sherlock was attractive, in his own way. But the genius was also a cold fish, untouchable. It was hard to imagine Sherlock having sex with anyone, even if John wanted to have sex with a man, which he didn't. How would that even… ? No, it was just weird.
He stifled a giggle. He could almost hear Sherlock's cutting voice: Is that your penis? Really? No, John pitied the person who tried to have sex with Sherlock Holmes. And anyway, how could that decide the challenge? They’d end up arguing – you liked it better than I did; no, I did not! And that wouldn’t solve anything.
But what was the alternative? Polling past lovers? Visiting a sex lab? Taking some kind of erection suspension test? It all seemed equally unlikely and laughable (and potentially embarrassing). Still, while John might not respect Sherlock’s abilities at sex, he did respect them at science, and he figured whatever Sherlock had come up with it was bound to be interesting and well thought-out.
And very possibly manipulative as hell. He had to be on guard for that. Whatever the plan was, he had make sure the fine print didn’t give Sherlock the advantage.
What the hell was the plan? The nervousness took a tentative sidestep towards fear. No, don’t go there, he told himself, no point in freaking out until you know what it is. Whatever the plan was, John didn’t have to agree, right? If he didn’t like anything about it, he could just say no.
A small voice in his head told him he’d never said no to Sherlock Holmes. He ignored it.
He should win this, and he would. No matter how Sherlock tried to arrange it, the fact was, John was fantastic at sex and he was pretty sure Sherlock was clueless. He was probably so clueless, he had no idea how clueless he was. It was about time John taught his flatmate a modicum of humility.
-B-
That night, when John nervously walked into 221B, the ‘case wall’ over the fireplace had been arranged with at least 20 pages of text, graphics and charts. Sherlock was dressed in his going-out clothes, dark suit with a blue shirt (tight, as usual) and shiny polished black shoes. As John came in, Sherlock swept towards the door with unusual solicitude.
“Ah, John, you’re home,” Sherlock said coolly. “Are you hungry? Would you like to order some take-away or run out for dinner before we proceed? Or perhaps you’d like some time to unwind.”
John blinked at him in surprise. His eyes went to the papers on the wall. “Ah… thoughtful of you. I guess. But I can wait for dinner. I’d really like to hear about the plan. Maybe I’ll just—change.”
“Of course,” Sherlock said.
John looked at Sherlock’s clothes. “Er -- unless you wanted to go out. If so, I’ll keep on my work clothes—“
“No, not I. By all means, change into your comfortable clothes.”
“Okay,” John said.
He went upstairs to his room slowly, his excitement building. In fact, he could barely suppress a shiver as he changed into a comfortable jumper. It was clear Sherlock was focused on this wager. He’d done his homework. And there had been a confidence in him. The solicitude… what was that about? John had the strange feeling it was the sort of ‘samurai bow’ would offer an opponent before beating the shit out of him. Maybe Sherlock felt the plan was an ace in the hole.
Interesting.
John had to make sure it wasn’t. He smiled. He changed into a comfortable pair of jeans quickly and went back downstairs. He forced his anticipation to wait just a little longer as he made two cups of tea. Finally he was standing in front of the fireplace with Sherlock.
“So... what is all this then?” John asked, looking over the papers.
“Yes, well…” Sherlock cleared his throat. He was trying to sound neutral, but John could tell he was quite pleased with himself. “It was an interesting problem. How do you measure something as subjective as sexual response? I assumed neither of us wanted to go to some clinic to be poked and prodded.”
“Cheers to that,” John said, taking a sip of tea.
“Exactly. So I needed to design an experiment we could do here, in the flat. Something that would be as objective as possible, something that would hopefully not subject either of us to anything too public or uncomfortable.”
“Yeah,” said John, feeling a little bit relieved.
Sherlock pointed to the first page. It had rows labeled “Sherlock” and “John” and columns labeled “Subject A” and “Subject B”.
“The first thing that was obvious to me was that we’d have to test you and I against the same subject. After all, an individual’s sexual biases and responsiveness will clearly effect the results. So there’s no way we could test ourselves on two different people and expect the data to be at all comparable.”
John stared at the page. “You’re saying you and I have to have sex with the same person? ‘Subject A’? But at different times?”
“Precisely,” Sherlock agreed.
OK, that was a bit weird.
“Why is there a Subject B then?” John asked.
Sherlock waved an impatient hand in the air. "Obvious."
John noted that both Subject A and Subject B’s columns intersected with the John and Sherlock rows.
“You want us both to have sex with two subjects, the same subjects, so you’ll have two sets of data,” John guessed.
“Precisely,” said Sherlock. “I considered adding more. And if the results are inconclusive, we can always broaden the study. But it will be a challenge enough to find two good subjects willing to participate. I think we should keep the scale like this for now.”
“I’ll say,” John muttered. “So you’re going to have to find two different woman, both willing to have—“
“No,” Sherlock said. He stared at John like he was being dim.
“What?” John asked.
“Subject A is female. Subject B is male.”
Ah, there it was; the ‘boo’ moment. It wasn’t that bad, really. Compared to, say, being faced with a gun in the face in a dark alley. John had been expecting just about anything. But seeing it actually there – on the paper, and in Sherlock’s ‘this is only logical’ expression, made it real. John swallowed.
“Sherlock,” he said, sounding remarkably calm. “I have never had sex with a man, so I don’t see how that can be relevant to a test about my sexual ability or knowledge.”
“John, it’s necessary,” Sherlock explained, impatiently. “We must both have sex with the same two subjects or the data is meaningless. Do you agree?”
“I get that, yeah,” John began, “But why a man and a woman? You don’t have to be bisexual to be good at sex. It’s not about being the most versatile.”
Sherlock rolled his eyes. “It has to be this way because, John, you prefer women and have never had sex with a man. And I prefer men and have never had sex with a woman. So if we used either two women or two men, one of us would be at a severe disadvantage. This is the only way it could possibly be fair.”
John stared at the papers on the wall, compressing his lips. OK, ‘boo’ moment #2.
What? It wasn’t as though the idea of Sherlock being gay had never occurred to him. It was just – shit – it hadn’t occurred to him in the context of this challenge. And it was one thing to maybe wonder about his flatmate’s proclivities, or if he even had any proclivities at all. It was another to have Sherlock standing right there saying – I like men. I prefer to suck cocks.
And shit, John was starting to get hard. What was that about? It was just the weirdness of all this. Talking about sex in detached manner like this, sex that might actually happen. Maybe he had a science kink he never knew about. And, alright, the sudden visual of Sherlock doing that. It was the shock of it.
John cleared his throat. “It seems a bit odd, though. To have a test of our sexual prowess include a scenario where both of us will have to have sex with a gender we’ll be complete novices at. That’s rather backwards, isn’t it?”
“And one gender in which we won’t. It’s actually quite elegant,” Sherlock said with a self-congratulatory smile. “After all, if you’re really good at sex, you should be able to transfer those skills to a new situation. So each of us will have the chance to show what we can do with what we know, and what we can do with something we’ve never done before. It’s perfect.”
“Hmmm.” John said. It did make sense the way Sherlock put it. But that was all theoretical. The idea of actually being naked, in a bed, with a strange man, ‘Subject B’, was another matter. One he’d have to seriously think through.
“Just to be clear,” John said, “I don’t have to agree to any of this.”
“Of course not,” Sherlock said with a shrug. “You have the option of conceding.”
Sherlock tried very hard to say it neutrally. But John heard it, a tiny trace of smugness in his voice. John narrowed his eyes.
“Well, carry on,” he said. “Let’s hear the whole, messed up rest of it.”
“My experiment is not 'messed up',” Sherlock said with a trace of hurt. He pointed to another page that looked like an Excel print out. It had time tables on it.
“The way it would work is this: There are four test nights. You would have sex with one of the subjects. Thirty minutes after the sex concludes, we sit the subject down to fill out a survey….” Sherlock pointed to another form that had checkboxes and looked something like a porno version of a form you’d fill out at the doctor’s office. “A week later, that same subject comes back and I would have sex with them. Again, they fill out the same survey upon completion. We wait a week, then repeat the steps with the other subject. The entire test will take 4 weeks.”
“Sounds reasonable,” John said, “But this should be blind. The second person to go should not get to see the results of the first person’s poll. That might give clues that would be unfair.” John was proud of himself for thinking of it. He knew something about the scientific method. He’d run studies of his own in med school.
Sherlock was studying him with an expression that was a bit… awkward. “Actually, John, I’ve given it a great deal of thought, and I think it shouldn’t be blind at all.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that the one of us who is not performing that night should be in the room at the time the study is being conducted.”
John stared at Sherlock, trying to wrap his head around it. “What?”
Sherlock sighed in exasperation. “Really, how can I make it any clearer? While you are with a subject, I would be in the room observing. And vice versa.”
“No!” John said, then, “What the hell, Sherlock? Why?”
“Several reasons,” Sherlock said in the fast voice he used for deductions. “First, we both admit that sexual pleasure is extremely subjective. Even though we would be testing ourselves against the same subject, there’s no way for it to be one-hundred-percent objective. The woman might prefer tall men or a certain kind of penis or be in a bad mood one night. And certainly, the person performing will have little objectivity – though they will fill out a survey as well. No, a test of this sort requires at least one impartial observer, someone who can fill out a survey at the end as well. That third data sample is critical. And I assumed you would not want yet another party involved as the observer.”
“That—that doesn’t even make sense!” John said. “How can you impartially rate my performance when you’re my competitor?”
“I am capable of being objective, John,” Sherlock said stiffly, “And I’m showing a great deal of faith in you to assume that you can be objective also.”
“Nope,” John said, “No, no, no.”
OK, this was definitely crossing the line. It was one thing to have sex with a strange woman, and then a strange man, and to think about Sherlock doing the same – with the same people. It was another to be buck naked and performing, well, whatever it was he had to in order to win, with Sherlock sitting right there watching him, propped in the corner like some note-taking vulture.
Sherlock pressed his lips tightly together. “Perhaps Lestrade would be willing—“
“No,” John said.
Sherlock was quiet for a moment. “Mike Stamford. He’s a doctor.”
“God, no!” John said, in horror.
“John, there must be at least 3 points of data! That is the only way a clinical trial like could possibly be valid!”
John stared at the print-outs. He was feeling the chill of irrational fear but also… excited. Fuck. Sherlock! Life was never dull with him, was it?
“Think of a third party you’d be willing to accept or concede the contest,” Sherlock said flatly.
“Shut up,” John said. “Just… go on. We’ll decide at the end. No wait – you said there was several reasons why you thought we should… ‘observe’ each other.”
“Yes,” Sherlock said, with a trace of excitment. “The other reason has to do with the order in which we arrange the subjects. You are more comfortable with the woman and I with the man. So in order to be fair, we will both either go first with our ‘stronger gender’ or both go second. “
“Right,” John said.
“There are pros and cons to both. But I think the best case scenario is for us to each to go first. If you are the observer, and you see me with the man, then that will give you an advantage when it is your turn with him. You will get to see what he likes and also observe my technique. That advantage will lessen your handicap due to your lack of experience with men. And the same goes for my turn with the woman – I can observe you with her and be better prepared myself, lessening my handicap.”
It did have a kind of elegance. “God, that’s brilliant!” John said. Then he frowned. “And yet so incredibly fucked up at the same time.”
“So that’s how the test nights would run – you with the woman, then me a week later. I with the man, then you a week later. The only question is which subject is first. There might be a slight disadvantage in being the first ‘on stage’, as it were, due to natural nervousness. So I suggest we flip a coin.”
John looked at another sheet, biting his lip. “What about time? How long will we have?”
“I thought about setting a time limit, but it would hardly do to be interrupted before the experience is complete. I thought a more reasonable criteria would be that once you or I come, it’s over, hands off. Beyond that, you can take as long as you want and do anything you want.”
John gave a tight nod. He was very good at withholding ejaculation, so he felt confident he could do whatever he wanted before coming. Not that he was seriously considering this.
“Who gets to pick the subjects?” John asked. “And, seriously, how do we find both a decent-looking man and a woman willing to have sex with both of us – not to mention put up with being watched?”
“I’ve researched several London swinger sites. We’ll have to agree on criteria, then I’ll discretely advertise. We’ll interview candidates together. We’ll both have to give a favorable vote to pass someone through.”
“Yay, that’ll be easy,” John muttered, thinking of the difficulty he had picking up a woman just for regular old sex.
“If we can’t find candidates acceptable to both of us, it’s a draw,” said Sherlock.
The reality of it was starting to sink in. For a moment, John actually saw himself, standing here looking at the graphs, talking to Sherlock about having sex, including gay sex, and watching each other having it. And to think three weeks ago his biggest problem was how to pay the rent. Suddenly, it all seemed blindingly absurd.
“I’m going to have to think about this,” John said. “It’s pretty damn strange. I mean, even you do see that, right?”
“You agree that it’s a sensible approach to determining the challenge? That is, which of us is better at sex?” Sherlock said.
John shrugged. “I... guess. If you take all the weird out of it. Which is not possible and kinda my point.”
“Can you think of an alternative methodology?”
John couldn’t. He hadn’t been able to come up with much of anything in the past two weeks. He shook his head.
“Well, then,” Sherlock said briskly. “I’m prepared to accept your concession. In fact, we haven’t even set the ‘prize’ yet. So if you choose to concede, I’m willing to simply put it behind us. You will admit that I am a better authority on sex than you, and that will be the end of it.”
“What?” John laughed in disbelief. “No way! First of all, I haven’t said no yet. And secondly, there is no way choosing not to participate in this crazy-arsed experiment means you’re the sex expert around here.”
“That's precisely what it means.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Because if you choose to concede that indicates that you aren’t confident enough in your abilities to win. And furthermore, the reasons for your rejection shows that your sexual template is incredibly vanilla. To be blunt, John, a sex ‘expert’, particularly one that would be useful in crimes of passion, needs to have a broader palette than that.”
“Vanilla!” John said, outraged. He turned from the fireplace to face Sherlock and took up his soldier’s stance, crossing his arms and glaring. “Oh, I am so not vanilla, Holmes. You have no idea.”
John’s voice was low and dangerous. For a moment, Sherlock’s smug expression was replaced by an expression John had never seen before – something a little curious and… heated. But it was only a moment. Before John could blink, or really be sure of what he’d seen, Sherlock’s snide expression was firmly back in place.
“Let me count the ways,” Sherlock said. “1) you have a problem with having sex with a man. 2) You have a problem with both of us having sex with the same person, even on different nights—“
“I never said—“
“Oh, please! It was transparent! And 3) you object to voyeurism, even by a lone individual, someone you know, someone who is also going to allow you to be the observer in turn, and who has a perfectly valid scientific reason to be there. As I said, vanilla. With a V, John.”
John wanted to strangle him.
“Fine!” John said. “All of it! Bring it on! If you can do it, I can do it. And you are so going down, Holmes.”
Sherlock smirked. “’I’m sure that will be on the agenda, yes.”