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“Bored.”
John rolls his eyes. This is the 12th time within an hour that his flatmate has said this. “Have you tried playing a mobile game?” He will suggest about anything to shut up him up. John has been trying to update his blog but with Sherlock acting like a child, he’s only got two paragraphs done.
“Boring.” Sherlock whines from his laying position on the couch.
“Read a book.” John says from behind his laptop.
“Unoriginal.”
“Flip through the telly.”
“No.”
“Clean the kitchen. You did explode a tomato.”
“It was a tomatillo and it was an important experiment. Besides, we have Mrs. Hudson for that.”
“Don’t let her hear you say that.” He looks up at his disheveled mate.
“She loves it.” Sherlock waves his hands dismissively.
“I don’t think she does, Sher.”
“She loves it as much as she loves the thrill of ignoring traffic laws.”
John shakes his head. “I still wouldn’t say it in front of her if I were you. She cherishes you, but that wouldn’t stop her from slapping you.”
Sherlock turns his gaze to him. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” He gives him a toothy grin.
‘Mental, my best mate is mental.’ John thinks to himself. ‘Mental, brilliant, and handsome.’ He ducks his head behind his laptop, pretending to go back to his blog. Can’t have his flatmate deduce his crush. It’s not as if he’s ashamed. He’s not at all ashamed of his bisexuality, but it’s not something he likes to share. Plus, theres no use. Sherlock is ace and aro. He wouldn’t want a romantic/sexual relationship. He said as much at Angelio’s that first night. Which is perfectly alright with John. As long as he’s in his life, he doesn’t mind what kind of relations they have.
John waves those thoughts away and abandon his blog. He searches for a case in local news sites and blogs so that Sherlock can shut up about being bored. He can be uncooperative and annoying when bored. Unfortunately, John isn’t finding much of anything.
He closes his laptop with a sigh. “All criminals must be on holiday.”
“Well that’s not nice of them for not inviting us.” Sherlock coyly says while playing snake on his mobile.
John chuckles and stands. “Want a cupa?” Sherlock nods in response.
He goes into the kitchen to make tea for the both of them. He doesn’t even flinch when he finds four human ears in all different shades in a jar next to the sugar. Just a perk of living with Sherlock Holmes. It’s been about a year of them living together. John is pretty use to the younger man’s odd habits and experiments.
When the tea is done, John brings their cups into the living room. He hands Sherlock his. “Sit up.” He pats the pajama clad legs of Sherlock.
Sherlock moves to a sitting position, but lays his feet in John’s lap. John doesn’t mind though. He picks up a book he’s been meaning to read and flips it open.
Sherlock taps the book with his foot lightly. “Care to read aloud?”
“I thought you said reading a book was boring.” John teases.
Sherlock shrugs and doesn’t look up from his phone. “It’s not if you’re reading it to me.”
John’s heart flutters at those words. “Alright.” He then begins to read out loud. “Most people would probably call me a ghost. I am, after all dead….” *
He doesn’t get too far into the book, only to chapter five, till he heard a soft snore from his flatmate. It’s been a while since Sherlock got a proper sleep. John makes sure not to move to much or make much noise.
For a while he reads the book further, knowing Sherlock already figures out Shari’s murderer. John feels himself grow tired so he sets the book down and looks at his sleeping mate.
In the midday light, Sherlock looks peaceful and innocent. Not unlike a kitten. A very tall handsome kitten. It makes John want to wrap his arms around him and shot anyone who comes to close. All people see when they look at Sherlock is an insane prick (which, time to time he definitely is). No one but John sees what’s behind that protective mask he dons. A good man who wants to help others and solve puzzles. He doesn’t like milk in his coffee. He loves dancing, even if he rarely does it. He doesn’t care for roses, but loves sunflowers. He sings in the shower but denies it.
John cherishes all the little things that Sherlock allows him to see. He puts up a front and only shows John the true him. It warms his heart to know that Sherlock trusts him enough with the important bits.
His eyes slowly drift close as he still admires the sunlight illuminating his mate.
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John pulls Sherlock on top of himself on the bed. “Come here, Love.”
Sherlock straddles his hips and leans down to kiss across John’s chest, starting at his scar. He leaves little butterfly kisses all the way up to his chin and pauses.
“Sherlock…” John groans.
Sherlock smirks and swallows his moans with his own lips. John weaves his hands into those gorgeous curls and pulls. Sherlock moans into his mouth and thrust his boxer clad hips into his own.
John pulls away. “Damn, Sher, I’m needing you to fuck me, now.”
“As you wish.” His deep baritone voice sends shivers down his spine.
“God, Sherlock, you make me mad.” John says looking into those beautiful blue-green eyes.
“John.” Sherlock says running his hands down his body, hooking his fingers in his boxers.
“Hmm.” He helps shimmying down his underwear.
“John.” He grabs onto his member.
“Oh god!” John’s head falls back.
“John!” Why is he shouting? “Wake up!”
-------------------
John blinks and he is not in his bed. He’s on the couch with Sherlock practically in his lap from trying to wake him up. Great. He was just having a wet dream with his man.
“Oh God.” John’s cheeks heat up as he puts his face in his hands.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, John. Really. Everyone has sex dreams.” Sherlock sits back.
Of course he would deduce him having a wet dream. Not as if this is already embarrassing.
“Though…” He trails off.
John opens his eyes and looks at him, “What?” ‘Please don’t know it was about you! Please, please, plea-’
“John,” pause. “You’ve said you’re not gay?” Sherlock looks at him. Really looks at him.
‘Fuuuuuck’ John thinks, this is it. “Yeah…” he looks at his hands, picking a nonexistent dirt off.
Sherlock squints. “But?”
He sighs. “I’m not straight, either.” Well he said it. “I’m bisexual. I don’t tell many people. I don’t care to hear what they got to say about my sexuality.” John finally looks at his flatmate.
“Hmm.” Sherlock keeps starring.
“Aren’t you going to say something?” John doesn’t like when he doesn’t voice what he’s thinking.
“You were hitting on me.”
“What?” When has he-
“At Angelo’s that first case.”
“Oh, uh. Kind of. I thought you were attractive, but really I wanted to know if you would have any sleepover guest. It’s sort of important to know about your flatmate. But then you all but said you are aro/ace. So I never pursued you.” He shrugged. Might as well be truthful.
Sherlock cocks an eyebrow. “You think I’m aromatic and asexual?”
“You-you aren’t?”
“No. I’m gay. Homosexual.” He sounds amused.
John blinks a few times. “Right.” God, he’s an idiot.
“I do see how I might have made it seem otherwise. I had just gotten out of a bad long term relationship. Hence why I was looking for a flatmate.”
“So, you’re gay and I’m bi…” John hopes, hopes with every fiber, that this goes where he thinks it might. He wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans.
“Hmm.” Sherlock casually leans back, draping his arms around the back of the couch. His eyes never leaving John’s.
“Sherlock…” He doesn’t know what to do. Does Sherlock harbor feelings for him? Should he make the first move? At that thought, his eyes travel down to Sherlock’s bow lips. He watches those thin pink lips move upward into a smile. His eyes snap up to those blue-green eyes.
“John.” Sherlock barely gets his name out before John leaps over and presses his lips to Sherlock’s. He brings a hand up to John’s cheek, caressing it as he loses himself into the kiss.
John’s own hands find their way into the dark curls. He finds himself straddling one of Sherlock’s legs to get closer to the beautiful genius. He nibbles at his lips until Sherlock opens his mouth to grant him access.
Sherlock moans into his mouth as John lightly pulls at his hair. His free hand travels down to the small of John’s back and pushes him closer.
John’s knee nudges Sherlock’s growing bulge.
Sherlock pulls back with a groan. His head hitting the back of the couch.
“Gorgeous.” John whispers before latching onto his neck. He licks and sucks hickeys on his pale skin. Sherlock lets out a series of delicious sounds.
“Jooohhn.” Sherlock leans into John’s mouth. He clutches the collar of John’s jumper and runs his other hand to his arse. He squeezes and John groans in return.
John pulls off Sherlock’s neck and looks into those ever-changing eyes. “Look at yourself. You’re bloody beautiful.” John watches the blush appear on Sherlock’s sharp cheekbones.
“I-John-uh-you-” Sherlock’s brain appears to have broken.
John smiles, “You alright, Love?” He sits back on Sherlock’s legs.
Sherlock blinks several times.
John waits patiently, knowing it may take a while for his flatmate to process information. He most likely has entered his mind palace as he closes his eyes. John plays with a few curls to pass time. He doesn’t mind waiting, it gives him time to memorize every tiny detail of Sherlock’s face.
Sherlock didn’t shave that morning and John sees the dark hair poking out. He also has a pimple starting to form right by his ear. John wonders if he’ll let him pop it. His lips are pinker than usual and swollen from their snogging. John unconsciously licks his own lips. He watches as Sherlock’s facial expressions move ever so slightly. A raised eyebrow, then a furrowed brow, a scrunching of his nose, a grin gracing his lips. Each movement captured by John.
Sherlock seems to come back to reality as his eyes flutter open and his hand moves to cup John’s jaw. “John. I seem to find your compliments exceptional erotic in this sort of situation. I request more with more kisses.”
“Request approved, Love.” John captures his lips in another kiss.
----
Down stairs a few minutes later, a certain landlady is heard, “Finally!”