Interruptions (John/Sherlock)

((Happy new year! I hope your trip was nice!))

Hearing it said that he looked alive and beautiful made Sherlock blush. He had not allowed himself to feel that way for a very long time and when it did happen, (also known as the moment John came in his life) he wasn't aware of it any more. So hearing John saying it out loud made him shine even more. He lay his head on John's chest, his hand absent mindedly fumbling with the folds of John's shirt near his elbow.

"I love it too when you are at work. Not the work at the clinic. I mean the chasing after criminals. You look most alive when we are running, your brow is wet of sweat and your lips parted of panting. You have that glint in your eyes, that I only normally see during sex. Then you are also very alive, I might say."

Sherlock heaved a happy sigh, feeling John's chest bobbing up as John inhaled with him. Sherlock didn't feel sleepy or restful at all, as his fingers showed. His feet was tapping unheard rhythms in the air. Not long after he had laid his head down, he got up again and looked at John.

"We have still-" He looked at his watch. "Two hours and forty minutes until sunset and I am becoming bored. You are lucky, because I'm feeling generous now the case goes well, so you can decide what we are going to do meanwhile."

((Thank you! Happy new year to you as well. Trip was nice, went to see my dad, he lives a bit far away.))

John blushes when Sherlock describes him chasing after criminals, and then compares it to him during sex.

"You are what makes me so alive, in both cases really. Chasing criminals with you has always been more satisfying than anything I did in Afghanistan, and provided more of a rush. I've already said how much better sex is with you- there's a...connection that happens with it, that I never felt with anyone in the past. It's more than [i]just[/i] a physical act."

John could sense Sherlock's restlessness, and he grinned a bit when Sherlock wasn't looking at him. He had wondered if this was going to happen.

"My, that is a long time to keep you occupied, and you're letting me decide? Your generosity astounds me, and your trust. For all you know, I could decide that I'm in the mood to take a walking tour of all those picturesque little farms, or that I want to go play golf."

John attempts to look serious, but it's obvious Sherlock doesn't believe him at all. His Sherlock knows him too well.

"Well then, if you're not going to fall for that..." John rolls them over so he's now on top of Sherlock, "let me give you that massage I promised earlier. I'll grab the oil, you take off your shirt and flip so you're on your stomach."

Sherlock happily complied. He sat straight, unbuttoned his shirt and neatly hung it on the edge of the bed. He planned on wearing it again later. Then, he flopped down on his stomach on the soft sheets. He felt John's weight dipping the bed when he scooted over to him.

"Sherlock, put this under your chest." John tossed him a cushion. "If you stay in this position, your neck will get even more sore than before."

Sherlock got up again and placed the cushion under his chest, as he was told to. Then, he lay down again, making himself comfortable. And it was so comfortable, he let out a deep sigh.

"Good enough?"

John scoots so he's right next to Sherlock, and lightly trailed his fingers down the long white planes of Sherlock's back. He smiles as the man beneath him shivers slightly.

"Yes, very good."

John had pulled off his jumper, and rolled the sleeves of his button-up shirt up to his elbows.

He pours the warm oil onto his hands, and gently spreads it onto Sherlock's shoulders and neck. He can feel the traces of oil on his hands warming slightly as he rubs it around. Once the upper half of Sherlock's back is slick and shining with the oil, John starts working the muscles, rubbing them in slow, circular patters, focusing in on areas where he can feel stiffness. He smiles, hearing Sherlock sigh happily under him as the tension is rubbed out of his shoulders. He occasionally adds in touches that are more caressing than massaging, but Sherlock doesn't seem to mind them.

Once he has the knots of muscle practically all worked out, John leans over to whisper in Sherlock's ear.

"I'm going to move to reach this last spot. Stay still."

John then gets up on his knees and slings a leg over Sherlock so he is straddling the man's bum, lowering down slowly so that he is seated on Sherlock's bum, careful to balance his weight on his knees so he doesn't hurt Sherlock.

He then reaches forward to start up the massage again, this time easily getting sidetracked to trail his fingers lightly along Sherlock's side, and stroke them from Sherlock's ears to the back of his neck. He presses his hips against Sherlock's bum, pretending to have to shift to try rubbing a knot in Sherlock's neck at a different angle. Then, he shifts so that his chest in pressed right up against Sherlock's back, and he is breathing heavily against Sherlock's neck. He starts rubbing his fingers along Sherlock's scalp and pulling lightly at Sherlock's hair.

"Feel good?" he asks, his voice coming out low and husky.

Sherlock let out deep sighs as he felt himself relax under John's touch. His fingers had a magic effect, finally easing all the knots out of his muscles. He had never had a decent massage, so Sherlock gladly let the sensations wash over him.

The sensations were fantastic. Sherlock felt his mind calm down and focussed only on the warm, smooth touch of skin on skin. Sometimes, John didn't softly probe at his muscles, but just caressed his skin. That was when Sherlock felt the warm fuzzy feeling in his stomach building up. John loved him very much, that was clear.

But then something changed. Not only John's position changed, his attention changed too. For the best, Sherlock thought.

John's weight descended upon him. It didn't hurt, it felt very reassuring. John's hips straddling his ass, John's fingers in his hair and his voice that sounded so hot. It all piled up on the fuzzy feeling in his stomach, though a sharper edge was added to that feeling.

"Very good."

Oh John's mouth made the nicest sounds. Breathing heavily and sounding husky and ready. John's breath tickling in his neck made him shiver and arch his bum up. It was interesting and frustrating that he couldn't turn around and touch John as well. Half of him didn't want to turn around.

"Yes... yes, very good."

"Excellent," John chuckles into Sherlock's ear. He starts a trail of kisses down Sherlock's back.

"I'm going to take off your trousers to rub at your legs. Stay laying down just like you are."

John, at this point quite an expert at removing Sherlock's trousers, had the job done quickly.

He then starts firmly pressing his knuckles into the backs of Sherlock's thighs, working them up and down. He also spends a few moments rubbing at Sherlock's calves and feet. Then, he starts doing long drags of his hands all the way up and down Sherlock's legs, rubbing circles as his goes, and (since Sherlock had shown approval of the massage going in this direction) stretching his fingers to teasingly brush them against Sherlock's crotch every time he got to the tops of Sherlock's thighs. He even trails them up to Sherlock's waist and rubs circles right in the dips of his pelvis bone.

Sherlock smiled and closed his eyes, focussing only on John's lips on his back. He bucked his hips up to give John better access to his fly. He noticed John was efficient and handy, but that was hardly surprising as he had repeated the process over a hundred times by now.

Satisfied groans escaped Sherlock's lips. Tension he wasn't even aware of slipped away under John's fingers. And every time John grazed his fingers over his crotch, Sherlock let out a low hiss. Oh this felt amazing, fantastic.

"Fantastic..." Sherlock mumbled in the pillow.

He felt John shift and felt John's shirt press into his back in the next moment.

"What did you say?"

Sherlock rather felt John's breath than actually hearing it. John's voice was so low and husky, it was almost difficult to hear him. Luckily, Sherlock paid the highest attention to John's mouth.

"Feels fantastic." Sherlock mumbled again.

John kissed the shell of Sherlock's ear.

"Good. I'm happy to do it. It's a whole different way of getting to know your body, and a different way of taking care of you. I like being able to do this, knowing there are actions I can do to care for you. Being able to do things like this not because I have to prove my feelings for you, I know that you know how I feel, but just because making you feel good like this makes me happy."

"I've always felt there was something truly intimate about massage. You're laying yourself open to another person, they have control over your body and muscles. In that way, it's a bit like sex. However, unlike sex, it's a one-way act, giving pleasure to one person without receiving any in return- at lease receiving no physical pleasure in return. At least for me, I can't receive a massage from someone I don't trust, and I only give massages to people I really care about. For both I need to feel comfortable enough with the person to desire that level of intimacy with them. Neck and shoulder rubs I would trade with the guys in the army, that's fairly casual, but a full-body massage like this..." John presses kisses down the line of Sherlock's cheek to where his mouth is just peeking out from the pillow, "well the person I do this with could only be the person who I let fuck me. Which at this point, is only you."

John kisses and licks at the bit of Sherlock's mouth he can reach. At the same time he squeezes his hand under Sherlock's hips to reach his cock and keeps up the teasing brushes.

Sherlock listened to John's monologue about massages. He felt very privileged and proud when John said he was the only one John would let him fuck, though it was obvious and logical. They were engaged for God's sake. Nevertheless, Sherlock felt the fuzzy, warm feeling inside him grow and he smiled.

The teasing touches on his crotch and the unsuccessful kisses were maddening though. He didn't succeed in touching John with only his hands flapping around near his sides. So Sherlock felt the need to change the situation, though he was very comfortable.

First, he moved his shoulder up, pressing against John's. John quickly caught up on the hint and raised himself enough for Sherlock to roll around. His still slightly oily and relaxed skin felt pleasant, yet a bit sticky, on the sheets. He lay his head on the pillow and looked John over. Then, he pulled him in for a kiss.

"I think you are rather overdressed."

Sherlock casually began opening John's buttons of his button-down. When they were all open, Sherlock slid his hands under the fabric over the smooth skin of John's shoulders. Then, he kisses John again. His hands slid down to the gap of air between them and opened John's fly. Then, he teased the skin above his pants all the way round and cupped his bum under the fabric of his trousers.

John smiles into the kiss, but pulls back.

"If you're planning on collecting your prize from our game, remember you can't fully remove my shirt. You'll have to work around it. I should probably make you rebutton it to play fairly, but I'll be lenient with you this time."

John leans down and nips lightly at Sherlock's lips.

"So what's it to be, my love? Your prize was getting to be in charge for the rest of the day and evening. My commanding officer who apparently can't keep his hands out of his subordinate's trousers."

John grabs one of Sherlock's hands and brings it around to the front of his pants, pressing it down over his cock to feel the length hardening under it, just to emphasize the point. John then moves off of Sherlock and kneels on the bed- back straight, hands clasped behind his back in military stance. He would be the picture of respect and obedience if it wasn't for his smirk and the wicked gleam in his eyes.

"What do you want from me, Sir? I've been assigned to you for your personal use, and I hope to satisfy. The boys in the camp say you are a harm man to please, but I look forward to the challenge. What service may I provide to please you?"

Sherlock crossed his hands behind his head and smirked. His eyes wondered over John's appearance and he licked his lips. His cock hardened in his pants by feeling John's just a moment ago and by this sight. John, army attitude, shirt open and hanging around his waist, showing John's chest and open fly. And then John's face. That smirk and wicked eyes... Sherlock gasped and exhaled slowly. Then he got up and knelt in font of John.

"Do the boys in the camp really say so? That is a very generous offer, Doctor. But indeed that was the bargain of our... let's call it... arrangement. Well, then. Seems like 'your commanding officer who apparently can't keep his hands out of his subordinate's trousers' is in charge of you today and tonight. My first command for you: lie down."

Sherlock held his voice completely professional and serious, though his expression leaked sometimes. His voice was low and commanding, he thought it was appropriate

"Yes, sir."

John complied and lay down where Sherlock just had laid. Sherlock turned and climbed over John, shins either side of John's thighs. Sherlock bent down and kissed the skin that just peeked above the waistband of his pants. He went up with his kisses until he reached the first button. He moved up and did the same with every button. In-between buttons, he asked:

"Did the boys from the camp tell you more about my reputation? That I cannot keep my hands out of my subordinate's trousers, for example-" Sherlock emphasised the words 'trousers' and 'hands' by rubbing John's crotch through his pants. "That I am hard-" another rub "man to please? Who came up with that? Was it Jenkinson? Answer truthfully, that's an order!"

Sherlock arrived at the top button and whispered the order against John's lips, just before kissing him properly.

"Whatever your answer is, I want you to know that I didn't do anything with the other boys. It's just you."

((Couldn't help but make it fluffy again :3 I'm not very good at the commanding thing))

((Have I ever complained about fluffy? :) ))

John gasps against Sherlock's lips.

No sir, I didn't hear that you treated your subordinates that way, unlike many commanding officers. I heard that you had never taken anyone for your pleasure. That's where you got the reputation of being hard to please. Word has it you've had multiple people approach you, but showed no desire for any entertainment other than your work. They say you're untouchable."

John raises a hand and lays it gently over Sherlock's heart. His face has gone soft and tender.

"When I heard that, I couldn't stay away. You became a mystery, calling to me like a siren. I wanted to learn who you really were, beyond the rumors. I asked specifically to be assigned this position, just so I could be with you. It's taken me years to work up high enough to get the job. I want to be yours, in any way you'll have me, sir. I'll be yours, sir, just yours. I'm bound to you now, for as long as you want me. I don't want to serve any other officer."

Then the wicked smirk returns, and John trails kisses along Sherlock's jaw to whisper roughly in his ear.

"I mean that, sir. Should you ask it, you may have me any way you want me, as many times as you want. If requested, sir, I can tell you my credentials, give you a list of what services I have been told I particularly excel at. I can assure you, my reference is very reliable- a master of observation, and not one to lie about the aptitude of another's skills. The last time I serviced him, he called my hands 'fantastic.' Normally when I work him with my mouth, he's rendered speechless."

"Any way." Sherlock sighed faintly. John offered himself in any way he wanted. The man who always knew what he wanted, was overflown by the possibilities. He wanted everything. He wanted all of John, all at once.

"I am almost jealous of that man. That man that has enjoyed your gifts multiple times must be a happy man. And yet you are here. Well, go on then, give me your credentials. I am curious of your secret talents."

Now it was Sherlock's time to hiss and whisper in John's ear under him. With his fingers, he feathery stroked over the skin of John's neck.

"Rendered speechless, you say?" Sherlock cocked an eyebrow. "I have my own reliable resources and from what I've heard was the situation of that encounter a bit different. The man was forced to be silent because the circumstances were tricky and the risk of being caught was very high. So that credential isn't good enough for me. I want you to reclaim that reputation."

Sherlock lowered his voice to its lowest.

"Render me speechless."

John moves as fast as if he were in a fight. He flips Sherlock over onto his back and straddles him. He pins Sherlock's arms above his head, intertwining their fingers.

He starts out working Sherlock's neck, taking his time moving up and down lightly, then randomly biting down sharply to make Sherlock gasp of hiss.

He then starts moving down to Sherlock;s chest. When he gets too low to keep holding Sherlock's hands, he lets his fingers lightly trail down Sherlock's arms, causing goosebumps to rise. He works on Sherlock's nipples- biting them, and then soothing them with his tongue. He even tries humming with one between his lips.

Then Sherlock's bellybutton which got a quite thorough fucking from John's tongue as he held down Sherlock's hips, loving the feeling of the other man squirming beneath him.

Then finally John gets to Sherlock's crotch, only to by-pass his cock completely and go straight for his balls instead. He licks and sucks, at one point going even further back and kissing around Sherlock's ass. He moves to the very insides of Sherlock's thighs, kissing and biting, and letting his hair brush against Sherlock's cock.

Finally, John feels Sherlock lose patience- he receives a sharp tug to his hair, and an order (in a barely controlled voice) to move things along. He chuckles, his plan seems to be working well. He takes Sherlock into his mouth and groans, closing his eyes happily. Sherlock jerks up briefly, but quickly stills himself. This gives John an idea though.

Attempting to not remove his mouth from Sherlock's cock, John guides Sherlock so that he is sitting on the edge of the bed, and John is kneeling on a pillow on the floor. John then pulls Sherlock's hips forward, guiding him all the way into John's mouth. Then he pushes Sherlock's hips back, sucking as Sherlock slides out to just his tip. He repeats, steadily increasing the pace to a comfortable rhythm, guiding Sherlock in fucking his mouth.

Sherlock gasped when John attacked him, pinning his arms and hips down to the bed. But he wanted to make it difficult for John to really shut him up and thus he started to talk.

"So you've waited all this long, huh? All those years to work up to thísssss-" Sherlock hissed when he felt John's lips on his Adam's apple, but he continued.

"I did the same. Not working up, but keep you in my vision, recommend you when I saw the chance." Another hiss and gasp when John bit down his nipple and soothed it with his tongue. "Ah, tongue-" Sherlock couldn't help a whimper.

"I knew you were.. were different. Than the others. the others- They won't work with me." Talking got harder when John arrived at his belly button. His voice was pitching up slowly and his breathing pattern fast.

"You showed courage. And interest. I decided to dance around you for some time, watch you move around the barracks, the washing and the nursery and God damn just move on will you! That's an order!"

Sherlock couldn't help it, John was teasing around so long that Sherlock lost his patience. His cock had been twitching every time John brushed with his hair over his shaft and when his tongue twirled over his balls, but now it needed serious attention. So when he got that attention, Sherlock closed his eyes and groaned deeply.

"Oh God."

He felt the vibration of John's humming around his dick and he jerked a bit up, immediately realising his mistake. He stilled and was surprisingly guided to the edge of the bed. John did a miraculous job keeping him in his mouth all the way. Sherlock bit his lip and moaned on their way. They finally found a steady rhythm. With every thrust in John's mouth, Sherlock said less and less coherent things.

"I thought I'd maybe get injured- just to feel you caring for me- to feel your hands- your fingers - oh GOD your tongue, did that master of deduction mention your tongue- just- Oh-"

Sherlock squeezed John's shoulders as he came with a loud groan. He gasped a few times when a second wave hit him. Then, he flopped back on the bed, panting and enjoying his post-coital state with closed eyes. Nothing clever went through his mind. His mind was reduced to the simplest words of satisfaction. Eventually, he spoke, waving his finger in the air.

"That reference of yours, that bloke, he was too modest about your skill. Absolutely."

John chuckled and slid up the bed, lying next to Sherlock.

"Was he now? I'll have to complain to him about that at some point."

John stared down at Sherlock, love and affection clear on his face. He brushed some hair from Sherlock's forehead, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

"My officer. I didn't know you wanted me so much. I'm flattered, honored," John lay down, resting his head on Sherlock's chest, "You know now that you have my heart, and there is not another person in this world I would rather trust to care for it. I eagerly look forward to all the adventurers we will have together."

John does his best to wait politely for Sherlock to fully recover his senses. However, this game has left him as achingly hard as it had Sherlock, and waiting was not something he was finding easy. So John carefully takes his cock and strokes it a few times. He closes his eyes and gives a soft moan. Then finds his hand trapped in an iron grasp, and a dangerously calm looking Sherlock staring down at him.

"Captain, did I say you could relieve yourself?"

"N-no sir," John breathes out.

"Then what made you think it was acceptable for you to deny me the pleasure of bringing you to orgasm myself?" Sherlock whispers in a low, dangerous voice, "You said that I was allowed to have you in any way I desired, yet you would keep from me that which I desire most?"

John trembles under Sherlock, "I'm sorry sir. I was not thinking. Please, my greatest desire is to be given pleasure by you. Do with me as you wish- I am yours and I trust you."

"I always want you." Sherlock responded softly to John's wonder.

"I always want you."

He repeated, now growling and crawling over John. He snaps Johns hands together and pins them down with one hand and. The other roughly skims over John's torso. Then, Sherlock attacks John's neck with sweet kisses, varied with sharp nips and soothing of tongue. He hoped that would distract John enough that he didn't notice Sherlock's fingers that were slowly popping John's buttons open. He still wore that damned shirt and Sherlock wanted to feel John's chest under his fingertips and lips, so it had to go.

But he was stopped. John's rock hard cock brushed against his thigh and good Lord, that was hard. Sherlock understood from that that John wouldn't last long, so he released John's hands and shirt, gave him a quick kiss on the lips and spread John's legs.

Sherlock, the tease, couldn't help but press three kisses around John's base, before he took John in, all in one go. Sherlock did nothing 'special' but bobbing his head up and down the first two strokes. Then, he sucked a bit, feeling John impossibly harden on his tongue. He felt familiar hands in his hair and hips bucking up, so Sherlock made work of it and started a steady rhythm.

John lasted all of seconds under Sherlock's ministrations. He came with a cry, yelling out Sherlock's name. He lay panting and gasping on the bed, knuckles white where they were tangled in the sheets.

As soon as he was able to, John sat up and pulled his shirt off. He quickly tugged Sherlock into his arms so he could wrap himself around the other man. He breathes in the scent of Sherlock's skin and lays down again, pressing gentle kisses to Sherlock's neck.

"Love you 'sir,'" John says softly, using his normal voice rather than the obedient tone he had been effecting this whole time.

He nuzzles his face into Sherlock's shoulder.

"We still have a bit over an hour until sunset, and you have worn me out quite nicely. Lay here with me?"

Sherlock marvelled at John’s face while he came. He had seen John’s face millions of times, but John’s ‘climax face’ was his favourite, because he knew he was the one who caused John such pleasure.
He collapsed with John on the bed. Sighing satisfied, he stroked John’s messed hair while John kissed his neck sweetly and irregularly.

“Have I now?”

Sherlock broke into a proud smile. He guided John up to his lips and tried to kiss him, which wasn’t easy because he smiled too much.

“But of course. Though I do feel like showering later.”

Sherlock got up and tugged at the covers. He lay down beside John, dropping the covers over them. John’s eyes stood blissful and gazed in Sherlock’s pair. Sherlock crouched closer to feathery caress John’s cheek with his fingertips.

“Love you too.” Sherlock whispered, not meeting John’s eye. He was still a bit uncomfortable admitting his feelings.

After taking a short nap, John woke and glanced at the clock- perfect, just enough time for them to both shower. Sherlock had actually dozed off slightly, which made John feel slightly guilty about waking him up. Oh well, he'd just have to get Sherlock to sleep again tonight.

John then grinned, coming up with a brilliant plan to wake up his lovely detective. He grabbed a pillow and smacked Sherlock in the face with it.

"Up, up! You have a case to solve, lazy daisy! No time for snoozing!!!"

John bounced over so he could bend down to plant a messy kiss onto Sherlock's ear.

"Come on, or I'm stealing the first shower!"

((Ok, so apparently John has decided to be totally immature and obnoxious)

((First feeling guilty, then smashing him in the face with a pillow? xD))

Dozing off, Sherlock saw vague images of a dream in the dark of his eyes. A pursuit, danger, excitement. Sherlock stirred on the bed. They were infiltrating a building. And then something hit him in the head and something tickled his ear.

Sherlock woke up with a shout. His hand swung tense to his right to attack his attacker. But Sherlock soon realised, his reflexes were unnecessary. He did tackle John on the bed, towering over him and straddling his lap.
Cheekily, Sherlock smiled down.

“Gotcha!”

((Sherlock is as immature as John ;)

((Haha, they're so cute :) ))

John laughs, sitting up and wrapping his arms around Sherlock.

"That's how you deal with someone attacking you in your sleep? Tackling them to the bed and straddling them naked? Thank goodness I sleep with you, or I'd worry myself mad about whether I needed to be jealous of late night burglars."

John then presses a light kiss to Sherlock's lips.

"That said, I should wake you up like this again, at some time when we're not in a hurry and can have a bit more fun. For now though, go shower off," John lightly shoves Sherlock, "your hair makes it very clear that you've just woken up after a round of fantastic sex. It makes you far too adorable and tempting to go out in public. If you leave it like this, I cannot be held accountable for being unable to resist dragging you into dark corners and distracting you from your case."

Sherlock giggled with John.

"Hmmmmm it's a shame I have to miss the continuation of this ánd surprised sex in dark corners. Don't hold out that kind of fantasies for me, John, or I'll certainly make them come true."

Sherlock lets John go and crouches to the end of the bed.

"But this case needs my utmost professional behaviour." Sherlock glanced back with the same cheeky grin then putting up an exaggerated serious face, showing he was half serious. He got up and without looking back walked to the bathroom, showing his naked rear end for John's enjoyment. Cold air was closing upon him. He counted the seconds, waiting for John to catch up on him.

John watches Sherlock walk off. He knows that Sherlock is doing this on purpose just to tease him, and for some reason that makes it harder to ignore the teasing.

10, 11, 12, 13, 14...the room was cold and John saw goosebumps starting up on Sherlock's legs. Leaving his fiance standing in the cold would just cruel of him, would it? He couldn't do that.

John quickly hops off the bed and rushes over to where Sherlock was standing right in the doorway to the attached bathroom.

"Damn you," he says, wrapping his arms around Sherlock from behind.

"We [i]cannot[/i] fool around in the shower, you know? We don't have time. You do actually need to be on your best behavior, because this is one case that seems to be all brain work and no legwork, so this one's all on you. At least focus for the rest of the evening, one you're done with that I'll work on finding appropriately dark corners and spacious closets. No playing Downton Abbey until after your work is done."

“Naturally, John. I wasn’t planning on anything. That’s why I wanted to shower. Appearing sticky and all sexed up for the Count isn’t how I roll, you should know that. On top of that: we’ll probably need our strength for the case tonight.”

Sherlock grinned and turned around, braking the warm embrace. He glanced John all over.
“Though it is hard to hold myself back. You make me dangerous, looking like this. I’m very much looking forward to dark corners and closets tonight.” Sherlock stepped closer to John, dangerously close. He remembered his statement of earlier and recollected himself.

“Hop, get into the shower before I’ll change my mind.”

John stepped in the shower and managed the water. Sherlock just stood outside for a little while, looking at John. His messy hair flattened under the water beam, droplets dropping down his face and body. Sherlock swallowed. No matter what John thought about himself, Sherlock thought John was gorgeous.

At last, he joined John under the shower and was greeted by warm water rolling down his back.

“And John… What is Downton Abbey?”