John came up the stairs with his shopping bags. Sherlock was no where to be seen. John was hoping that Sherlock wouldn't be in a mood when he resurfaced from where ever he was hiding. It had been about a week since the last case, and John could see the tell tale signs of boredom starting to creep into Sherlock's actions.
Which meant anything could happen. John started putting the shopping away and caught a glimpse of Sherlock out of the corner of his eye as he made his way out of their bedroom.
John was surprised. When he left Sherlock was in his dressing gown and pyjamas. Now he was fully dressed in his black dress pants and silk black dress shirt. His hair was perfectly coiffed and he had sat down on the couch.
A glimpse of color made John pause. He looked at Sherlock who conveniently happened to look away as John straightened up from the fridge.
"Hey, look at me. Is that blood on your face?"
Sherlock didn't answer but put his feet up on the couch and drew up his knees, resting his head between them, hiding his face.
John wasn't in the mood for elusiveness and guessing games. He grabbed Sherlock by the hair and pulled his head up. And promptly let the curls go slack in his hand as Sherlock stared up at him wide eyed and open mouthed.
With very red lips.
"Are-are you wearing lipstick?" The question was out before John could stop it. Of course he was. Perfectly applied very bright very red lipstick.
"Yup." Sherlock replied, popping the "p" and barely showing the hint of a smirk as John stared, mesmerized.
It was so bright. Compared to all the dark in Sherlock's wardrobe and the paleness of his skin, the only color was Sherlock's lips. And while it should look out of place, somehow it fit Sherlock perfectly.
John was going to ask why, but for some reason, the words wouldn't come out. It didn't matter why, not when Sherlock was laying on the couch with his head still in John's hand, and his eyes were blown wide, with his shirt unbuttoned just so and-oh.
Oh.
John knelt down next to Sherlock and ran his free hand down the side of Sherlock's face and down his neck, resting it on his chest. Heartbeat, elevated.
John smirked as he moved his hand down Sherlock's body and stopped at the obscenely tight pants that were getting tighter as John rested his hand on Sherlock's crotch. Then a slight squeeze parted those bright red lips in a gasp.
A couple of seconds of silence and then a throaty sentence from Sherlock. "Do you know what the name is for this shade of lipstick?"
John shook his head.
Sherlock licked his lips. "Ravish me red."
John smiled and moved his hand up to the button on Sherlock's trousers. "Oh, I have every intention to do just that."
And he most certainly did.