Just a little humor. Warning: porn.
His eyes were the darkest brown he'd ever seen - almost black. They drank him in greedily, a black hole, taking him down down down. John tore his own eyes away, focusing on the wall. "I just needed to get my laptop," he said thickly through his embarrassment. A draft was coming in through the window and John felt his skin bunch up as a shiver cascaded down his spine. "But I can see you're busy - "
And he was busy. Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective, was watching porn. The sounds that were emitting softly from the laptop speakers were lewd and suggestive: breathy moans and oh god yes's and the harsh sound of skin on skin. Sherlock didn't bother to turn off the sound, merely stared at John with his best 'I'm deducting something' face. Eventually, he shut the laptop and held it out. John shuffled forward, feeling extremely bare in his boxers and socks, and reached for the laptop. Sherlock pulled it away at the last moment, staring at his flatmate. "I found your porn folder," he said, quite unnecessarily.
"I - I see that, thanks," he coughed, looking away from those piercing eyes. "Can I have that, now?"
"Are you going to watch porn?" Sherlock asked curiously, "Because I didn't think you to be the type of man to watch porn, John."
"I've been single for three months," he said defensively, "And does it matter? Why were you going through my folders?"
Sherlock didn't answer that question, merely handed him the laptop wordlessly. He waited until John had taken several quick steps toward the stairs to speak. "You know, John, if you ever need to…release some tension…my door is always open." Just a statement of fact; no smug implications or hope. Sherlock was merely offering a service.
Somehow, that made it worse.