"For God's sake, Sherlock, cut the fuck out!"
Of course he didn't.
John groaned loudly accompanied with some more curses, sure enough Sherlock would hear him. John thumped a pillow over his head pressing it hard against his left ear and put an index finger of his in another. A minute or two passed when the sound of violin stopped. John sighed and let his head rest on the pillow instead of under it. Just as John started to get comfortable in the silence, Sherlock started playing a shrill, frantic note.
Now that was on purpose.
"For fuck's sake, Sherlock! I'm going to bloody murder you!" John shouted from Sherlock's- well- their bedroom. John stormed to the living room to find Sherlock had his back to their bedroom; head slightly tilted towards the violin (at that instant John wished to stomp on it and then throw it into Thames); his hands grasping it lightly yet firmly. His blue, velvety robe draped around his slender body making him look like some Greek God. If John hadn't been so outraged right now, he would have snogged him right there.
John stopped right behind Sherlock well aware that his partner had sensed his presence. John waited till Sherlock stopped playing to look at John. Sherlock turned and smirked at John. John's blond, somewhere graying hair had stood in all possible directions. His eyes drooping with heaviness that didn't escape Sherlock's scorching eyes.
"Oh, did I wake you?" He said with a cock to his eyebrow. Now he was teasing and John knew he played unfair. It was hard enough to hold back the impulse of snogging him. He was making things worse, testing his patience. John just stared at him.
"Why the look? It's 6.30, John, not 2 in the morning" Sherlock said in a tone that pretty much matched the tone of 'Grow up'.
John desired to kick in Sherlock's guts now. With shoes. He wouldn't even mind using one of those pumps Sarah used.
"Why the fuck would you wake me up when we slept TWO BLOODY HOURS AGO?" Suddenly John was shouting. But recounting Sherlock's expressions, he certainly had been expecting the outburst.
"We're out of milk" Sherlock had started to enjoy this. He tried hard not to smirk. Otherwise there was a chance that John would storm out and Sherlock wouldn't have anybody to bug.
"Why. The. Violin?" John pinched his nose.
"Keeps me occupied" Sherlock said indifferently tucking his chin on the violin again.
"I'm seriously avoiding punching in the face till you throw your teeth out" John said matter-of-factly.
"And you are also avoiding to snog me, aren't you, Doctor?" Sherlock said throwing his violin on the armchair carelessly and closing the space between him and John. He pulled John in his arms with a jerk and buried his head in the hollow of John's neck. Sucking deep, he made John shiver. For a moment John forgot what he was mad about. Slowly Sherlock moved his left hand cupping John's cheek, caressing. He moved to John's right shoulder leaving a trail of kisses as he progressed. John closed his eyes. Everything around him was all about Sherlock; Sherlock's hands wandering recklessly on his skin, his mouth possessively sucking John's shoulder, his distinct sweet smell mingled with the stinking smell of chemicals. Sherlock knew exactly what he had to do to put John's mind off of something. Kiss him recklessly like it's the end of the universe. John would give in eventually after brief resistance and they would end up having sex on couch, kitchen counter, against the wall, on the study table etc. John made Sherlock go wobbly in the knees, something nobody was able to do so. The same was the case with John.
But John, too, pretty well knew how Sherlock played unfair -like this- to distract John. But this time John was not going to give up till he gets what he wants. Sound, undisturbed sleep of last 72 hours.
John didn't reciprocate Sherlock's kisses. Sherlock on the other hand was getting more and more frustrated unable to pull out the reaction of John he always did in the situation like this. Finally he decided to attack John with an ultimate weapon of his that would surely break John down, the detective was sure. He adjusted his lips on the base of John's neck just above where John's collar would cover and grazed his skin; kissing, teasing, chewing. John shut his mouth to keep from moaning. Sherlock would leave a hickey clear enough that everybody in the vicinity would see it.
Sherlock as surprised as he was, pulled away to look at John.
"Are you, okay?" He said cocking his head to side, incapable to figure out why John wasn't reacting coherently.
John stared at him, recovering from Sherlock's kisses.
"Why are you mad at me?" Sherlock shoved John back and thumped his body on the sofa, clearly frustrated. He folded his hands on his chest looking like a five year old. John looked at his partner and smiled inwardly at how excellently he was having things done his way. He too sat on the sofa keeping space between them. Sherlock looked at him and the space between and sighed.
"You were playing violin, Sherlock, when you bloody well knew I haven't slept in last three days" he said and rested his heavy head, closing his eyes. Why did this have to be so hard always?, he thought.
"Sorry" Sherlock murmured in tiniest voice possible.
"Are you?" John said, exasperated.
"No" Sherlock looked awkward, unable to figure out what to do.
"I can bring you flowers, if that helps. Although, I don't understand how." He said expressions changing from earnest to mocking.
John didn't bulge from his previous position. Now that was something to worry about, Sherlock thought.
"I'll do the laundry" Sherlock said after a moment of thinking. John pressed lips together to keep from smiling.
"I will keep the kitchen counter clean for three days" Out of corner of eye, John saw Sherlock gravely thinking ways to impress John. Oh how much he adored this man!
"I will go out buy some milk" Sherlock said getting up from the sofa. John grabbed his partner's elbow and pulled him to the sofa, laughing at his personal edition of this bizarre, idiot human.
"Come here, you git" John pulled him closer to his body, closing the space between them, his hands exploring his man's legs, arms. He kissed Sherlock. Sherlock's rough, cupid-bow lips were keen on his, exploring every bit of John.
"You are still doing those things you just promised" John said breaking away to gulp in fresh air while Sherlock nibbled his neck.
"Until I'm forgiven" He said, in a huffing voice.
"You always are" John said grinning.
John realised after all it was not always bad to have things done Sherlock's way.