AN: Hello! I got the motivation to start writing again, oh my... This is in first person POV of Sherlock. Before Reichanbach Fall. In this sense of Johnlock, it is after John and Sherlock have established their feelings for each other. ;)
Chapter 1
I was laying on the couch, thinking. Thinking about where my cigarettes were. John and I haven't had a case in days, well actually just hours, but it felt like days. I was getting bored. I couldn't remember where I put my cigarettes, John hid them from me. I sat up, looking around the room, studying it.
There? No, not the fire place.
How about there? No, too close to John's personal items.
The fridge? No, last time I hid them there, they were disgusting to smoke.
I pushed myself off the couch and wandered around the flat, picking up the chairs and moving them. Searching for my nicotine. John was gone, at work or something. Maybe. I couldn't remember where he went.
I rolled up the rug, nothing. I stood up, back straight, getting frustrated.
"Think. Think. Think." I said to myself. "Think!"
I thought of every single hiding place I could think of. Pointer and middle finger on my temples, focusing. I inhaled sharply. Yes, I remember. Under the couch. I crawled down onto the floor, pushing the coffee table out of my way. I reached my arm under the couch and searched. I felt the pack and ripped it from under the couch. I stood up abruptly, shaking and smacking the pack off my opposite palm. Ripping off the plastic seal, I took a deep inhale of the pack, smelling the toxins.
Where was John? I glanced around. Still gone? Strange. He won't notice.
I pulled a cigarette out of the pack and smelled it. Yes, the wonderful smell of a cigarette, I missed it. I ached for it. Managing to find a lighter somewhere in the kitchen, I lit the cigarette and took a large puff from it. Holding the smoke in my lungs for a few seconds and then exhaling. It felt so good.
It wasn't enough, I needed more. I sat in my chair and finished the cigarette in record time, almost. I lit another. Then another after that. I needed more.
I was sitting in my chair, enjoying the tenth to last cigarette in the pack, when John burst through the door.
"What the hell are you doing?!" He yelled. John walked over to me and ripped the cigarette out of my hand. "Sherlock, smoking? Really? How did you find these? I got rid of all your secret stashes!"
"Not all of them." I said, snarky.
"I see that now. How many have you smoked?"
"Oh, I don't know. I think five?" All these useless questions were annoying me. What does it matter how many I smoked? I needed the nicotine.
"Five?" John scoffed. He stood there in amazement. Was he disappointed?
"Yes, possibly more. I can't remember."
"You? Sherlock Holmes? Can't remember something like that?"
I glared at him. Yes of course I remembered, but I didn't want him to be upset with me. John grabbed the pack and put it into his pocket.
"No more."
I rolled my eyes at him and put the last cigarette out. Stop it, I told myself. Be nice to him. Be. Nice.
"I'm sorry, John." I said as sincerely as possible.
"What did you say?" He looked back at me from the kitchen.
"I'm sorry."
"Right, okay. All right, well, just stop it, Sherlock. Just stop. You were doing so well."
"Yes, I will."
"Promise?" He asked, looking at me with his caring eyes. He put so much meaning behind such a simple word.
"Are we done here?" I said as I walked down to my bedroom and slammed the door behind me.
It was dark when I decided to leave my bedroom, the flat smelled as usual. Nothing moved. John fell asleep in his chair while typing up a blog from our recently solved case. I sat down across from him, reaching for his laptop before I sat down. I typed in the password with ease, he changed it monthly, but I always knew what it was. The paged loaded to his uncompleted blog. I scoffed at the title, he always thought of the worst titles names. Never accepting any of my suggestions. I saved the draft and browsed further at the other ones, the completed ones. John always made things more dramatic, to keep the readers I assume. I continued browsing.
After I would finish reading one case, I stared at John. Studying how he slept. It can't be comfortable in that chair, not at all. I could move him to the couch, but it might wake him. I should try anyway. I put the laptop down on the side table and got up, reaching for John's arm. As soon as I touched him, he woke up, startled.
"What are you doing?" John asked, still startled.
"I was moving you to the couch, you looked uncomfortable. I wanted to help." I responded carefully.
"I'm fine. I'll be in my room." He stood up, rubbing his eyes, and looking around. "Where is my laptop?" I handed it to him. "Sherlock, what did I tell you about looking through my laptop?" Disappointment in his voice.
"I was just reading."
"Yeah good well stop reading my laptop." John walked up to his bedroom. He was frustrated, I could tell by the way he stomped his feet and slammed the door.
I sighed and sat back down in my chair.
I was waiting for John to wake up, I made coffee for him as an apology for last night. I don't like upsetting him. I grabbed my violin and started composing a song I had been working on. I could hear the faint sound of John walking down the steps and into the kitchen.
"I made coffee." I said as soon as I felt John staring at me.
"Coffee?"
"Yes, coffee, for you." I pointed towards the cup with my bow. I put my violin away and poured him a cup. "Coffee." I smiled.
"Thank you." John returned the smile. I stared at him and he stared right back. John cleared his throat. "About last night, sorry, I didn't think I would fall asleep in the chair."
"No, it's fine. I just wanted you to be comfortable."
John walked to his chair and sat down, he grabbed the paper and started reading. I watched him carefully, he read every single word. Browsing through everything that could have the possibility of a case.
"Anything?" I asked, still staring at him.
"Nope, not today." He sighed and put the paper down. He rubbed his eyes and looked at me. "Has Lestrade called?" I shook my head, no. "Well someone might have sent you something. Have you checked your website?"
"No, everything is boring. Same things over and over; affairs, disappearances, nothing of interest."
John walked into the kitchen and open the fridge, I watched his every move. Once he opened the fridge he looked frustrated, he started tapping his foot.
"Sherlock, what the hell is this?" He said loudly.
"What?"
"I told you, Sherlock." Stern. "I bloody told you to knock off these damn experiments with my things!" John yelled. My body tensed, I didn't want to go near him. "Come here and clean this up." I didn't move. "Sherlock!" I ignored my body forcing me to stay still and walked towards him, I kept my distance. "What is this?" He asked, not looking at me.
"An experiment."
"What kind of experiment?" He growled, getting angrier.
"An important one, it could be important to us later."
"Important? So you have to use one of my favorite mugs?" John scoffed. "Clean it up."
"I'm sorry." I said, apologizing, looking down.
"Right, okay." He said as he slammed the fridge door. "I'm going out."
"John wait, please." I begged, looking at him. I hated disappointing him.
"No, I'll be back sometime." He walked down the stairs and left. I sighed and grabbed the mug from the fridge, starting to clean out the experiment.
John finally returned home after a few hours, looking refreshed. He didn't say anything to me once entering the flat. I left his mug on the kitchen table with a little note, apologizing again. He picked the mug up and sighed, he put it back down. He slowly walked over to me. I stood up and looked down on him, studying his face.
"I'm sorry about earlier. Just, stop it with the experiments on my things, Sherlock." He smiled up at me. I returned the smile.
He kissed me, I kissed back.
"It's not your fault." I said after we finished our kiss. "I should have known." I smiled slightly, not wanting to ruin this moment of ours.
"I got you something, while I was out. Your brother called, said he couldn't get ahold of you. Well, he didn't call me, he did the stalking thing again. Anyway, a case." John handed files to me, I didn't even realize he was holding them. "Looks promising." He smiled.
I looked through the files and flipped through them.
"Yes, promising indeed." I kissed him again. "Shall we?" I asked, heading towards the door.
He followed me, like always.