John lay in his armchair with his eyes closed, listening to the repetitive drip-drip-drip of the faucet while Sherlock sat hunched over his computer, typing slowly and methodically. No doubt he was listing the most common places that dust formed in their flat, or how many times he sneezed on Mondays. John's mouth curled softly into an affectionate smile. He loved these quiet mornings with Sherlock. His best friend. His…
The pitter - patter of the water and Sherlock's delicate fingers on the keys were the only sounds in the apartment, and John began to drift off as light breeze came in through the open window. He thought lazily and inexplicably of Sherlock's smooth skin as he drifted off to sleep.
It's all for good girls who love the way we're acting bad
John's head jerked forward as music hit his eardrums and the sound of heavy bass suddenly filled their flat. He looked around, dazed, and found that Sherlock had clicked on the radio, not bothering to switch to classical like he normally did. It seemed he had already forgotten that he had turned it on and was engrossed in his typing once more.
And every single hour that passes is feeling longer
For John, the mood of the room changed instantly. He shook his head to clear away the sleepy fog that surrounded his mind and kept his eyes fixed on Sherlock. Strong legs curled up on the chair so that he could rest his chin on his knee. Long, thin fingers pausing to stretch before continuing to type. Neck, pulsating as he swallowed. Lower lip bitten in concentration. Brow furrowed and hair wild from running his fingers through it in frustration.
All of you, I'll give you all of me
A wave of shock coursed through John's body as the beat continued to pulse through the room. He let out a staggering breath, barely realizing that he had been holding it in, and squeezed his eyes shut. Sherlock…
Throw me on the bed and love me to death
His eyes snapped open, taking in the sight of Sherlock once more, unchanging and breathtakingly gorgeous.
All I needed was I love you, swear I never knew it…
When had he gotten up?
Maybe this one will get me to where my heart stops
John blinked and found that he was standing behind Sherlock's chair. He was taking deep, ragged breaths and his entire body was alert.
His hands gripped the back of the chair and spun it around in one powerful, swift movement. Their eyes met, and Sherlock, apparently surprised to find that John was even in the room, blushed at the look of pure arousal on John's face.
Throw me on the bed and love me to death
Sherlock raised one eyebrow, and John pounced.