Sherlock Holmes could hear the bass drum from two doors down, before he realized the infuriating sound was coming from 221, most likely 221B as Mrs Hudson didn't listen to such music... The tall brunet walked into the apartment, following the sound grating against his ears as it got louder. Now he could make out singing, if one could call it that, and... was that John singing along?
"He was a skater boy / She said see you later boy / He wasn't good enough for her / Now he's a super star / Slamming on his guitar / Does your pretty face see what-"
John Watson turned as Sherlock graced the top step, in the middle of an air guitar riff, and went bright red.
"Oh hi Sherlock," the blond said quietly, rushing over to the speaker blasting Acril Lavigne's Skater Boi to turn it off. "Didn't expect you for another couple of hours."
His flatmate gave him a pointed look, raising an eyebrow. "What do you call that?"
"Um... Well that's Avril Lavigne. Super pretty singer?" John was staring at his feet, looking to Sherlock like a small child who had been naughty.
"They didn't need the help I had anticipated at the Yard, so Lestrade sent me home."
"You never just come home, are you ok?"
Sherlock strode over to his favorite skull and hoisted it up, looking into the cavities where eyes once were, decidedly not responding to John.
After a pause, John asked, "do you want dinner, then? I think Mrs Hudson invited us down…"
Still no response from his flatmate, so he cleared his throat and announced "I'll be downstairs if you need me, then."
As he took his leave, Sherlock couldn't help but turn to watch. This sudden sentiment inside him was new, very new, and he couldn't figure out what had caused it. Out of curiosity, he turned the speaker back on, only to hear a deep, gravely voice say "Just lay your head in daddy's lap you're a bad girl" before a loud guitar started up. He shut the speaker back off. This was what John had been doing since he left at six that morning? Dancing around the flat to this Lavigne girl? Somehow the thought of watching John dance again stirred up more emotions in Sherlock's stomach, and he didn't know what to do about it.
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John returned an hour later, having watched an episode or too of Doctor Who with Mrs Hudson, to Sherlock staring up at the ceiling while laying on the couch. The blond took his usual seat in an armchair across the room after making two cups of tea and depositing one on the table next to Sherlock. He wanted to ask about his friend's day, but knew it wouldn't lead to quality conversation, just awkward silence. Sometimes Sherlock just didn't want to talk. Still, John had stuff to tell Sherlock.
"Mrs Hudson and I bought one of those Wii's that are so popular in America, and a couple dance games if you want to play."
Sherlock mumbled a reply.
"She wants to do a light workout so we'll be playing every other day or so."
Despite himself, Sherlock was getting lost in John's words.
"Of course, you're welcome to join us; I bought three remotes." John had finished what he wanted to say, so the doctor resigned himself to silence until Mrs Hudson came up to play Just Dance with him.
After a few minutes, Sherlock said, "John, keep talking."
"What?" His blue eyes looked inquisitively at the brunet, who just happened to be super cute...
"Keep talking. Say something, anything. Just talk." Sherlock looked over to find John looking at him, and he quickly looked away.
"Um. I cleaned my room today?"
"You clean your room every day."
The ex-army doctor was now staring at his flatmate, not sure what he was expecting from him. As if on cue, Mrs Hudson started up the stairs, knocking lightly before she came into the flat.
"Are you ready to dance, Mrs Hudson?" John asked, starting the process of hooking up the Wii and Just Dance 2.
"As ready as I'll ever be, dear," the older lady responded.
John queued up the game, blushing as he felt Sherlock's gaze on him. The consulting detective had been acting strange lately, and he had an idea of what had happened.
"What song do you want to play first?" The blond cycled slowly through the songs, until Mrs Hudson finally asked for Cher's "The Shoop Shoop Song (It's In His Kiss)".
Sherlock couldn't help but stare, almost shamelessly, at John as he danced. When the song ended, he was quick to return his gaze to the ceiling, as well as make his face as blank as possible.
"Do you want to play, Sherlock?" Mrs Hudson asked after they had played The Rolling Stones' "Sympathy For The Devil" and The Hit Crew's "Holiday". "I need a short rest."
John was breathing a little heavier than usual, and had a light sheen of sweat over his forehead, but seemed willing to continue playing if he had a partner.
"Fine," Sherlock said, much to the surprise of his landlady and flatmate.
"Really? Alright, let's play "Girlfriend"," John said.
"Isn't that that Lavigne girl again?" Sherlock questioned as he tied the remote around his wrist. Whatever John wanted was fine by him, of course.
"Yep. And this dance is a duet, so you be the blue girl and I'm the pink girl."
"Hey hey you you / I don't like your girlfriend / No way no way / I think you need a new one"
Sherlock began to deduce John's motives for picking this song, unless he genuinely just liked it... and then John began to sing along, softly, almost under his breath. It took the brunet everything he could muster just to continue playing the game. What was this sudden sentiment?
John knew Sherlock was deducing his reasoning, but figured just once he'd let it go. His flatmate was dancing, albeit to a game, with him. The thought alone was enough to make his head spin.
"And, hell yeah I'm the motherfucking princess / I can tell you like me too / And you know I'm right / She's like, so whatever / You could do so much better / I think we should get together now / And that's what everybody's talking about"