(Holmes and Dr Watson are discovered)
John pushed open the door of his bedroom and peeped round it. He hoped that Sherlock had finally gone to bed, even if it was eight o clock in the morning, John couldn't think back to when Sherlock had last taken a nap at the very least. The door of Sherlock's room was closed which didn't provide very many clues really, Sherlock rarely left his door open in case someone happened to walk in.
John crossed the sitting room to the kitchen, thinking of making himself eggs and bacon, he was about two steps away from the kitchen when he spied Sherlock out of the corner of his eye, curled up on the sofa, apparently fast asleep. This sight stirred something unusual inside John, not the normal burning desire he had to pin Sherlock to the wall and kiss him until they were both breathless, but a sort of protective instinct. Sherlock looked so vulnerable, all curled up like that, he seemed so exposed and defenceless. It made John want to throw his arms around the extraordinary detective and shield him from any kind of harm so he could sleep in peace.
He dithered by the sofa, wondering what on earth he was supposed to do in this situations before he decided to throw all caution to the winds. He lay down beside Sherlock and curled into his back, fitting their bodies together and wrapping his arms round him so he felt he was protecting Sherlock completely. This was a new thing for them, their relationship was currently firey and passionate. Tender moments like this never really came into it. John's movements had roused Sherlock and he opened his eyes and turned over, his blue eyes fixed upon John's face, burning into him. John blushed. He knew that expression.
"Sher" he began awkwardly but Sherlock had cut him off already before he could even finish his sentence.
"What do you think you're doing John?" he hissed, and before John even had a chance to formulate an answer, their lips were pressed together, desperately seeking more and more contact, hands pulled urgently at clothes and John broke the kiss for a moment to reply.
"Seducing you…" he said wickedly before yanking Sherlock's t-shirt roughly over his head.
Xxx
"Well," said Sherlock, leaning back with his head on John's chest. "Fucking in the living room, that's a new one, even for you John"
"Oh shut up" John muttered marvelling at the long lean bare body that was spread out in front of him. "It was fun though, he said as an afterthought"
Sherlock grinned up at him, his eyes glittering with some kind of playfulness before pulling sitting up and straddling John as he leaned down to kiss him again. John moaned and pulled Sherlock closer to him. Their lips met again, causing John's heart rate to double. Then…
"What the hell is going on?" came a voice from behind them.
John pushed Sherlock off him and stared up at a very very confused looking Lestrade, his eyebrows knitted together.
"I needed to speak to Sherlock, Mrs Hudson said to go right up and you're going at it!" he said in disbelief. "You two are impossible"
John could feel himself blushing a deep crimson, his cheeks growing hotter under Lestrade's accusatory stare, grabbing a pillow to disguise his modesty. Sherlock on the other hand, stood up in a business like way, still stark naked and said, "What was it you wanted Inspector?"