This is for nofirewithoutsparks for finishing that exam block! I DUN'T KNOW WHAT THAT IS BUT GREAT JOB SWEETIE! :DDD

I swear I'm working on the other stories.

Promise.

And I don't own the BBC Sherlock or "Paradise by the Dashboard Light"

I just love both. BOTH.

P.S. This is in kind of a weird perspective. It's 3rd person but not omniscient. Sherlock is the main focus. REMEMBER THAAAAAAAAT. It's a new thing I'm messing with. Essentially if it's not in quotes or descriptive then it's Sherlock's thoughts.

*flails*

oOoOo

John does not make noise, Sherlock notices one day. John also does not hum, nor does he think too loudly, and he even watches his godforsaken TV shows at a decent volume. So when John spends an entire week, a bleeding week humming a song Sherlock does not recognize, it's safe to say it irritates the living hell out of him.

He dances around the flat when he thinks Sherlock isn't there, and sings softly, swaying his hips and fuck, is that falsetto? Sherlock learned from Mycroft how easy it was to bug the flat, and while sweeping the flat for any bugs he thinks to place a couple of his own. So when John returns and he's not there, asleep, or whatever, he knows what John did. It's not creepy. Not at all.

Sherlock looks down, pawing gently at the slight rise in his trousers. He had meant to spend the day cleaning out his Mind Palace, but attempting to tidy up John's section (which took up more space than he was willing to let on) had only served to distract him. He had, of course, spent the entire night watching the footage of John when he's not around, and it had effectively stuck itself quite firmly in his Mind Palace, only adding to the chaotic mess that is John's section.

He pushes the thought out of his head, fingers laced under his chin as his thoughts drifted back to his tiny flatmate.

It's also safe to say that John is always masculine. Everything he does is manly; when he drinks at the pub with the boys, or even from the domestic way he makes Sherlock tea, to the color of his jumpers, and his fondness for hedgehogs. What would be seen as effeminate or even gay on anyone else is just sweet on John. That's what is so irritating about the man. He is so startlingly straight that if he didn't spend so long staring at Sherlock's arse, mouth, neck, arms, hell, everywhere on the bloody detective Sherlock would definitely believe he was straight.

And even if he was straight, Sherlock would do everything in his power to change his mind.

Which is exactly what he is doing now.

Sherlock checks the time briefly, counting down the seconds before John is scheduled to burst through the door.

5…4…3…2…1 and a half…1… .5… .4… .3…

John burst through the door, cheeks rosy from the cold weather outside, chattering brightly about his day as he took off his coat. He seems to be recounting a funny story that Sherlock can't seem to pay attention to.

It only pisses Sherlock off because not only was he abysmally wrong about the time, but John had a fantastic day and he wasn't the cause of it.

"Sherlock?" John inquires patiently, giving him a funny stare.

"What." Sherlock snaps back, immediately feeling embarrassed and rolling over on the couch to hide his flushed face. He feels even more embarrassed after noticing it in the first place because he is Sherlock fucking Holmes and why the fuck is he embarrassed and decidedly more sweary and what the absolute fuck is John talking about and-

"Sherlock!" Oh. John appears to be solemn now and of course it's because of Sherlock. The detective doesn't need to look at John to know that he's ruined his entire day, of course he has, and now John probably wants to leave and go back to that stupid clinic and sing that stupid fucking song and now he won't shut the fuck up about some dumb story and why is he so vibrant when he's with anyone other than Sherlock and-

"FUCK!" Sherlock yells, damn near flipping off the couch and storming out of the room. He goes up to his bedroom, and he's pissed and he has no idea why and John, John, John…

is knocking on the door.

Oh.

John is knocking on the door.

"Sherlock?" John's voice softens. Sherlock takes pride in that because it's the one John only uses around him. He's got several tones, but Sherlock's favourites are Doctor-John, Army-John, and Appeasing-Sherlock-John. The door clicks open and John walks in slowly, as if approaching a wounded animal. The analogy is not lost on Sherlock. John continues, raising his arms and brushing against Sherlock's, and oh he's now giving the taller man a hug and Sherlock feels a lump in his throat and

He looks down at John and realizes he's in love.

Fuck.

oOoOo

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I feel like it's kinda written weirdly. Herp derp.

That's how I imagine Sherlock falling in love. That's how I fall in like. I go from jealous for no reason to suddenly "lol oh hey I probably like this person. Well, damn."

LOLOLOLOL