John had just entered the kitchen with both arms full of groceries when an unusual sight caught his eye – Sherlock, sitting on the living room carpet with his legs crossed, palms facing up and resting on his knees, eyelids down. The typical yoga posture. Not only that: he was wearing an outfit that John had never seen before – a grey tank top and matching loose trousers.

After a few seconds of bewilderment, John stared at the wall with narrow eyes and eventually shrugged the matter off, unloading the food from the bags while glancing at his roommate from time to time.

Sherlock hadn't moved one bit since John's return, and John was starting to think that he'd lost himself deep down his Mind Palace… which required new clothes and bare feet now, for some reason. His respiration was slow and calm, so much that John sometimes wondered if he was breathing at all. But what stroke him the most was how soft he looked. There was something… ethereal about him and the way the light was playing with his lean figure. The warm sunrays of the late summer afternoon gave his dark curls a gentle halo and his pale skin a velvet-like look.

When he was finally done with the groceries (and his discreet staring), John took off his jacket and stepped into the living room to hang it on the coat rack, clearing his throat as he turned to Sherlock… who remained imperturbable.

With a little sigh, John skirted around him and sat at the table in front of his laptop. He opened the bookmark to his blog, logged in, and started typing.

"New hobby?" he asked after a while, eyes fixed upon the screen.

"New sport."

John scoffed. "Sport?... You?..."

"Is it that much of a surprise?"

"I guess not." He paused in his typing. "Yoga, though?"

"Problem?"

"Nope, not at all," John smirked.

His comment was welcomed by an imperceptible shrug from Sherlock's delicate and round shoulders. "Helps me think."

"Mmm hmm, I noticed."

A few silent seconds passed, John's slow fingers on the keyboard being the only sound one could hear in the room.

"Are you writing about it?"

"Yuuuuup."

He glanced at Sherlock's perfectly straight back and caught him shake his head slightly. He could not see it, but he could feel the tiny smile stretching Sherlock's lips. John grinned for himself and kept on typing, eyes shifting from time to time between his computer and Sherlock's silhouette on his right.

God, his nape. Strong, and yet so exquisitely fine. And these dark curls swirling uncontrollably above his pale skin… Jesus. John sighed with envy, licking his lips, and gave Sherlock's neck another quick look. The daylight was declining, and the raking sunbeams highlighted the little freckles he loved to kiss and connect with his fingertips.

What a beauty, John thought.

Checking the few lines he'd just written, he pouted and glanced at Sherlock once again, turning on his seat.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Sport?... You?..." Sherlock commented, repeating John's words from a moment earlier with an audible smirk.

"Well…" John got to his feet and slowly moved to Sherlock's side, fingers brushing against his curly hair before sitting down next to him with a small grunt. "… there's a first time for everything."

"Mmm hmm."

John smiled at Sherlock who had kept his eyes closed. Gosh, what a gorgeous profile. Nose, cheekbones, lips, jaw… everything was so damn perfect. He could look at him for hours, and kiss every inch of his face at least as long.

"John?"

"Mmm?"

"Close your eyes and concentrate."

John grinned and licked his lower lip. "Alright."

Obeying his new-found yoga professor's directives, he rested his hands on his knees and cleared his throat, taking a deep breath. After five seconds, he opened one eye to peek at Sherlock.

"John…"

"Alright, alright!" he chuckled, closing his guilty eye. But he could barely make it to ten seconds before looking at Sherlock again, who let out a long sigh.

"God, you're a terrible learner..."

John cracked a laugh and leaned against Sherlock's shoulder, turning his head to bury his nose and soft giggles into the luscious curls. Sherlock couldn't help but smile and soon joined him, his deep voice vibrating against John's lips.

"And I'm not even sorry…" John murmured in his ear, still laughing between kisses.

"You're hopeless."

John snorted and gave a louder chuckle, nudging him gently to knock him off balance and onto the ground.

"John!..." Sherlock cried with a disapproving tone, which melted into a high-pitched laugh as John slid onto him and nuzzled at his ticklish neck, their glee filling up the room for the rest of the day.