Teatime
Sherlock´s blue dressing gown was all crumpled underneath his body as he lay on the couch, stretching out his limps. He hadn´t had a single case in almost two weeks. "Bored," he thought.
Suddenly, he heard the front door of 221B Baker Street being slammed and he could hear John rushing up the stairs. The seventh step of the staircase creaked under John´s foot, as usual. That blasted step. Sherlock kept his eyes closed, his hands put together and placed underneath his chin, as John walked into the living room, carrying a crocery bag.
"Sherlock, you all right?" said John when he saw Sherlock lying motionless on the couch. When Sherlock didn´t reply, he sighed and carried the bag into the kitchen.
"Did you get more milk?" shouted Sherlock.
"Yes," John shouted back.
Sherlock suddenly heard a shout from the kitchen, followed by an annoyed groan, and a few seconds later, John came storming into the living room.
"Sherlock, why is there a bag of intestines in the fridge?" asked John.
"If you know of a better place where to keep organs than the fridge, I´d like to hear about it," replied Sherlock, not even bothering to open his eyes. John gave an exasperated sigh and stormed back into the kitchen.
"Whatever. Do you want some tea?" asked John.
"Yes," Sherlock shouted back.
A few minutes later, Sherlock heard the kettle boiling. He stood up and walked into the kitchen and looked at John as he poured the hot water into two cups who lay on the kitchen table. John was wearing the outfit that Sherlock always liked so much, a plaid shirt and a pair of tight jeans. John´s back was facing Sherlock so he didn´t notice him approaching him. Sherlock was now right behind John so that he could smell the scent of his aftershave and the scent of his cheap shampoo. Sherlock wrapped his arms around John´s waist, John jumped up startled.
"Sherlock, what are you doing?" he asked confused.
"How´s the tea?" asked Sherlock, ignoring John´s question. "Is it hot?" he added flirtingly. John grinned as he turned around to face Sherlock. The tension was killing Sherlock as he looked deep into John´s blue eyes. Finally, he couldn´t resist. He pulled John closer to him and his lips met John´s in a passionate kiss. John looked a bit surprised at first until he allowed himself to sink into the kiss. Sherlock moved forward and pushed John against the kitchen table, knocking over the two teacups so that they landed on the kitchen floor.
They both ignored it, John ran his fingers through Sherlock´s dark, soft hair. Sherlock ripped off his blue dressing gown as they backed out of the kitchen and into the living room. John pulled himself away so that he could tear off his shirt. His chest was hidden underneath a white, see-through T-shirt. Sherlock couldn´t wait any longer for him. He helped John pull up his T-shirt and he pulled John close to him and into another lustful kiss. They tried making their way into Sherlock´s bedroom but somehow ended up landing on the couch. At that moment, they couldn´t care less. Sherlock began taking off his grey T-shirt as John struggled to take off his shoes.
"Leave them!" Sherlock shouted impatiently. John looked at him and back at the shoe he was untying.
"Yeah, you´re right," he said after a while. He lay down on top of Sherlock where their lips met yet again. Sherlock opened his mouth and let their tongues meet.
"Sherlock," moaned John when they pulled back and he began tracing his tongue down Sherlock´s neck and down to his pale chest.
John then pulled back and began unzipping his trousers, revealing his black underwear. Sherlock smiled as he began pulling down his pyjama bottoms.
"I love you, John," whispered Sherlock as John began kissing his face and neck.
"I love you, too," John whispered back. With their bodies entwined, John kissed Sherlock with another passionate kiss. Sherlock didn´t want this to end, he wanted to stay on the couch with John and kiss him over and over again.
"Sherlock," he heard John moaning again and again before he suddenly heard him shout: "Sherlock!"
Sherlock jumped up. He opened his eyes and looked around confused, unsure of his whereabouts. He lay alone on the couch in the living room in 221B Baker Street. His blue dressing gown was all crumpled underneath his body as he lay there with his legs snuggled up against his body. He suddenly sat up, just then realising what exactly he had been dreaming. "What the bloody hell was that?!" he thought to himself.
"Sherlock, why is there a bag of intestines in the fridge?" shouted John as he came storming into the living room. Sherlock didn´t reply, he merely looked at John as he stood in the middle of the living room. Sherlock felt a bit sick just by looking at him.
John gave Sherlock a bemused look.
"You okay, Sherlock?" he asked cautiously. "I heard you making some noise when I came back from the store." When Sherlock still wouldn´t answer, John gave up and sighed in exasperation.
"Whatever. Do you want some tea?" he asked. Sherlock´s eyes doubled. "Oh, no!" he thought. Without caring about the fact that he was still wearing his pyjamas, Sherlock jumped up from the couch and stared at John for second before he rushed out of the apartment, leaving John behind in the living room in utter confusion. He watched as Sherlock stumbled down the staircase and heard the front door of 221B being slammed shut. Finally, after a long silence, John shrugged his shoulders and went back into the kitchen.