Disclaimer: I most certainly do not own it. Nor do I make any money off of it.
(Boredom/not being able to sleep commenced, thus I attempted Sherlock-ness.)
Letting out a frustrated sigh, John swung the bathroom door closed with more force than needed. Sometimes he just wanted to fling that bloody phone into a wall. This was definitely one of those times.
It would always start out good. The touches got more frequent, the heat was more intense and the feelings deepened. And then with a sharp beep it was all over. Sherlock's mind was already reeling as he reached for his phone, eager for something that was apparently more stimulating than Watson. It ended that way more often than not. Which meant it also ended with John having to give himself a hand with his problem, while Sherlock started on the problem of the case.
John was soon cleaning up and making his way back into the sitting room, trying to appear casual and as though he wasn't bothered. "What's going on? Disappearances? Murder? Both?" He asked as he took a seat, careful to keep his eyes on the phone and not Sherlock.
"That would be fun, wouldn't it?" He glanced up at the other man. "Honestly, John, I don't know why that couldn't wait until after the case."
"Normal people have needs, Sherlock. We can't all go on and on without eating, or sleeping or other things. Especially not when we're already halfway there," he shot back, a touch of annoyance still ringing in his tone, despite trying to play it off as not a big deal. That was one thing he hated about Sherlock. He couldn't get away with anything around him, though fortunately he was also no longer as embarrassed when Sherlock pointed out things like this.
Holmes cocked an eyebrow as he settled back into the couch. "You could've waited until after we saw the case."
"No, because then you would be too excited and would be dragging me off before I had time to do anything. Which brings me to the question, why are you not dragging me off?"
"You say that as though you don't enjoy it just as much." They both knew differently. "False alarm. It was nothing I want or am needed for. I don't know why everyone seems to just keep sending me the most mundane cases lately. Where are the serial killings! The unexplained deaths! Anything interesting!"
John could feel another sigh building up. Sherlock had left him to finish things on his own and now they didn't even have a case to throw themselves into? "You're terrible, you know, you should be glad there aren't such things happening. We could take on a 'mundane' case if we're not doing anything else you know."
"There's plenty to do." At least there was when compared to taking a boring case. "We were certainly occupied, up until the text, which was something we could've gone back to now, had you waited a minute instead of rushing off to finish everything yourself. And I'm sure I could drum up a new experiment, in fact…" and then he was off, making his way to the kitchen, already muttering about eyeballs and boiling points, and leaving Watson shaking his head at the other man.