Author's Note: Just a small Sherlock/John Drabble!
Sherlock sat perched on the couch, his bright eyes focused intently on the blogger at the table. John was writing up their last case, he knew, the taps to the keyboard almost painfully slow.
John glanced back suddenly as though he could feel Sherlock's eyes on him. "How are you holding up?" He asked, his voice quiet and rough in the night- he was determined to stay up to finish his post.
"Fine." Sherlock said steadily, his eyes never wavering from his target.
John glanced slowly away before darting his eyes quickly back to Sherlock with a quick head nod or two. "Good, that's.. Good." The doctor mumbled before turning his attention back to the screen.
Yet even still, Sherlock kept his eyes on John. He analyzed the way the doctor's muscles moved with every peck of the keyboard and tired stretch until finally John closed the laptop shut and leaned back to stretch against his chair. "Oh god- I thought that would never end."
"I feared the same" Sherlock said with a raised eyebrow, his blue eyes watching John like a hawk might it's prey.
After rubbing at his eyes, John pursed his lips and stood up from his chair. Sherlock followed the movement unblinkingly.
"Are you alright?" John asked, his eyebrows drawn in as he watched Sherlock- the consulting detective unusually calm considering the last case of theirs ended an entire day prior.
"Fine." Sherlock repeated, his body curled up into itself as he continued to sit and stare.
At this John seemed to deflate. The doctor walked over to take a seat across from Sherlock, his body exhausted and eyes threatening to bulge out of his skull. "Have you been using again?" He asked tiredly with a rub of his face.
"What?" Sherlock asked, his face contorting defensively as he declared- "No."
John stared silently back for a moment, his chin now resting in the palm of his hand. "You know you can talk to me about anything, Sherlock- you're not usually this calm..something's up."
Sherlock stared back, his eyes narrowing as he let his legs spring out with a lean forward in his chair- closer to John. "Nothing's 'up'- I'm waiting."
At this, John slid on an amused smile and leaned forward just a bit himself. "For what, exactly?" He asked.
Sherlock leaped from his chair then, his eyes looking up under dark eyebrows as he invaded John's personal space- his hands resting on the arms of the chair so that he was entrapping the doctor. "For you to get uncomfortable." He said, his voice low as he read John's life story for what was probably the millionth time.
Grinning, John let out a breath of a laugh. "I'm not bothered by you or your deductions, Sherlock- only those with something to hide would feel uncomfortable under your gaze.." John said, followed by a light kiss to the detective's pinkish red lips.
Sherlock watched with wide, softened eyes then as John lightly pushed him aside to stand up from his chair and move over to the kitchen.
"I'm craving a late night cuppa- want one?" John asked from their kitchen, completely oblivious to the fluttering he had started in Sherlock's chest.
Sherlock said nothing for a moment as he watched John fiddle around with the utensils in the kitchen, the smallest of smiles tugging at the corners of his lips as he did so.
"I'd love one."
John never had anything to hide from Sherlock, nor Sherlock from John.