Hills upon hills, valley after valley, they drove. The sun moving across the sky on this rare beautiful day.
"Bored!"
"Sherlock please, not now. We only have 2 hours until we get there."
"What's the point of this camping? So that we can be away from civilization? Clean water? Internet? Murders?"
"Oh shut up Sherlock, it's supposed to be a vacation."
"A vacation from what? I was enjoying my life at 221B just fine thanks."
"I should've taken a vacation from you…" John mumbled, mostly to himself.
"I heard that. I don't want to be here anyways, so why did you drag me along? Why didn't you just take one of your 'lady friends'? I'm sure they would do anything to sleep in small quarters with you. 'The magnificent John Watson'. 'Everyone loves John Watson.'"
"Oh shut it Sherlock, I don't have that many friends."
"You're right. I did a study once on your relationships, actually I wrote an essay on suppressed hatred in close proximity based entirely on your friends."
"Wow Sherlock, you really know how to make someone feel loved."
"Sentiment is a chemical defect and it will always destroy you, so don't worry John, your lack of friends is a good sign."
"Yeah alright, just go to your mind palace… or something."
Sherlock huffed and crossed his arms, sliding down in his seat and turning his body towards the window.
Finally some silence, John thought to himself. Five minutes passed before Sherlock broke the silence,
"99 bottles of bees on the wall, 99 bottles of bees, take one done, pass it around, 98 bottles of bees on the wall."
John stared, his brows furrowing in utter confusion.
"Um… Sherlock you do know that's not how the song goes."
"I'm very aware of the fact John but being that we are driving and it is illegal to drink and drive I thought it best to pass around bees rather than beer."
"Okay then… just making sure."
Sherlock continued to sing to himself quietly, once again looking out the window. The sun was now setting beyond the hills and it was absolutely gorgeous. John started to comment on how beautiful it was, until he realized the detective was fast asleep. John was a bit relieved although the next hour felt relatively lonely.
They finally arrived and John was eager to get out of the car and stretch his legs. He looked around at their campsite, nothing special, a fire pit and a picnic table provided. He walked around to the back of the car and opened the trunk, unloading the necessary supplies for the night; he could unpack the rest in the morning. John nearly forgot about the sleeping detective until he passed the window. He couldn't help but stop and stare. It was so rare to see Sherlock in this form, relaxed, his crazy mind at rest. John admired the way Sherlock's curls fell gently across his forehead, his body curled up, and best of all, his face smashed up against the wind, a little bit of drool falling from his mouth. John couldn't help but laugh as he gently opened the door, the detective falling over, still fast asleep. He grabbed Sherlock's arm, gently shaking him awake.
"It's time to wake up Sherlock. We only need to set up the tent and then we can deal with the rest in the morning."
"Johnnnnnn… Can't…"
"Yes Sherlock you can. Now get up, I can't carry you."
"Fine…"
Sherlock hoisted himself out of the car, stumbling as he struggled to regain his balance and fully wake up. Sherlock made his way to where John stood in the corner, taking out a tent and laying out poles. John spotted Sherlock and handed him a piece of paper.
"Here help me set up the tent. Just read the instructions."
Sherlock grabbed the paper and stared at it for a minute before speaking,
"Which language? I'm fluent in all of them."
"English of course."
"Boring."
"Sherlock, not right now. I just want to set this up and get some sleep. Not everyone had the privilege of falling asleep in the car."
"Not everyone as in you John? Because obviously there is only two of us and I slept meaning that when you said 'Not everyone had the privilege of falling asleep in the car', you are referring to yourself. Which seems incorrect since everyone is normally plural and you John, are singular, in more ways than one, might I add."
"Sherlock, now's not the time for your rants, I was just joking. Also I could do without the single jokes. Yes I'm single, and yes I am aware. No need to go and rub it in. Now make use of yourself and read the instructions."
Sherlock sighed, but complied, reading aloud the instructions very thoroughly and even opting to help John out every once and awhile. After just under twenty minutes the tent was up. John stood back and admired it as Sherlock groaned.
"Do we have to sleep outside?"
"Yes Sherlock. It's part of the camping experience. You're lucky we're sleeping in a tent, sometimes people just sleep in sleeping bags, no cover at all."
Sherlock just grunted and walked back to the car in search of bedding. John followed after him, retrieving a box of supplies from the car.
"Alright Sherlock we have two choices. One, we can each sleep in our own sleeping bags, but share an air mattress, which I was nice enough to include. Or two, we can put bedding on the air mattress and share it like a normal bed."
John looked over at Sherlock, waiting for a response. Sherlock looked down at the ground and mumbled.
"What was that Sherlock?"
"I said that camping kind of scares me so I would like to share the air mattress as if it were a regular bed, without sleeping bags. If that's alright with you…"
"Of course it is Sherlock, of course. You don't have to be embarrassed, everyone gets a little scared camping, especially if it's there first time."
The detective just nodded and grabbed a lantern, heading towards the tent. John followed after carrying the bedding.
It only took a few minutes for John to inflate the air mattress and make the bed. Sherlock had left the tent but returned a few minutes later, carrying both his and John's bags of clothing.
"Where's the bathroom?" Sherlock asked, completely serious.
"Erm... Sherlock, there is no bathroom."
"What do you mean John? Where am I supposed to change?"
"In the tent. You kind of have to give up modesty when you go camping."
"Modest? You think I'm modest John? I'm the least modest person there is."
"Well then it shouldn't be a problem."
Sherlock nodded, but John saw behind the detective's eyes. Sherlock was definitely unsure of it all. John decided to change first, prove to Sherlock that it was no big deal. He grabbed his bag and reached inside, grabbing his pajamas and pulling them out. John looked at Sherlock for a second, noticing that the detective's eyes were glued to John, watching his every move. Suddenly a wave of self -consciousness came across John. John knew that Sherlock was long and lean, and probably much better looking than himself. What if Sherlock made fun of John for the way he looked? John pushed the thought away quickly and stood his ground. He needed to show Sherlock that it was no big deal. He started with his shirt, pulling it off and throwing it to the ground. Sherlock stared, but said nothing. John continued pulling down his jeans and throwing them to the side. Sherlock continued to stare, but remained silent. John soon realized that he had frozen, that he was standing nearly completely naked in front of his flat mate and had yet to put on his pajamas. Sherlock finally spoke,
"You know John, we could just not wear pajamas to bed. It might be easier to share body heat, if we have less clothes in the way."
John stayed frozen, unsure if he had heard the detective right.
"John, please do close your mouth, you look like a fish."
John quickly shut his mouth, unaware that it had fallen open. Sherlock smirked and stood up, reaching for the buttons on his shirt. One by one he unbuttoned, until his shirt fell open and John caught sight of the detective's perfect abs. John cringed, he shouldn't be staring, but Sherlock was like a drug, John couldn't keep his eyes off of him. Sherlock pulled the shirt off the rest of the way, revealing surprisingly toned arms. John watched, but said nothing. Sherlock reached for his trousers, unbuttoning them and pulling them down slowly, before throwing them to the side.
The two now both stood naked, all except for their underpants. They didn't shy away from staring, both of them taking in the other. Finally John broke the silence,
"Well erm, we should probably go to bed now. It being late… and everything."
Once again Sherlock just nodded and the two climbed in bed. It was impossible with the size of the mattress for the two men not to touch, but neither of them complained. Several minutes went by and the two stayed silent, just staring at the sky through the window in the top of the tent. Sherlock looked over at John,
"You always make fun of me for not knowing the constellations. But I think you should know that while I don't know much information about them, it doesn't mean I don't admire them."
John smiled and nodded his head in silent agreement. Sherlock took the smile and the silence as an opportunity. He cuddled close to John and wrapped an arm around the smaller man, pulling him close. Silently John obliged, turning his back to Sherlock so that Sherlock was curled around John. A few more minutes passed and the two men's legs became entwined, holding onto each other. A few more minutes and then John turned around, coming face to face with Sherlock. They sat like that for a few minutes, cuddling close and staring into each other's eyes. Finally John moved forward, pressing his lips gently to Sherlocks'. Sherlock returned the kiss, pulling John closer, his legs wrapping around the smaller man's torso. John reached his hands around Sherlock's head and entwined his fingers in the detective's dark ravenous curls. They spent several minutes like that, pulling each other impossibly close, and sharing each other's lips. Finally John spoke,
"You're just like the constellations Sherlock. Although I don't always know much about you, or understand you, I always admire you."
"Oh John please do shut up, your romanticism is unnecessary. Although I think your lips on mine are very necessary at this moment."
"Oh shut up Sherlock."
"Make me."
And with that John once again pressed his lips to against Sherlock's lips. 'Maybe', Sherlock thought. 'Just maybe, I might like camping.'