John woke up early this morning. His back was killing him and the bed suddenly became uncomfortable. He blamed stress for all of that. But not excess of it, no, he lacked it. How Sherlock shouted in every moment he could "Boring!".
Yes, John was perfectly bored. Felt left alone as his flatmate got himself busy with lab work and spend all day at St. Bart's trying to figure out some cold cases. He got himself files from a (Sherlock's exact words) "friend from the archives". John was sure he intimidated or blackmailed the poor man in order to get some distraction from absolute lack of work they had lately.
Last week John found himself walking round the apartment treading out carpet-paths between bed, telly and fridge. His girlfriend- Kate decided they should split up last Wednesday and Stanford left for short holidays so since last weekend he wasn't out for beer or walk or even out to buy groceries- he ate chinese or pulled the frozen food from between body parts and other flesh or chemical samples from the freezer .
He sat all day in living room apathetic and lazy, he energized only when miss Hudson came by with tea and lunch (obviously she was worried about John's lousy psychical condition) and when Sherlock was getting back home. Usually excited, briefly talked John through his new developments eating rest of chinese and flee to his bedroom.
Today seemed no different than always. John got down to kitchen to pour himself a cold tea- Sherlock must've left very early in the morning because cattle was stone-cold. He heard the door slam.
"Put your clothes on John!" Sherlock exclaimed with a happy voice which- accept of it's timbre- would better suit a child " I solved this case! Wasn't too easy this time! Let's go grab something to eat, shall we?"
John stared at Sherlock with a bored look on his face.
"Oh great" he spoked with irony " I feel so happy for you! So now as you're back full of energy you can clean up the mess that you left in the kitchen and hoover the living room"
"What?"
"...clean up the mess..."
"No, no, no " he said taking off his coat and throwing it on the armchair that John intended to seat on "I'm perfectly aware of what you just said. I'm just wondering what happened that you're so..."
"What have happened?" John shouted angrily " Happened? Nothing happened you blind idiot! Nothing is happening, nothing at all! The last week I spend inventing new fascinating ways of sitting on the couch. I'm glad you got yourself distracted from the absolute boredom but I'm bored Sherlock! BORED! BORED!" he yelled spilling the tea on the carpet.
When he finished he stood relaxed, red on face and fast pulse, but he felt fantastic!
"Oh" Sherlock took a step forward his flatmate and observe him with his bright blue eyes wide open "That's interesting. You are angry at me for not giving you the usual entertainment. But you've got your laptop and telly- isn't that what people like you do when they're bored?"
"People like me?" John asked calmly " You mean simple, little-brained blokes like me?"
He didn't feel offended by that- he got used to that little things Sherlock didn't mean to say... well he meant it but he didn't want to harm. But John intentionally provoked the fight. He felt fantastic- best in weeks! Having Sherlock stared at him, trying to crack what this is all about. Having his attention, the whole of it not divided between him and some dead bloke lying in the mortuary. What an amusement!
"Come on" Sherlock took a step back "You know I didn't mean to offend you, just pointing out obvious ones" he smiled "Now stop the nonsense and change your clothes we're going out!" said giving John a little nudge in the belly.
Something was seriously wrong, John found himself provoking a beautiful argument that wasn't even taken seriously and getting a poke like a little child.
"Going out?" John asked hiding his nervousness.
"Precisely!" said Sherlock heading to the kitchen to get himself a cup of tea. He seemed even happier than when he got home.
"Oh sweet. So have fun and send me a postcard."
John drank the rest of the tea put the cup on the coffee table and left upstairs to his room. When he closed the door he felt strange. The whole situation seemed stupid to him now, he acted like a child he deserved depreciating nudge, but still his pulse was raised and he felt weird, the mixture of happiness, anticipation, shame and anger. What was wrong about that day?
Hello!
I rewrote that story I uploaded here like a year ago (I deleted the other version) and added second chapter (working on more, yay!). It's still my first fanficton for now rating is low it's gonna get higher. Planning about 5 chapters as for now it is WIP.
I would love you forever if you would tell me what you think about it! So... if you want to review don't stop yourselves ;)
love you all!
]o]o
(unbe
