"Sherlock, please, for God's sake!" John pleaded with his flatmate who was lying on the couch, wearing nothing but a sheet.
"No." was his quiet reply.
"I've got a girlfriend coming over. I don't want her to see— John began but he stopped as he tried to figure out what to say.
"What?" Sherlock shrugged, eyes closed, "I don't see why I have to bother getting gussied up. You're the one who invited her. She's your guest to entertain, not mine" With that, he turned his back towards the Army doctor.
John slapped his forehead and dragged the hand gently down his face, "Not my point...I just— Once again, he was interrupted by the detective.
"Boring me, John. Boring. Boring. Boriiing"
John huffed through his nose and clenched his fists, looking the other way as if he were contemplating something. Suddenly, he violently grabbed Sherlock; one hand on his covered arm and another tightly holding the sheet.
"What the hell- Sherlock barely managed.
"You are getting dressed this instant" was John's demand.
He tugged on the sheet in an attempt to remove Sherlock from the couch. However, much to his dismay, he pulled the sheet back. Many violent groans sounded until Sherlock had finally been triumphant. But in the process of pulling his sheet back in one final tug, John fell forward with a yell, landing on him with their faces barely inches apart. John seemed to look the most shocked out of the two. Being so close to Sherlock left him speechless. He tried to form a sentence but all that came out were incoherent mumbles. He attempted to lift himself up, his hands on the taller man's chest which the sheet failed to cover. However, just as he started, Sherlock grabbed his hands. His fingers traced all of his veins softly. He closed his eyes a few times, looking down every now and then. A few seconds went by and Sherlock now did nothing but study his face.
John found himself lost in his eyes, trying to read them for any kind of emotion or motive. His voice finally came, "Sherlock…?"
It was then that loud footsteps were heard, snapping the two of them out of their little moment. The two of them stared to see who had entered. It was no one else but John's latest girlfriend. Her eyes were filled with such disgust and anger. She didn't say a word other than making a few noises that exclaimed how sickening she found the display. Afterwards, she ran down the stairs shouting complaints about her now 'ex' boyfriend, he assumed.
"Janice!" John shouted without getting up, "Janice! Wait! This isn't…I mean…It's not what you think!"
"Maureen.." Sherlock spoke.
"What?" John eyed him strangely.
"Maureen. The girl's name is Maureen…" Sherlock explained.
"Wha…Oh, right…right…" John nodded, he glanced at Sherlock and then at the exit a few times. It was now quiet so he gave up the shouting, "Not coming back, you suppose?"
Sherlock made a silly wide-eyed face for a minute, "Nooope…"
John sighed and buried his face in Sherlock's sheet. He laughed bitterly a moment and then looked at his best friend with a smile. He patted Sherlock congratulatory on his shoulder. His voice contained a little sarcasm, "Well done, Sherlock"
John suddenly lifted himself up and walked off. Sherlock laid there with a small look of confusion in his face.
He shouted, "John! John! John!"
The Army doctor, who seemed a little annoyed, walked over to him. He merely raised his eyebrows at him, awaiting whatever silly question or request Sherlock had.
"So…" Sherlock spoke, "Do I still need to get dressed?"
John placed a hand on his side and looked at the ceiling as if he couldn't believe the inquiry. He laughed a little, throwing a hand, as to signal that it didn't really matter anymore. After that, he walked away again. Once he'd disappeared, a large grin set on Sherlock's face and he pulled the sheet tighter. Sheetlock 4, Watson-Women 0.