Mind Games and Body Games, The Game is On!
CHAPTER 1:
The End of One Dance to Begin Another
It was the early hours of morning, somewhere around 7 am. Sherlock once again hadn't gotten any sleep, so when he heard John stir he decided to put the kettle on. As he walked over to the kitchen from his chair in the living room, he thought back to when he had met the doctor, he had deduced then; that he would be able to reside with him without his initial attraction to the man posing an issue. Sherlock was beginning to think he had been wrong, and he hated being wrong.
The past few days had been torture, he was increasingly bored. John had a couple days off work too, no appointments at Bart's for him. Sherlock found himself increasingly perplexed by how he felt and reacted to the doctor's presence. Confounded by the way his heart raced, or jumped at the sound of his voice.
"So this is sexual tension." Sherlock mumbled to himself.
"What's that Sherlock?" John was standing at the arch where the living room met the kitchen. Sherlock was still standing by the stove, he felt a shiver shoot down his spine when John said his name. Had he been so deep in thought that he hadn't heard him enter the room? I must be faltering, that's no good. Making a mental note to try and stay alert, he remembers John asked him a question.
"Oh, uh, nothing- Good morning John, Tea?"
"Yes please, Did you get any sleep at all?" John asks the question as he walks over to his chair and picks up the morning paper before sitting down.
"A bit." Sherlock lies. He feels warm at the idea that John is genuinely concerned that he doesn't sleep much.
"Sherlock. Don't lie to me, you know I can tell when you're lying."
Sherlock had made his way with the tea tray to the table beside John. He stilled when John said his name that way and stood looking down at him blankly. John looks up at him.
"Are you alright Sherlock? You look flushed, do you have a fever?"
Again John's concern sends heat through his body. He sets down the tea tray and pours their tea, placing two biscuits on each saucer.
"I'm fine, John." he says he takes his tea and goes to sit in his chair across from John, reminding himself not to appear too rigid and act normal, and pretend he isn't still aware John's gaze is upon him, by the singing in the fibers of his being.
John watches Sherlock sit down, stiffly at first and then relaxing, but in a way that made it seem forced. John once again finds himself wishing he could flog Sherlock for lying to him. In some ways it's hard to read the man. Sherlock puts up this front of always being in control, but when he they are alone together, John is almost certain he sees a submissive. Not that he minds either side of Sherlock, being familiar with both roles. Sherlock seems to bring out the Dom in him, he had never wanted to be with a man like this before, always preferring to be with women.
John's thoughts wander, imagining looking up into those piercing blue eyes as he kneels on the floor before him, yeah he can see both roles. This last spark of imagination aroused him and he quickly folds the newspaper, places it on his lap and clears his throat.
"I have a date tonight" John says. He watches closely for Sherlock's reaction. He's hoping he has picked up some deduction skills living with a genius. He watches his flatmate stiffen and his face go blank, sip his tea and place it next to himself before replying.
"What is the poor girl's name this week?"
John then has an idea and smirks.
"What if it wasn't a girl?"
His heart is racing now and he begins to feel nervous. He's grown impatient and he feels the need to know if he can start something more than friendship with the curly haired, blue eyed, and lean muscled man that is sitting roughly four feet from him.
Sherlock chokes as the air catches in his throat and he begins to feel a blush creep up his neck. What is this? He wonders, is this...Jealousy? John seeing another girl he could handle, and had been handling for some time, but another man? He suddenly feels angry and sick. How is he supposed to react to this? Think! Sherlock, think! He takes a deep breath,
"I didn't know you took interest in men, John." he says, hoping John doesn't pick up the bitter quiver in his voice. He feels John's gaze move to the exposed skin of his chest where the robe has parted. Sherlock faintly wonders if he is imagining it, if maybe the delusions of sleep deprivation are setting in, that hungry look in John's eyes surely must be his mind tricking him into seeing what he wants to.