A/N: So... How do you feel about short chapters? *winces* Well, at least I updated it right? ...Right? XD lol, and don't worry, this story IS going somewhere. Really. For a while there I wasn't sure how to continue it, but I've got a vague idea now. SUSPENSE. Also reviews? Reviews are nice.

"Sherlock," John gasped, as the other man pressed his body up against the wall. "Sherlock, what-" But John never could finish his sentence before he was silenced by lips pressed hard against his own.

He responded immediately, forgetting his shock as his arms wrapped around Sherlock and brought him closer, trying to eliminate all space between them. John could feel Sherlock's arousal pressed against his stomach, sending jolt through his entire body. He heard Sherlock's breath hitch as he carefully untucked his shirt and slid a hand up to brush against his nipple.

"John..."

His name was just barely a moan, more of a breathy sigh really, but it very effectively turned him on. To have dominance over a man who flaunted his intelligence periodically was really quite a heady feeling. John pulled away just slightly, enough so he could see Sherlock's pupils blown wide with arousal, a slight flush spreading across his face.

"Sherlock, tell me what you want."

Sherlock whimpered. The noise went straight to John's groin, and he had to bite his lip to keep from groaning out loud.

"Tell me what you want Sherlock."

"John. John, wake up."

He shot up, taking on a defensive position. His gaze immediately fell upon a pair of grey blue ones, much closer than he had anticipated. He sucked in a quick breath, and tried to keep all emotion out of his face.

"H-hello, Sherlock. Back so soon?"

Sherlock looked back at John confusedly.

"No, not soon at all John - it's been 4 hours since I left the flat... And you've been asleep this whole time."

"Erm... maybe."

Sherlock gave him a look. He never did seem to understand it when people willingly slept for more than half an hour.

"I heard you muttering in your sleep, I thought you were having another nightmare."

He actually looked concerned for once. John almost did a double take. Then he smiled dryly.

"Quite the opposite, actually, but that's... that was nice of you, really."

Sherlock's eyebrows shot up, and he leaned back, possibly realizing that he was still rather too close for a normal conversation.

"I wasn't trying to be nice John, what an incredibly boring motivation. I was simply ensuring that you wouldn't be tired tomorrow morning, we can't have you being any less attentive than you already are."

"Of course." John rubbed his eyes, then shifted awkwardly on the couch. The dream he had wasn't getting any less vivid, and he was uncomfortably aware of the lower regions of his body.

In an attempt to divert Sherlock's sharp eyes from himself, John asked, "So what were you doing out four hours? The lines that long?"

By then Sherlock had gotten up from his rather awkward position on the floor, and had taken a seat on the chair John usually resided in. He had his laptop out even while talking to John, but John was used to it - there were many words to describe Sherlock (beautiful, graceful, ethereal were just a few that came to John's mind), "polite" was not one of them. Unless of course he was trying to get information.

But when John questioned him, he looked up quickly from the screen with a look that John hadn't seen on his face before. Because of this, he had a hard time placing it, it was so odd. But... yes, he was fairly certain he had seen panic. As soon as it was there it was gone though, replaced once more by blank indifference.

After a pause, he answered, expressionless, "for a case." He then turned back to his laptop, slender fingers flying across the keys. Obviously, he wasn't going to elaborate any further.

John sighed, then checked one more time to ensure Sherlock's attention was directed elsewhere before hurriedly getting up and retreating to his room, resolving to find out just what Sherlock was so keen to hide from him.