A.N. sorry, I'm a but late today :p here is the new chapter. thanks for the lovely feedback, guys :)
Chapter Three
It took them only minutes to walk home, but after Sherlock unlocked the front door he stopped and leaned against the wall, inhaling deeply.
"Sherlock, are you alright?"
"John." He sounded somewhat frustrated.
"What is it?" John stepped closer, reaching up to touch his friend's face.
"You were right. I should have slept. My mind is not working the way it should and I have to sleep, but I also have to eat, apparently," he put his hand on his stomach and winced. "There's no right way about it. Whatever I do, it'll slow me down, and it's all because I didn't listen to you."
John smiled and stood on his toes, pressing a gentle kiss to Sherlock's lips. "I have an idea."
"Really? I'm intrigued."
"No, you're not. You already know what I'm up to, aren't you?" John smiled and walked upstairs, enjoying the feeling of coming home again.
Sherlock took his coat off and dropped it on his chair just to dramatically throw himself on the couch. "You prepare dinner, I sleep," he announced.
Sherlock actually fell asleep quite quickly, leaving John to make risotto. He was done faster than he had intended, knowing that if he woke Sherlock now, he would not go back to sleep afterwards. Well, maybe he would get tired from eating and sleep properly for a night, but that seemed somewhat unlikely.
He tiptoed into the sitting room and looked down on Sherlock. It was strange how he was so different in private compared to his arrogant and aloof self when he was working, as if he was afraid that by showing some normal human behaviour he might be considered anything else but genius; that he would rather be called a freak and be treated apart from everybody else than risk showing any weakness. John felt his heart swell at the thought that Sherlock let down his guard so completely around him, especially since he had admitted to not quite figuring John out yet.
He had had no idea what Sherlock meant by that, because he certainly wasn't too complicated a character. But then John remembered that Sherlock had witnessed him having the dream earlier, and that it must have surprised and confused him to see John like this. And then there was the issue of him running away, locking himself up in his room while Sherlock clearly knew what was going on with him. John suddenly felt the strong need to apologise to him. It must have seemed to Sherlock as if John had bared his soul to him as Sherlock had tried to wake him up from the nightmare, and he had consequently felt the need to draw away and get some distance between him and Sherlock when it came to opening up and being honest. It must have seemed as if John didn't trust him completely, and that thought scared him.
He did trust Sherlock, despite the conflict that had arisen, but it was all going so fast. He remembered why he had usually taken it slow with his relationships, and somehow he had always told himself that it was the women who needed time, who needed to build trust; but this time it was undeniably he himself who was overwhelmed by his feelings for the sleeping man on the couch.
He inhaled deeply and walked back into the kitchen to eat, sitting down at the very front of the table to be able to hear if Sherlock woke up. Something told him that Sherlock would sense it if he stood there, staring down at him for longer. John knew that Sherlock probably preferred food to sleep, because even if he was full and his metabolism was overriding his brain, sleep meant immobility, it meant lost time that he could have used effectively. And it was ultimately harder to persuade Sherlock to sleep than to eat, although, if things were going to go the way he hoped they eventually would, Sherlock might just enjoy wasting time as much as making use of it. Now that he thought about it, he realised that Sherlock hadn't objected to cuddling and it had strangely enough always been John who had moved away first. That in itself was a small miracle.
John chuckled around his fork and imagined Sherlock sitting across from him, watching John eat while his eyes were wandering inquiringly over his face.
Just when he was getting lost in his fantasy, John felt two long arms sneak around his shoulders and two soft lips attaching themselves to his neck in a mirror image of what he had done earlier.
"You're supposed to be asleep," John said amused, trying to suppress a shudder that would have given away his state of mind.
"I couldn't, not when I knew you would eat alone."
"Wait, so you didn't even sleep?"
"I did sleep, but then I woke up because you were staring at me and that was curiously distracting."
"I wasn't...nevermind. Do you want to eat something?" John wanted to get up to prepare him a plate, but Sherlock kept his hands in place, even though with Sherlock's height it must have been a rather uncomfortable position. His lips started to move, small kisses pressed against his skin and John blushed, lightly, but obviously. Then Sherlock reached his jaw and moved up, pressing a kiss right under John's ear, making him cough nervously in order to keep a different, much more embarrassing sound from escaping his lips.
"My John," Sherlock whispered again, smiling against his skin. His hands held on tighter for a minute and John felt his heartbeat pick up speed. Sherlock opened his mouth and gently bit his earlobe and John's eyes fluttered closed. Whatever Sherlock was up to, John wouldn't run and hide this time.
When Sherlock moved on, leaning closer and kissing along his jaw, John turned his face, waiting for him to find his lips, but Sherlock seemed content just to kiss his chin for a while. When he opened his lips and let his tongue dart out to lick at the corner of John's mouth, John moaned shamelessly, moving his head again as to finally kiss him.
With a wicked grin, Sherlock moved away, leaving John to breathe heavily while he still held eye contact. And then, with an even wider grin, Sherlock suddenly disappeared and his arms let go of John and a second later he tipped the chair back, making John yelp in surprise as he pulled back so far that Sherlock could lean over and finally kiss him, only that Sherlock was upside down. Or maybe John was, he couldn't quite make up his mind, because his brain was on overload, trying to comprehend what was happening. Sherlock had clearly lied to him when he had said that he was not trying to surprise John. Also, Sherlock had gone from being accidentally sexy to experimental, which made John extremely uncomfortable in his pants. And he had clearly realised that John could be teased incredibly easily, which promised a very interesting future.
Sherlock was kissing him deeply and thoroughly, as if he had wanted to do it all day. His right hand was cupping John's cheek while the other held onto the chair. It was utterly hot. For a few moments John just let Sherlock kiss him, but when he started to kiss him back, John could feel Sherlock's control slip and when John moaned against Sherlock's lips, he could feel the chair shake dangerously. A second before he would most certainly fall, John grabbed the table and pulled himself into an upright position, leaving Sherlock to jump away to avoid being knocked out. Both of them were breathing hard now and John couldn't quite let go of the table just yet.
"Thank you, John." Sherlock sounded too purposeful under the circumstances and John turned around, facing him.
"For what?"
"You just solved a case." He smiled, unconsciously touching his lips.
"Does that mean you didn't just do this for the purpose of kissing me?"
Sherlock blushed lightly, which wasn't exactly the reaction John had anticipated. "Well, I don't think I could have thought of that without previously knowing about the position." He cleared his throat, almost nervously, and John's heartbeat quickened even more. Sherlock was being adorable again.
"I don't think I'm creative like that," Sherlock explained quietly. "Anyway, I had a case of a broken neck a while ago and while the suspect insisted that it had been an accident, and that there had been no fight, I now realise that I was missing one important detail in the equation." Sherlock sounded wistful and John wondered if Sherlock had regrets about always trying to be rational. Thinking back, the few mistakes he had made in his deductions usually stemmed from his misconception of irrational and emotional behaviour. "Well, considering I almost let go of the chair just because you...did that...thing..." he stopped and it took all John had not to explode from the overall need to cuddle Sherlock and never to let go again. He knew perfectly well that Sherlock would be mortally offended if he would start telling him just what he thought in that second and he knew that Sherlock was having a hard time as it was trying to express his own emotions. He might have considered their mutual affection a given, but it didn't mean that he could talk about it without blushing, and this delicious insecurity made John fall in love all over again.
Sherlock sounded honestly surprised about his deduction. "Of course, I didn't plan on breaking your neck, but I do understand how it might have affected the man. This is most strange."
John smiled and finally let go of the table. "You're such a liar," he said, causing Sherlock to step back in shock, his eyes going from wide to narrow very quickly. John enjoyed his little moment of triumph and moved towards Sherlock, still smiling. His smile seemed to calm Sherlock a bit, but he was clearly still unable to comprehend why John would say such a thing and what the consequences might be.
John ended up a foot away from Sherlock, who stood with his back to the wall, unable to move away any further. Standing this close to Sherlock at that moment was a revelation for John. It was obvious that Sherlock was confused by John's accusation and his mind was replaying everything he had said that might have caused John to call him a liar. However, he was also very clearly trying to calculate John's action, and, as a glance below Sherlock's waist line confirmed, hoped for some sort of physical confrontation. What struck John most, though, was the look on his face, the blush and the insecurity that made him look so young. It was as if Sherlock was really out of his depth and comfort zone but still kept his head up stubbornly, if only to pretend to be in charge, when he really wasn't. John knew that Sherlock hated being out of control, he had said it himself, but right in this moment, Sherlock enjoyed being out of control, enjoyed being surprised and unable to foresee what John would do. He was clearly intrigued.
John felt a shiver run down his spine and he had to fight to not lose his smile in favour of a predatory expression that was trying to steal its way onto his features. Sherlock certainly was no easy prey, but John had him up against the wall without difficulty and it was obvious that John was the one in control, the one to call the next move, and Sherlock patiently awaited that move.
The look on Sherlock's face changed into something that John could only define as want. His mental list of 'new things about Sherlock' had grown significantly during the past few minutes. He had seen Sherlock want something. He always wanted something; he wanted information, he wanted to know, he wanted to understand, he wanted to be right; but this want was different, this want had none of the self obsessed and egoistic touch that the other moments had. This want went deeper, much deeper, beyond Sherlock's control and, probably, also his consciousness. The fact that Sherlock was indeed unaware of his own reactions apart from the obvious physical ones had triggered John's comment in the first place.
Sherlock simply didn't know that he was indeed creative, that he had proven that quite a few times already during the past few weeks. He also wanted to surprise John, he wanted to impress John, and, most of all, he wanted to tease John and see how far he could go with him. And John was more than willing to test how far he could go with Sherlock. He closed the gap between them, watching Sherlock inhale sharply and lower his chin in anticipation of a kiss. John smiled and gently put his hand on the other man's hips, making sure he'd stay in place.
"You lied to me," he said again, this time with a whisper. "You pretend to do things for work while you are actually just too shy to ask for them. You pretend for things to have a purpose because you can't imagine doing something just for the sake of doing it. And," he licked his lips, making sure that Sherlock's eyes were fixed on his mouth, "you are very creative. I'm fairly sure that you fantasise, that you imagine what my reaction might be to something that you do." Sherlock's breath caught and John knew he was very close to the truth. He let his eyes roam over Sherlock's face, stopping at his lips, which opened involuntarily and John had to bite back a noise that would have destroyed the moment, because he was trying very hard not to let out a small squeal that would express his glee at being able to put Sherlock into the position he was in. So instead he tried to keep his cool, he tried to do what he had seen Sherlock do a million times. Control his expression and let him see only what he wanted him to see.
Leaning in even closer, rising his chin as if in preparation for a kiss, he could finally see Sherlock's eyes flutter closed, and, succeeding in his plan but being almost too turned on by its actual impact, he almost didn't manage to move away. John reminded himself that he was the one in control, so he let go of Sherlock's hips and stepped back quietly, watching Sherlock for a few seconds, eyes still closed, a light frown on his face, a frown that spoke of complete concentration. John finally let himself grin. He exhaled a little too loudly, so Sherlock could hear that John was now four feet away from him instead of four millimetres, where he clearly belonged and the frown grew deeper for a second until his eyes snapped open. John decided it was time for flight, so he turned and started for the stairs.
Sherlock took exactly one second to recover his wits and in a flash he was at John's heels chasing him up the stairs, catching him by the wrist and spinning him around, almost throwing the both of them down the stairs. With a noise that made John's knees give in so that he had to hold on to Sherlock for support, Sherlock moved in on him, crushing their lips together with all the frustration the few seconds of John's teasing had unleashed in him.