"Sherlock I'm not even dressed!"
"I didn't say there was a hurry"
John left at that and muttered some sort of complaint followed by
"Just let me get some clothes on."
*The following night*
"John.."
the deep baritoned voice, dancing over his name, doing such things to his groin.
"John..."
Prying at his flesh, like a carress but deeper
"John wake up!"
John was tossed quite abrubtly from a wet dream by the topic of said dream. He groaned seeing both his erection and the consulting detective lurched over him He glanced at his alarm clock
"It's three in the bloody morning Sherlock, what the HELL do you want?"
"I need you to do my laundry."
"What..."
"I need you to-"
"No Sherlock-"
his thumb and index finger pinched the bridge of his nose as he patiently sighed, regaining his composure
"I heard you Sherlock, by why at three in the morning would you want me to know about your laundry"
"Ah yes that"
Sherlock pointed aimlessly around the room
"What Sherlock?"
His tone had taken an agrivation
"a case"
"what?"
"I have a case in about- oh well ten minutes now"
Sherlock signalled at his watch as though John hadn't stated the time only moments ago
"Well... don't you suppose I'd want to help?"
"And thats why I've brought you laundry."
John stared into his eyes for a moment, with a are-you-fucking-kidding-me expression, before drawing in a soft cordinated breath.
"So."
John began, steadying eye contact, speaking with sincerity
"I'm supposed to do your laundry"
"yes I don't see what-"
"AH bub!"
John's fingered caught Sherlock's wide mouth in one motion
"YOU answer the questions."
"I'm supposed to do your laundry"
"yes"
"and all the while you'll be on a case"
"yes"
"and I am helping by doing your laundry?"
"quite a sound observation"
"god-sherlock... HOW? How does that help, at all, I mean AT ALL!"
"It is only the most crucial part"
"What are... are you high? No- Sherlock, I can COMPLETELY see the relevance of your apparell to your job chasing criminals!"
"Your being sarcastic aren't you"
"... yes Sherlock I'm being... FUCKING sarcastic"
John pound into his bed as the alien swear form from his lips
"Well than. I'll see you in around..."
Again Sherlock's wrist flickered from beneath his coat
"Oh well a few hours... not long"
John rolled back into his bed, not to worry about another wet dream, his dick wasn't going anywhere but down.
"John one more thing."
The doctor forced himself not to scream as he turned and sat up facing the detective
"yes?"
Sherlock leveled himself to John and pulled him into a soft kiss, running his hand through his hair once.
"Right than... that'll do"
John's eyes were stilled half lidded, lips puckered and red.
"ahem... well I should be... you know"
Sherlock awkwardly pointed to the bed
"Sleep and such..."
John layed back finally impressed with that consulting detectives unexpected actions, now if only he could make more of THESE random decisions. He smiled at the thought of Sherlock doing this sort of thing more often before relizing the basket on his floor of dirtied clothes.
"Mother-"
The next morning Sherlock was gone, which didn't exactly surprize John. John contimplated several times about blogging his late night... ordeal, with Sherlock but was stopped each time by the reminder that for some reason, everyone who was involved in their lives read it. For god sake MYCROFT complimented a study in pink. John was of course standing infront of a washing machine full of Sherlock's clothes. Sighing and thinking over their ever so messed up relationship,
Pimp and bitch, Sociopath and adreniline junkie, Friends, Flatmates and now apprently Lovers. Watson was torn from his thoughts when he recieved a text.
Don't need the laundry anymore -SH
John felt his eye twitch. It wasn't intentional, his eye litterally twitched, his fingers shaking with irritation as he flipped the phone shut (hopefully not breaking the screen) Shoving it back into his pocket ignoring the text. But of course another one followed. John sighed as he confirmed the 'Pimp and bitch'
relationship, returning to the screen
I've got something you'll like. -SH
And what would that be?
John we've been over this, you need to signature your texts -SH
John looked to the side, running his tounge over his lips in disbelief.
Fine than, what is it Sherlock? -JW
Better. I need you to come outside -SH
'bitch' ran through his head as he complied, going to see what his 'pimp' got him. If Sherlock started John on the street in all honesty it wouldn't surprize him at this rate. Opening the door John Watson found himself faced to face with a car, a car containing the eccentric detective. Sherlock Holmes popping up obviously quite proud of himself
"Where... a car?"
"an effecient transport"
"where did you get a car Sherlock- did you steal it?"
Again his lips were moistened by a darting tounge, accusing him with his pointed index finger
"It's rude to point John"
Sherlock did a cunning half smile, the one he did when he'd done himself proud, like his artwork on the wall. (bullet smiley face still there btw)
"Well are you coming?"
John hesistately, looking left than right, seeing if anyone was running after their car, before stepping into the vehicle sheepishly.
"Do you even know how to drive?"
"Well I drove it here didn't I?"
"wonderful..."
John sunk into his chair. He was in a car with Sherlock Holmes behind the wheel... Oh God.