Sherlock smirks and huffs under his breath. John bits his tongue from saying anything harsh. If it was the first time, John would say nothing but, in fact, this is the third time Sherlock has done that since they started working in the study.
The motion and sound are irritating in the fact that one, John is bored and annoyed he is working on these specific papers and two, he has a sense of curiosity about what Sherlock is doing.
The third time Sherlock interrupts, however, is unintentional but no less distracting than the rest.
John watches as Sherlock bites his lip to keep from laughing and wretches his eyes back to the police reports sitting in front of him. Something shifts in his stomach, a tugging at the base of his abdomen that makes him sink deeper into the chair. He shakes his head in an attempt to distract himself.
These are reports Sherlock should be doing. Paperwork and other filling from the police. Yet, here John is. Taking the time out of his afternoon to finish them up so they get done by the deadline. John shifts and sends a glare across the table where it goes unnoticed.
Just a couple more pages and then he'll be free. Maybe pop around to the pub or even putting on a movie, something he never has time for, sounds like a treat.
Quiet settles and John concentrates until Sherlock snickers. He's sure he's never heard that sound from his flat mate before and the shock of it is what prompts him to abandon his work.
"What are you even doing over there?" He says harsher than he means too, but John's tired, wants to sleep and be done instead of this.
"Bored." Sherlock responds but there's something in the way he hesitates. Sherlock's been engrossed for the past 30 minutes and that confuses him and, more dangerously, makes John's curiosity rise. His flat mate brings the laptop a bit closer to him so it's resting on the edge of the table.
John pretends to go back to his papers. He waits until Sherlock relaxes again to ask. His work long forgotten.
"What are you reading?"
Sherlock tenses again and doesn't look up. There's a purposefulness to his actions. A nonchalance that screams of performance.
"I don't see why that's any of your business, John."
A strange answer followed by an equally strange reaction. Sherlock speaks brusquely but a flush rises from his neck to his cheeks. Something not even something Anderson and Donavon's crudest teases bring out.
It's sweet on him, John thinks. The heat deepens the colors of his eyes.
This is the finals straw. John is like a cat with a canary perched in front of it. He waits until Sherlock is back to staring at the computer complete with a glimmer in his eyes before he strikes.
The computer is in his hands and he's across the room before Sherlock realizes. He's still got some of his army training, smirking to himself.
Sherlock jumps up.
"John, really now. Give that back, it's a matter of national importance."
"Is it now?" He says bringing the laptop closer to his chest. He reaches to adjust the screen so he can see and twists so Sherlock won't be able to grab it.
Sherlock tries, once before John stomps on his foot. Harsher than necessary but Sherlock deserves it, he's sure, for some past infraction.
"John, really, I insist."
"I'm curious, Sherlock. What had you so mesmerized over there."
"Did you know that the term mesmerizes dates back to the Austrian physician named, Franz Anton Mesmer?"
"Boring." John says while squashing the urge to stick his tongue out. Sherlocks eyes are wide, brows drawn up to his forehead. He looks funny standing there with arms reached out toward him but John will not be dissuaded.
He looks down. Looks up and back down when all he can see is Sherlock's eyes, not pleading but open, vulnerable. John scrolls up and checks the browser before stepping forward and handing Sherlock the laptop back.
His earlier annoyance is all but gone, something warm and much kinder replaces it.
Sherlock still hasn't said a word but he doesn't really need to.
John was watching as Sherlock read. He saw the concentration and laugh lines, hell, even heard the snickers. John knew Sherlock enjoyed what he was reading.
That it is John's blog he read is something that never crossed his mind. John wasn't even sure if Sherlock knew about it besides the cursory details.
Still, Sherlock read his writing and for all intents and purposes enjoyed it.
John lets the pleasant hum of flattery settle in his chest. Sherlock takes the laptop but doesn't make eye contact.
"Thank you." John says in a rush. "For reading."
John smiles when Sherlock looks back and it feels good. Sherlock's tense brows soften as he stares at John.
"There were some factual discrepancies in the last bit. We could go over them if…"
"No, no. I take it back."
"Really, John. Your viewership would benefit from the truth."
John grabs the nearest thing to him; a scarf hanging near the door and chucks it at Sherlock.
"You're finishing those reports." John can't stop smiling for the rest of the evening.
Thank you for reading!