So, this is now actually the only chapter I have done a kind of spell and grammar check on so far, awkwaaaard. Anyway, I'm planning on going through all of the other chapter soon since I'm now on summerbreak and have too much time on my hands.
John donned his sunglasses as he walked out of the clinic. It was a lovely sunny day, probably the only one this summer, and everywhere you looked there were londoners enjoying the warm weather.
John had snuck out an hour earlier from work, planning on maybe going and have ice cream in the park with Sherlock. That would be nice to leave the flat and doing something fun together that wasn't chasing criminals through alleys for once. Not that Sherlock had done any chasing in quite some time, with the twins and all.
He inhaled deeply, the disgusting smell of exhaust hitting his nose, and his smiled turned a bit forced. Well, everything couldn't be perfect. He would have to settle for a day so wonderfully sunny that not even Mycroft would carry an umbrella, which John was seriously beginning to wonder if the man had married.
It was with a smile that John opened the door to 221B Baker street. It was with a smile John climbed the seventeen steps up to his and Sherlock's flat. It was with a smile John opened the door to his and Sherlock's flat. It was with a frown John regarded the sulking Sherlock on the couch.
"What's the matter with you?"John asked as he hang up his unused jacket on the coat rack. Sherlock didn't answer and merely continued with his sulking, lips set in a firm pout.
Deciding to ignore Sherlock's bad mood John asked "Wanna go to the park? I was thinking about maybe having some Ice cream and you know... A date?"
"No." Sherlock answered, sounding more like a stubborn five year old than the thirty one year old he was. Well, there went his day. John sighed and wondered if Sherlock had even left the couch today, it certainly didn't look like it. Deciding he needed something cold to drink he walked out in the kitchen and saw that his earlier assumptions were apparently wrong.
The kitchen table was somehow messier than usual and the mess had spread up on the countertop where row upon row of test tubes were aligned. On the floor in front of the countertop were at least glass from two test tubes and a milk white jello-like liquid with some weird looking dots in. John pursed his lips and gave the kitchen a once over before walking back into the living room.
"Sherlock." He began, tilting his head to the left. "What the hell is that milky liquid and the shattered test tubes doing on our kitchen floor?"
"I was going to clean it up." Sherlock muttered, crossing his arms over his chest and looking even more like a stubborn five year old.
"And why haven't you?" The fact that John sounded like the mother of a stubborn five year old hadn't crossed his mind.
Sherlock didn't answer at first and just continued sulking but after five minutes of a silent game of if I can't see him he can't see me with John staring expectantly at Sherlock and Sherlock looking anywhere except John Sherlock finally gave in.
"I couldn't reach the glass." He muttered under his breath.
"What?" John frowned. This was not the answer John had expected, not even close.
"You heard me perfectly well the first time." Sherlock spat.
"You couldn't reach the glass?"
"Yes, I've told you."
"Why?"
"Because the twins was in the way." Sherlock whispered, as if him being pregnant was some kind of secret.
John stared at Sherlock in disbelief for a second before he burst out laughing, doubling over and clutching his stomach. Oh good. He wished he had been there, watching Sherlock trying to bend over enough to clean up.
"John! John stop it! It's not funny John!" Sherlock shouted from his position on the couch.
"Oh it surely is." John answered, still giggling.
"No it's not! My feet ache, my back is killing me, it's too fucking warm, I need to pee all the time, I can't get up from the couch, the twins have been hiccuping and kicking interchangeably all day and now my boyfriend is laughing his ass off at me!" Sherlock looked on the verge of tears by the end of his rant and John suddenly felt like a complete jerk. "And my legs are cramping!"
"Oh." Was all John could bring himself to say at that. Awkwardly he sat down and put an arm around Sherlock who did an half hearted attempt to shake it off.
"I can give you a massage for your back, if you'd like." He asked cautiously, hoping that Sherlock didn't think this idiotic, but Sherlock only nodded and shifted so he was sitting with his back towards John.
John slowly brought his hands up and began kneading the muscles in Sherlock's back, however not feeling Sherlock's tension disappear. After just over two minutes of massaging Sherlock spoke up.
"John stop. You're the worst massager in the history of mankind."
John quickly removed his hands from Sherlock's back, not liking that he made Sherlock's day worse.
"Um...Is there anything I can-"
"Bring me the Ben and Jerry's in the freezer." Sherlock barked, pointing a finger at said freezer. John looked into the kitchen and then back at Sherlock, then into the kitchen and back at Sherlock again, and then once more. Sherlock had never shown any interest in trivial things such as ice cream before. But then again he had quite a sweet tooth.
Still feeling like a jerk for laughing at his partner John got up and obediently brought the ice cream and a spoon. When he gave Sherlock the tub Sherlock more or less ripped off the cap and thrust it in John's direction. John placed the cap on the coffee table and once again sat down next to Sherlock, who had balanced the ice cream tub on top of his belly and looked quite pleased with his current situation.
They sat like this for a few minutes, Sherlock spooning ice cream into his mouth and John sitting quietly by his side, before John decided that the weather did indeed call for a cold pint. With a huff he got off the couch -he could understand why Sherlock couldn't get off it, even he had problems- and walked into the kitchen.
The floor was still a mess but he figured he'd let that pass till another day, or at least until the sun had set. He opened the fridge and began searching the shelves when suddenly Sherlock's voice rang out through the flat.
"Please, give me a break!"
There was a loud groan after and when John looked back into the living room, beer can in hand, Sherlock was giving his stomach murderous looks.
"Why are you trying to kill our unborn children?" John questioned, not really knowing if he would want the answer.
"They won't stay still." Sherlock huffed, spooning another spoon of Strawberry Cheesecake in his mouth.
"Can, can I feel it?" John had yet to feel the twins move, even though it had been little over eight weeks since Sherlock first felt them move. This depended on a lot of things, but mostly of John simply forgetting that he should be able to feel them kick by now, which was a very weird thing to forget.
Sherlock looked up at him with a surprised expression on his face and then looked back down at his stomach. He slowly moved the tub of ice cream away and John took that as a yes. When he kneeled in front of Sherlock his partner grabbed his hand and placed it on the left side of his belly, over the navel.
The sat like this for quite a while, John's hopes sinking with each passing minute and Sherlock just enjoying his moment of peace. Suddenly, John felt something bump against his palm and looked up at Sherlock for confirmation, not believing his own senses. Sherlock nodded once and smiled.
"That's amazing." John laughed, placing his other hand on Sherlock only to have Sherlock move it to a better place, not that John minded though. Another bump came soon and John felt like his face might split in two for he was grinning so hard.
"Did you feel it?"
"Yeah." John breathed, still not quite believing it.
"Then come here." Sherlock patted the cushion beside him and John moved from his place in front of Sherlock and sat down only to have Sherlock snuggling up against him, offering him a spoon of the ice cream. John gladly accepted the offer and decided that sitting in your flat with a beer in your hand and your pregnant partner eating ice cream straight from the tub next to you was probably a better date than a cone of ice cream in the park ever could have been.