Well, after the last chapter, I feel we should head on into the hotness. xD

Chapter Six

Groggily, I let my eyelids pull themselves open, and sat up in the comfortable double bed. Stretching out, I looked to my side to see Sherlock lying there, contentment on his sleeping face. Sherlock doesn't sleep very often. Guess I must have tired him out. I couldn't help but smirk at that thought. Somehow, I still couldn't see last night as a reality. Slowly, I leaned over so my face hovered over Sherlock's and his eyes fluttered open as he felt my breath against his skin.

"Unh... John, I don't have the energy for anymore..."

"No, you twit! Wake up, it's almost midday!" I peered over at the clock as I spoke. Wow, had we really slept for so long? At what point did we even fall asleep? It felt such a blur. I looked over to my phone, which acted as my alarm. Seventeen texts! Clearly, the news had spread.

"I wonder if Mrs. Hudson kno -"

"Sherlock, according to my phone, everyone kno – oh, God, even that guy." I scrolled to one of my texts. Jim.

"Well, it shouldn't matter. Why should it? I don't see anything wrong with us."

"Well, you're good like that. Oh, and Mycroft says he knows a good wedding planner." I sighed. "They totally saw this coming, you know."

"To be honest, I can see why."

"Why do you say tha -?"

Before I could finish that sentence, Sherlock's lips connected for what might actually have been the hundredth time already. The taste would never get tiring, though. The benefits of a nicotine patch only 'smoking' addiction is the lack of bad taste. As a result, Sherlock's lips tasted like a smooth, delicate caramel, and I couldn't understand how he could have gin so long without being in a relationship. Breaking away, Sherlock smiled, and then grimaced cheerily.

"John, I think someone specific might have spilled this."

"What do you mean?" Then I saw the note taped to the door:

Didn't want to disturb you, dearies. Honestly, was I surprised! Don't worry though - remember, that friend with the married ones? Maybe I'll have some too, heehee. -Mrs. H

I laughed. "Well, there's Mycroft's wedding planner explained."

Sherlock laughed along with me. "John, I hope you don't intend on going to work today."

"At lunchtime? Are you serious? As if!"

I trudged into the kitchen, peering once more at the clock. My eyes widened in shock. Twenty past four? This might be the latest I had ever slept in. But I know it's worth it. I looked at Sherlock, giggling.

"Can I just say burnt plaster has a nice smell, doesn't it?"

"Oh, not this again." Sherlock rolled his eyes, and I couldn't help but laugh. Sherlock had yet to actually get dressed, so he was still shirtless, now only in his boxers, and his hair was knotted and bedraggled.

"It's not funny. You're the one that's messed up my hair!"

"Oh, listen to you! Who's the one who punched me in the face just 'cause he wanted a punch back? Hmmm? Hmmmmm?" I tackled Sherlock down, and we flopped back onto the sofa, laughter cascading from the both of us. I snuggled up to Sherlock, burying my head into his shoulder.

"Something tells me you don't want to eat."

"Well, you don't seem to eat more than one meal a day, so why should I eat anything?" Sherlock smirked.

"I want to play a game."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Truth or dare."

"Sure. Where exactly did this come from, anyway? And since when do you even like games that don't involve serial killers?" I raised my eyebrow in scepticism.

"Doesn't matter. You go first.

Aaaand that's all for today. A bit cut off, sadly, but I have to stay up all night talking to a friend that's two hundred and fifty miles away on a school trip, so... heh. Still, next time we'll see what John and Sherlock get up to in this clearly random game of truth or dare. Byeee!