Okay, guys, I decided I wanted to throw in a little case, here, because that would be interesting for me to write, and hopefully for you to read, too! :)

Sherlock woke up the next day, lying next to John. He almost fell out of the bed of pure surprise. He was, weirdly enough, more shocked about the fact that he was lying in a bed, rather than he was lying next to John.

"I never sleep in a bed," he mumbled to himself, getting up. John slept, and turned over. He wondered if he was going to make John breakfast, but decided against it. He'd rather sit on John´s computer looking up stuff, and nag Lestrade for cases.

Some hours later, John came down the stairs wearing only sweatpants. Sherlock didn't even look up, he was obviously very busy looking at something on, - ah, he thought so – John´s computer.

"Isn't that my computer, Sherlock?"

"Obvious."

"Why didn't you lay for a while? It'd been nice to wake up with you," John tried.

"Why would I do that? Oh, sentiment. Doesn't sound like me, does it? Laying in bed watching the love of my life sleep in my arms." If Sherlock hadn't said the love of my life, John would've been extremely hurt, and probably rushing out of the apartment the minute the sentence was said. Instead, he asked with a spark:

"Ah, I'm the love of your life?" Sherlock snorted, trying to hide away a little grin. That was all John needed, and he bent down over the sofa where Sherlock sat and kissed him lightly on the lips. It was only intended to be a little good-morning kiss, but it grew deeper and deeper, and suddenly John was dragged over the couch and laid on top of Sherlock. He moaned as Sherlock moved his hand between them and easily touched John´s erection through the sweatpants. He used his own hands to pull in Sherlock´s hair, trying to pull him closer, desperate for his lips.

Off came John´s pants, and Sherlock´s sheet had fallen off a long time ago. John licked down Sherlock´s collarbone, and he moaned deeply. He tore himself away from Sherlock´s smooth, silky skin and looked at his face. John used his fingertips to slightly touch Sherlock´s cheekbones. He let a finger slide down them, which caused Sherlock to shiver and a deep, hungry moan escaped his lips.

"John… Please."

John raised an eyebrow. He was surprised. He'd never though he'd hear Sherlock beg.

"Hm, what do you want me to do, then?" He decided he wanted to play this for a while. It was nice being the dominant for once. Sherlock didn't like being the submissive, though, so he nibbled on John´s earlobe, starting to rub John's erection, carefully and eager at the same time. He actually managed to flip over without falling off the sofa, so now John was on the bottom. Sherlock eased himself down, licking and nibbling down, exploring every little part of the doctor below him. The roles were changed. John gasped for air when Sherlock licked his extremely erected cock. Sherlock started with giving it a little suck, and John pulled hard in Sherlock´s silky, curly hair. Sherlock just kept teasing him with his tongue, until John finally said desperate:

"Sherlock, please. Suck me. I beg you." The raw, grumbly voice of John made Sherlock blinded with arouse, and he took John´s cock slowly in his mouth.

Just then, the door flew up, and in came Lestrade, Anderson and Donovan. They stopped, too shocked to move by the sight of Sherlock sucking John on the couch. John blushed, and with every strength he had, he made Sherlock stop. Sherlock didn't seem embarrassed at all; he simply looked up at the astonished faces and said:

"Would you leave now? I am busy."

"I need you on a case, Sherlock," Lestrade said. He'd finally gotten back his ability to speak.

"Can't you see I'm in the middle of someth- someone?" Sherlock looked down on John who was lying still, red as a tomato.

"I'm going to be sick," Anderson mumbled and strode off. Donovan gave them a last, freaked look, and followed Anderson.

"I'll be down when I'm ready," Sherlock snapped, and Lestrade left. When the door was closed, Sherlock turned his attention to John´s erected dick once again.

"No, no. I'm not doing this when the police is downstairs waiting. We'll have to do this later." John fought with himself as he rose from the couch, and went to his bedroom to get dressed. The erection was bothering him, but he couldn't keep on going with Anderson downstairs.

When John came down, Sherlock had actually put on clothes. John had had a sneaky feeling that he would go around in the sheet all day, and he couldn't decide whether he was disappointed or relieved.

"I would kiss you, but I don't think that's such a good idea right now," John said to Sherlock, as they went downstairs to talk to Lestrade. Sherlock didn't answer, but as he opened the door, he let his hand accidentally slide over John´s crotch. John flinched in pleasure, and the bulk in his pants got even bigger. Damn Sherlock. He looked at Sherlock just in time to see a very confident grin on his detective´s face.

The mood was a bit awkward when they got outside and Sherlock was waiting to get the case. John felt incredible embarrassed, but Sherlock didn't look like minded at all.

"Well, we don't know if this is a case yet, but we've been, ehm, paid to do this, the guy is a policeman you see, to prove that this wasn't suicide." Lestrade blushed when he said that. Sherlock cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"A man, 47 years old, was found hanging from a rope in his house earlier today. His wife found him. She said he wasn't the type to take his own life." Sherlock shook his head, but didn't want to be bored, so he joined in a cab with John.

"Bit unfair, don't you think? Starting this," John waved direction of his crotch, "and then just decide you're going on a case?"

Sherlock grinned, clearly extremely satisfied with himself.

"I will finish it later."

The house they arrived by was big and red. The garden was huge, and John felt a sting for not living there himself. The garden was in good condition, clearly taken care of regularly. Lestrade led them into the house and down to the basement. The stairs where newly painted white, surely not to look so old as they were. Actually, when they came down, Sherlock saw that the whole basement had newly been renovated. In a very little, narrow room, with nothing but a wash and a washing machine, hang a guy from a rope.

The man was slightly over-weight, had thin hair and big bold parts, and was wearing Puma. This was clearly a man who cared about how he looked, and wanted to show off as a guy with money. It was obvious to Sherlock that although he liked to pretend, he didn't have so much money he briefed with, but he probably did have a debt to be proud of. Beside him was a stool that most likely had been pushed away and –

"Okay, I'll take it. This isn't suicide."

Not the biggest cliffhanger, I admit. But I still hope I got some readers, I mean, my e-mail was sadly empty of reviews from the last chapter. Please tell me what you think of the case and stuff. I promise the case will be exciting, but in this chapter I just wanted to introduce it.

TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK :)