John curls his fingers around the back of Sherlock's head and chuckles to himself.

"Don't say it," Sherlock warns, having already forbidden any analogies between himself and a cat.

A couple of months into this new aspect of their relationship, they are finding the edges.

No touching while Thinking. None around the Yarders, except Lestrade, who seems unsurprised by anything they do these days.

An occasional squeeze of the hand in public is fine. Leaning against each other in cabs is fine wonderful perfect.

But this is one of their favorites-on the sofa, John reclined and watching telly or reading a book, Sherlock sprawled half on top of him, head nestled against John's belly, John's fingers running over his scalp, through his hair.

John just chuckles again, and removes his hand to turn the page of his novel. Sherlock nudges with his face at the edge of John's grey t-shirt until he can nuzzle against the warm, soft skin and silky hair of John's belly directly. He settles, and John's fingertips return to furrow his scalp.

Sherlock closes his eyes and does not purr.

x-x-x

In the morning, Sherlock wakes up and frowns at finding himself alone in bed. He hears John in the kitchen, swearing mightily at the toaster.

It's cold, but Sherlock gets up, pulls on his warmest dressing gown. John is showered and fully dressed and glaring at the appliance in question.

"Problem?"

John's voice comes fast and thick with irritation. "Bloody toaster. Only has one setting, apparently-burnt."

John tosses the charred toast into the bin under the sink and slams the cabinet shut. He goes back to his coffee, scowling as he drinks.

"This isn't about the toaster," Sherlock declares. He moves past John, reaching around him to get his own mug for coffee, as John has neglected to offer and seems unlikely to do so.

"Oh, really? What's it about, then?"

"This is about what happened earlier."

Now John is scowling at Sherlock. He sets down his mug. "It's fine."

Sherlock raises an eyebrow at him. Considers calling him out. "John, it's perfectly natural; there's no reason to-"

"Christ, I know it's natural, thank you, I just-" John stops himself from babbling. "That is going to happen sometimes when we . . . co-sleep-"

"Obviously."

John frowns. "-for various reasons, all right, but none of those reasons mean that I have sexual feelings towards you-"

"Also obvious."

"Nor do I expect you to . . . do anything about it."

Sherlock huffs. "I know you don't, and yet you're distressed by what was clearly an unwanted, unintentional erection. What I'm telling you is that you needn't be. I'm not repulsed or uncomfortable or bothered by it in any way."

John presses his lips together. "It's fine."

Sherlock sighs. "John. Your sexual frustration could power our flat; don't tell me 'it's all fine'."

"Right. Okay." John turns and dumps the last of his coffee into the sink and mumbles, "I'll figure something out."

"I've already told you the solution."

"Oh, right. The mythical perfect woman who will put up with both of us," John says mockingly. He turns and meets Sherlock's gaze, shaking his head as he speaks. "There is no such person, Sherlock."

Sherlock narrows his eyes. His voice is rough with accusation. "You're not even looking for her."

Sherlock sees the muscles along John's jaw contract as he clenches his teeth, sees him purse out his lips and nod.

"Right," John says, glaring out the kitchen window. "I'm late."

John turns abruptly and begins to walk towards the sitting room.

"For what?" Sherlock calls after him.

But John ignores him, grabbing his coat and fleeing down the stairs without a backward glance.

For a moment, Sherlock considers following him, but then the answer strikes him.

Of course.

Anxious. Irritated. Wearing his best "I'm a normal person" jumper.

John has an appointment with Ella.

x-x-x

Notes: Thank you again to my dear wiggleofjudas for their continued beta brilliance. Also, (in case you're not as obsessed with every itty bitty stinkin' detail of the show the way a certain author might be), a little reminder that "Ella" is John's therapist. Also, take heart. There is an eventual happy ending, I promise.