Leaning over the man, touching his lips to his neck, John continued to entice the engrossed Consulting Detective. Much to his dismay, Sherlock remained unmoving, his hands pressed silently under his chin. Sighing, the doctor sat beside him on the bed, his arms crossed over his chest in bitter frustration.

Sherlock observed with confusion in his voice, "I've upset you."

"How'd you deduce that, hmm?" he muttered with sarcasm. "Yes, Sherlock. You have."

"I have. I knew it." for a moment, he reveled in his correction deduction. Cocking an eyebrow, Sherlock's gaze shifted to John, "How could I have possibly upset you?"

"You...just sitting there in your mind palace. I could beg you to...fuck me and you'd probably still sit there, bloody mute." he responded gruffly, avoiding the man's eyes.

"Well-" he voiced, the word tumbling into the air as he furrowed his eyebrows. He was unsure of what the doctor anticipated of him. John sighed as Sherlock continued to remain pondering, his thoughts seemingly more interesting than his lover, standing from the bed to gather his previously discarded clothes. "What are you doing?"

Curtly, he voiced, "I'm going out."

"Where to?" the detective probed in response, baffled by John's indecisiveness.

"Out." he huffed. Sherlock stood, uncaring for his nudity, crossing the room to confront the man, who averted his eyes in anger. "Sherlock-" he warned lowly, his tone firm.

Narrowing his eyes, Sherlock subjected him to his deductive gaze, tilting his head in confusion as he spoke what he found, "You barely checked the time, let alone have somewhere to be. You didn't shower last night, suggesting that you needn't be anywhere in a hurry this morning. You're wearing yesterday's clothes, which have been on the floor for the most part of the night, so you don't care about seeming presentable or kept."

Shifting his weight uncomfortably, John clenched his jaw.

He continued with haste, "All factors suggest that you have no where to be, yet the distinct lines on your forehead tell me that you're annoyed. So, you want to go out but you have no where to be, which suggest that you want to escape your current predicament. Going by the fact that you're clearly annoyed, and that you haven't received a text or call since you woke up, I must be the one that caused said annoyance." the man's features changed with each conclusion he made, though John continued to stare blankly with annoyance.

"But how? I haven't said or done anything remotely unkind or rude-" Sherlock's words slowed at once, a gasp escaping his lips as they twitched with amusement. "Oh. It's not about what I did do, it's about what I didn't." the doctor met the pair of erratic grey eyes, piercing them with his own glare. A laugh caught in his throat, he grinned smugly, "You wanted to have sex."

"And what if I did, Sherlock? I certainly don't anymore." continuing to shrug on his clothes, he fiddling with the buttons of his jeans, his head down and his eyes on the floorboards. Embarrassment lit his cheeks.

Frowning, the brunette spoke with confusion laced in his tone, "But we had sex last night? Wasn't that enough?"

"No, Sherlock, we didn't." John growled, forcing eye contact with the man, "You got me off and then that was it. You didn't even let me near you."

Sherlock's confused glare only intensified, "Why would you want to do that?"

"Because that's what people do - couples - they get each other off because it's a mutual partnership." his features creased with frustration, his fingers rubbing his forehead, originally unbeknownst that such words needed to be said to the clever detective in the funny hat.

"Oh." he responded, confusion and anxiety absent from his expression, fascination the only emotion he portrayed. "I suppose that does make sense; mutual partnership." the words rolled from his tongue testingly. Shaking his head briefly, as if clearing his thoughts, Sherlock allowed a small smile to form. John, who now watched his lover with intrigue rather than anger, reflected the affectionate action, grinning as he pulled the man into an embrace.

"You're an idiot." he murmured, his skin warm against the pale brunette. Humming in acknowledgement, Sherlock touched his hand to John's waist, which stood bare to the detective's touch.

Leaning into the doctor's ear, he muttered, his voice deep with arousal, "About that mutual experience..."