Consider love - A Johnlock

13. Bacon and eggs.

John entered Sherlock's bathroom and hanged his undershirt, socks and red pants over the towel rack, shuddering as he stood fully naked. He then turned on the water, bringing it to a comfortably warm heat and stepped into the shower with a grateful sigh, pulling the door shut behind him as he stepped under the hot spray. Instantly, John sighed out in relief as he felt the hot water spray over his tense body. John leaned his arm against the tiled wall, closing his eyes as he felt all the problems slowly ease away from him. He reached for the soap, lathering it in his hands before rubbing various body parts to get clean.

After he finished, he got out of the shower and dried himself with a soft yellow towel and wrapped the towel around his waist. He then ruffled his wet hair and smiled stupidly at himself in the mirror. He's going to live with Sherlock Holmes. The Sherlock Holmes. His Dutch teacher. What will people think? Ah, they will just become flatmates. There is nothing wrong with two fellas sharing a flat, having coffee or tea every morning, breathing in the same room, saying good morning and goodnight every day to each other. Maybe John can be present on one of Sherlock's cases one day? Wouldn't that be amazing? John was glad to be done with the lonely nights and the financial problems. He wanted to move in ASAP. Maybe tonight already? He kept smiling at his reflexion like an idiot, lost in his thoughts, until a knock on the door disturbed it. He frowned, waiting on another sound, to be sure it was real or in his thoughts.

"John?" A familiar low voice asked. John shook his head slightly and checked if his towel was firmly wrapped around his waist, avoiding an awkward situation. After he was sure, it wouldn't fall down this time. He answered.

"Yes?" John said, staring at the wooden door.

"Can I open the door?" He asked gingerly. John released a frown at first but after that his face heat up and he opened the door slowly, peeking out. He saw Sherlock standing in front of him with his wild curls hanging over his forehead. He had a pile with clothes in his hands. A white jumper, green pants, socks and a jeans. John's jaw dropped open as he opened the door more. Sherlock rolled his eyes with a smile.

"Don't ask. My brother sent this." Sherlock said, bit amusingly and handed the pile of clothes to John. John accepted it and looked at the size. He frowned at the sign of the identical size of his own. How did Sherlock's brother know what kind of clothes he wears and which size? They never met before. And how the hell did he know which size of pants he has?

"How did...-

"I have no idea." Sherlock cut him off, shrugging, scanning John's upper body, as the drops slide down John's well build naked body. Sherlock bit on his bottom lip, his face reddening. Lucky for Sherlock, John was staring at the clothes with disbelief. Otherwise he would see Sherlock's red tomato face and his staring.

"Well, that's creepy." John chuckled, again briefly glancing at the clothes he just got and then he locked his eyes with Sherlock's.

"Once I was in a store with my mother. She was standing in the fruits department, deciding if she wanted red apples or green ones.
She was standing there for ten minutes. I was annoyed by her dullness so I walked around. And suddenly I was standing in front of pink underwear. Somehow it stared at me and I kept watching it. It really stared at me. " John laughed as Sherlock kept talking about the pink underwear. "Then, I rushed to my mom, Of course I didn't tell her about the pink underwear staring at me. She would call me insane. So when I was back home, three hours later, Mycroft walked in my room with that pink underwear. And I'm 100 percent sure that it was the one that was staring at me in the store." Sherlock told John tranquillity. John chuckled amused and stared at Sherlock with pure joy.

"How old were you?" He asked smiling like the Cheshire cat, placing the pile of clothes carefully on the cabinet, not wanting to move a lot, what would cause his towel to fall down. And Sherlock to meet John's private part.

"Young enough." Sherlock muttered, looking at his feet. John narrowed his eyes, ducking his head a little bit so he could see Sherlock's eyes better. He gave him a teasing smile what made Sherlock sigh and roll with his eyes.
"I was 21." He mumbled, not looking in John's eyes. John of course, react like every human being would do and laughed, putting his hand on Sherlock's shoulder, so he could steady himself.

"Ohmygod, Sherlock." John said loudly, wiping the tears of laughter off his face. He rubbed his cheeks because they hurt from smiling too long. Seeing Sherlock pouting made him laugh even louder. Sherlock stood there with his arms outstretched beside his body, standing there like a stick.

"He was really staring John." He assured, feeling offended.

"Okay." John snorted. "Can I put on my clothes?" John asked, biting on his lip, trying to hold in his laughter. Sherlock gave him a look and turned around. John was closing the door as he heard Sherlock's voice again.

"How do you want your eggs?" Sherlock asked with his low voice, walking over to the fridge.

"Oh, I'm not hungry." John lied.

"Don't lie to me, John. I've heard your tummy begging for food." He informed, grabbing two eggs out of the fridge.

"Well, I am busted." He said. Sherlock smirked, bending down so he could grab the fry pan. "Surprise me." John said fondly, closing the door. He put on the clothes he just received from Sherlock's brother Mycroft. He looked at himself and the new clothes. He frowned. They fit him perfectly.

After five minutes, John slowly made his way into the living room, the sun was shining brightly inside. Sherlock must had opened all the curtains. There was a delicious smell present inside. John searched for Sherlock, and found him as he turned off the stove and poured the scrambled eggs from the pan onto a fancy white plate. Fruit juice was standing on the table, with bread and butter.

"Something smells delicious." He said, smiling sweetly at Sherlock's back. Sherlock looked over his shoulder briefly and then put the plate in his hands and walked over to the table, placing it down.

"I must say. This is my first time that I succeeded to fry eggs with bacon" He informed John with a proud smile plastered on his face. John chuckled and walked over to where Sherlock laid the plate down, ready to have breakfast together with Sherlock. He then frowned, crossing his arms as he found out that Sherlock won't eat. He coughed, looking at Sherlock.

"What?" He asked innocently.

"Don't pretend you don't know." He stated.

"Know what?" John gave him a glare.

"You have to eat breakfast Sherlock you know that" John said

"I'm not hungry I'll eat later" Sherlock said wryly, his eyes closed.

"Well. I'm planning to bake another apple cake. I might eat it alone then." He said, fake disappointingly. He know Sherlock loved his apple cake. Sherlock never licks his fingers after he ate something. And since he did it with John's apple cake. There is no way he disliked it.

"You are a mad man John Watson." He said, narrowing his eyes.

"Get used to it." He grinned.

"I will." Sherlock replied, smiling fondly with sparkles in his eyes. He then grabbed a plate and smeared a bread slice with butter and ate it.

"Good boy." John smirked.