Johnlock Fluff And Oneshots

Pheromones

Sherlock had been working on a new experiment for quiet some time now. He had heard of the theory as a teen,  and thought it to be an excellent idea,  but never actually had the chance to accomplish the test until now. So the genius barricaded himself in his room, refusing all clients and worried speeches from John, who hadn't seen his eccentric flatt mate in several weeks.

Every day the blonde haired male would stand outside the door and gently rap against the wood.

"Come down to breakfast please"

"I made some fresh tea,  I'll leave it outside for you."

"Dinner is ready if you want any."

Yet everyday was the same. Sherlock would mumble out an unfocused "one second." and stay in his lab for five more hours. As each day passed by John grew more and more worried about his friend, and after several weeks of only seeing Sherlock on rare occasions when he had gotten up in the middle of the might for a glass of water to find Sherlock snatching an apple off the table and rushing back to his room,  John was determined to get answers as to why Sherlock was acting this way. 

So John stomped through the sitting area,  raising a hand to knock on the closed door with as much strength as he could.  He would demand to be let in and refuse to leave till he learned the reason for Sherlock's strange behavior. At least,  that's what he had planned.

But before his knuckles reached the wood the door was flung open and out stepped a grinning Sherlock.  His hair was a mess of wild curls,  falling in every direction and his clothes were crumpled  and caked in dirt. 

"I did it! I did it Watson. Ha!  Sometimes my intellect surprises even me. " He chuckled, leaning against the door frame tiredly.  It had been a long, strenuous task, but he had done it. He had finally finished the pheromone experiment.

"Why did you lock yourself up for so long?  It's unhealthy and rash.  You should've at least come out to have a proper meal occasionally." John ranted,  beyond upset with the man.  After all this time he had worried for the genius and now the man just waltzes right out of the lab room and laughs?  That doesn't cut it,  not for John anyways.

Sherlock gazed down at the smaller male,  instantly noticing the angry pout John was wearing. The man seemed genuinely upset by his actions and Sherlock couldn't figure out why.  He had said it was a really important experiment before hand, that in itself explains all of his actions... Right?

Perhaps if the boy sees his achievement then he won't seem so upset with him. With an excited smile the genius gripped John's arm, dragging him into his experiment room. His grip was far too tight, the blogger's soft skin pressed firmly beneath Sherlock's fingertips bruising from the pressure,making the smaller male bite his lip in pain. But seeing how excited his friend was, John decided to keep his mouth shut and worry about his sore arm later. There's no point ruining Sherlock's mood for something so simple.

The blogger crinkled his nose in disgust upon entering the maze of filth. Books were scattered across the floor, pages crumpled and folded.  A leaning tower of dirty tea cups and plated were stacked sloppily onto the old wood coffee table in the corner, sticky goop coating a pile of important police documents Sherlock was supposed to fill out weeks ago.

"Good God Sherlock! Do you ever clean in here?! " John gasped,  kicking a dirt caked handkerchief out of his walking path.  The room was beyond trashed. It would take days,  even weeks,  to clean it all up and knowing Sherlock and his way of cleaning, John knew he would probably be the one actually doing all the work.  It was either that, or let Sherlock scoop the mess up and pile it in the closet and under the desks.