I'm rewatching Sherlock. I should've done that ages ago! I feel inspired to make more fanfictions. Also, there's a picture up there that I don't think is appreciated enough... Nothing to do with the story, but I was just at, "DAMN BOY" when I saw it. Uhm, he needs to stop? So does John, I mean, look at this bean.
*Cough* Gay! And! Adorable! *Cough*
Anyways, enough fanboying, off to the story...
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“No, Sherlock. Back off. I'm not in the affectionate mood.”
Sherlock pouted. “John, for the last two months you haven't been in an affectionate mood.”
“Oh, I'm waiting for the taste of lipstick to wash off your lips.” John said, focusing on his laptop. He continued typing about their latest case.
“John, when will this stop?” Sherlock sighed, standing up and taking his hands off John. He crossed his arms.
“Uhm, when you make a time machine and delete history.” John flashed a fake smile towards his boyfriend, then looked back to the laptop in front of him.
“So you're never going to kiss me again?” Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes.
“Oh, just give me time.” John rolled his eyes.
“I can't believe you haven't forgiven me yet, John, it wasn't my fault. She kissed me. I tried to pull away.”
“Yes, someone happened to photograph it and now your affair is all over the internet.”
“John,” Sherlock sighed quietly. “I--”
“‘Was in a pub,’” John interrupted. He already heard this story a million times. “‘And I was drunk, and I had no idea where Lestrade went. She came up to me and started calming my anxiety, and then she kissed me.’” John rolled his eyes. “And then you got a text from your then hospitalised boyfriend to come visit, you broke in, we talked, I ran out, Mycroft found me trying to jump off the London Bridge, we fought at his house, he hid and listened, you left and got high, I went back to the hospital, got my phone temporary confiscated, and passed out. End of story.”
Sherlock sighed. “John, she kissed me. It wasn't my fault.”
“Why did you have your hand on her?”
“On her arm? John, I was reaching up to push her away.”
John rolled his eyes. “You know I can't possibly believe that, right?”
“Wh--”
“Well, considering that the girl flirting with you and kissing you was Irene Adler, I have my reasons.” John shut his laptop and stood up. Sherlock took his hands.
“Sherlock, I'm not in the mood.”
Sherlock sighed. “John, I had no idea she was there. I haven't even thought of her for years, I… I really love you, John, not The Woman. She means nothing.” He cupped John's cheeks and smiled, stepping forwards, John stepping backwards each time. “You're what I like. First of all, you have the most important key component for being my lover.”
“Oh?” John asked, leaning back. Sherlock now had him against the wall. “What's that?”
“Well, you're a man.” Sherlock smiled. “Females aren't really my area, John, I told you that.”
“You can't just like me because I don't have breasts, Sherlock.”
Sherlock smiled, tracing his finger over the collar of John's jumper. “You've got sparkling eyes, and such a wonderful smile…”
“Yes, but you're not really one for appearances, Sherlock.”
Sherlock smiled mysteriously. “Oh, John, you know me too well.”
John shrugged. “I've known you for thirteen years…” he reached up, brushing Sherlock's hair away from his forehead.
“And you've been a wonderful boyfriend for three of them.” He leant in, kissing John. “Well, for starters, you really know how to treat a man, and your brilliant mind never stops amazing me.”
John chuckled. “My mind? Amazing you?”
“Of course. It's dull, like normal people, but it works like a firecracker, that's very rare… thoughts all over the place, just the right thoughts...” He smiled, moving closer. “Even when you can't think, and all you you can blurt out is 'Fantastic!’.”
John smiled, pressing his back against the wall. He stared up at Sherlock. “What else, Sherlock?”
“All your knowledge really pays off, John. There's nothing I'm more attracted to than a sexy doctor with military experience.” He reached up, cupping John's cheek. He was finally getting somewhere. He was feeling excited after two months of not being allowed to touch John.
“Really?” John grinned.
“Really.” Sherlock slid his hand around John's shoulder. “Especially military doctors that wear adorable jumpers, and the cologne that their boyfriend gave them two years ago as an anniversary present.”
“I liked the smell,” John shrugged. “Thought I'd stick with the brand.”
“Not just the brand. The one I really liked.” Sherlock smiled. John felt like he could melt at that smile. “And,” Sherlock grabbed his shoulders. “You shaved today.” He sniffed John's cheek. “New cream. Non-electric razor.”
John laughed. “What does that matter?”
“Well, you know I don't like facial hair on my blogger.”
John chuckled quietly. “Oh, I know. Rosie doesn't like it, either. She almost cried that one time, remember that?”
“When you put a fake moustache on, of course. She cried every time you put it on.” Sherlock chuckled. John smiled and reached up to wrap his arms around Sherlock.
“Well, detective, what else can you deduct from me?”
“That's consulting detective… no matter, though, let me see.”
He took a step back and glanced John over. He knew being a show off really made John all giddy, so he moved closer and didn't take another look at his body. He set his hands on his waist, staring at John.
“I don't know.” Sherlock said, moving closer. Of course he knew. He was just messing with John.
John laughed softly. “Of course you know.” He reached up, beginning to unbutton Sherlock's shirt. “You should give these poor buttons a break, Love.”
Sherlock smiled, letting John unbutton half of his shirt. As he did, Sherlock began telling John all of the deductions be could make of him.
John grabbed Sherlock's arm and flipped them around so Sherlock was against the wall. Then, he smirked, and pulled Sherlock in for a kiss.