1. Mysteries

Just a little fun idea i had. This is the first chapter of what could be a longer story. Sherlock. Includes what some would consider mature content (like the description of a kiss).

He looked into his eyes. These eyes, so much soul, such a burning desire to be with him. He slid his hand into his soft hair and pulled him closer. He could feel his hot breath on his lips. He yearned to attack those lips with all the passion that filled his heat. He looked into the eyes again and began to move even closer. He felt his lips bush against his own and now there were sparks of electricity keeping their lips together, pressing them closer… 

 

“What the bloody hell is that!?”

 

Sherlock was sitting on the couch, one leg tugged under the other with a book in his hand. John was peering over his shoulder.

 

React! Snap book shut. Uncross legs. Cross legs again. Lay book on table. John walks around the couch with his eyes on the book. Quickly pick up book. Book out of Johns reach. Conclusion: John would recognise my embarrassment. Avoiding embarrassment would be beneficial to upholding my ego.

 

Sherlock sighed unconcernedly.

 

“It’s a novel John. I’m well aware that your deductive skills are not at my level but surely you could have figured this out on your own.”

 

Nice. Still - a tad condescending but really not that untruthful.

 

He couldn’t help but smirk a little. He knew he wasn’t supposed to taunt John like this, especially when John’s confidence in his own deductive skills was lacking somewhat, yet something in their relationship allowed these sorts of conversations to occur without the situation becoming uncomfortable. A kind of relaxedness that Sherlock seemed to suck from everyone else he came in contact with. Still... This was a touchy subject with John.

 

He should have reacted by now…

 

John huffed.

 

There it was.

 

Sherlock still had his eyes on the pages though he’d stopped noticing the words. He glanced to the side.

 

Shadow indicates 30cm from the couch slightly to the left of my position. Arms crossed.

 

John was muttering something under his voice -

 

“I’m well aware…”

 

Sherlock picked up his mug and took a sip of tea. This tea really was excellent. Sherlock silently agreed with himself that John might not be the best at deducing but he most definitely had “tea-making” skills that could top Mrs Hudson’s. John continued but spoke up this time -

 

“Well “Sherlock”, I’m well aware that it’s a novel. That’s not what I was asking… I’m not a complete idiot.”

 

Even though the last part of Johns sentence had come as more of an afterthought, Sherlock snorted with laughter into his mug as he’d gone back for a second sip of the tea. A huge gulp of the hot steamy liquid spilt down into Sherlock’s lap. The book went flying and the rest of the tea now lay on the floor, as a wet, brown spot with the mug lying next to it. Sherlock’s hands were frantically trying to wipe off some of the scolding tea that had landed in a somewhat unlucky place. The smirk had gone and been replaced by a slightly panicked and annoyed expression. He quickly looked around the room with a searching stare. His eyes landed on one of John’s sweaters lying on the armchair he so frequently vacated.

 

Excellent.

 

Sherlock reached out to grab it, but was stopped in mid action by a tea towel thrown in his face. He took it and began wiping the hot liquid off his pants. Sherlock looked up to see John with a broad grin across his face. He scowled.

 

“This is what you get Sherlock. It all comes back around.” He grinned as he waved a finger around in the air.

 

Brilliant… Just bloody brilliant. This was not how the situation should have unfolded.

 

“Right! The Universe is punishing me by scolding my privates with hot tea.”

 

John waved his hands in front of himself.

 

“I don’t want to hear about your privates Sherlock.” He turned around and headed to the kitchen.

 

Sherlock dabbed at his crouch with a pained expression on his face.

 

The conversations with John might not be awkward but they’d become quite painful none the less.

 

“I think I’m going to make a cup of tea… Want one?” Johns grinning face popped into the open doorframe.

 

Sherlock looked up and scowled at him. Laughing, John’s head disappeared.

 

He stood up and glanced down at himself. The lower part of his shirt and upper area of his pants were soaked in tea.

 

This is Disgusting and uncomfortable. No reason to endure this any longer than necessary.

 

In one quick motion he had pulled down his pants. He stepped out of them and began buttoning down his shirt. When done, he threw it on the sofa. Sherlock picked up the book and was about to sit down when a shout came from the kitchen �"

 

“What in the name of God is this, Sherlock?!”

 

Again with the overreactions… Really, the disadvantages of having a roommate were beginning to outweigh the benefits. 

 

Sherlock sighed and got up. He walked towards the kitchen and realized halfway there that he was still holding the book. He looked down at it and decided that this was probably not the best time to bring up the subject of why he was reading this book. He imagined it wasn’t for the reasons John thought. Really it was quite fascinating: Love and affection. This mysterious force that can make people do such irrational things even when logic is staring them in the face. This had always been one of life’s great mysteries. Sherlock accepted this but was quite keen to keep his fascination with it a secret. He didn’t feel shame about the fact that he’d never felt affection on the same level as other people did, everybody he came in contact with already knew this, it was more the fact that he felt such fascination with it, and he must admit to himself, a burning desire to feel it, to study it… like a normal, mundane person.

 

Sherlock had been lost in his own thoughts when he was snapped back to reality as John came into the open doorframe, which led into the kitchen. Sherlock’s head turned quickly in John’s direction as he dropped the book.

 

John’s eyes widened as he saw Sherlock.

 

“Why are you not wearing any clothes?”

 

Sherlock stared at him with a blank expression.

 

Good. John had chosen to focus on that instead of the book.

 

Sherlock was uncomfortably aware of the book lying on the floor with some quite expressive illustrations facing upwards.

 

John had darted into the kitchen and came back with a flowery apron Sherlock had once “borrowed” from Mrs Hudson to conduct a particularly messy experime…

 

…Oh. That must be what John has found in the fridge. This was definitely something Sherlock would gladly have avoided.

 

John slid the apron over Sherlock’s head and walked into the kitchen, indicating that Sherlock should follow.  

 

Sherlock followed John despite what he knew was coming.

 

John opened the fridge and pointed to something inside. Sherlock walked over to John and saw what he was pointing at.

 

“An eyeball! An eyeball Sherlock!”

 

“There is no need to repeat yourself. I am well aware that there is an eyeball in the fridge.”

 

“I know you’re well aware because you put it there! And what kind if liquid is that?”

 

John squinted his eyes together and wore a disgusted expression.

 

“It’s preserved John. How else would I be able to keep it for a longer period of time?”

 

“No. This is not staying. You’re not keeping this “for a longer period of time”. I’m getting rid of this now.”

 

John made to grab the container but thought better of it. Instead he reached out and took a plastic glove that was lying by the sink. By the time he’d got it on, Sherlock had already taken the plastic container out of the fridge and opened it. He was pouring the liquid into a separate container that had been standing on top of the fridge.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Transferring it to the freezer. No liquid needed for the freezer. This was actually a brilliant idea John. Sometimes you do surprise me.”

 

John reached out to grab the container with the remaining eyeball from Sherlock. As he pulled it from him, Sherlock overbalanced.

 

John knew what was coming. The container with the liquid that had helped to preserve the eyeball for who knew how long was moving from Sherlock’s hand and… “Splash”

 

Damn…

 

The front of John’s t-shirt was covered in the disgusting liquid.

 

Sherlock saw how Johns face moved from staring down at the stained t-shirt and slowly coming up to face him.

 

Sherlock swiftly put the container with the remaining eyeball onto the table and stood looking a bit helpless. He looked at John then a small smile began form on his lips.

 

John looked incredulous.

 

Sherlock began to laugh.

 

This situation really was completely ridiculous and the look on Johns face…

 

Suddenly it seemed like John had gotten back the ability to move and he frantically tried to get the t-shirt over his head. When he succeeded he threw it as far as he could and sat down on one of the kitchen chairs looking exhausted.

 

Sherlock continued to laugh and after a while a smile began to form on Johns lips too which soon turned into laughter as well.  

 

John really is enjoyable at times. No, the benefits definitely outweigh the disadvantages.

 

Suddenly a voice came from the living room.

 

“What in heavens sake is this?”

 

Sherlock looked at John who was looking back at him.

 

This was going to be difficult to explain.

 

Mrs Hudson came into the open doorframe that led to the living room. She was holding the book in her hand and was currently staring at Sherlock and John as though they were ghosts.

 

The apron! The stolen apron…

 

Sherlock quickly took of the flowery apron and laid it on the kitchen table out of view of Mrs Hudson.

 

Mrs Hudson’s eyes moved from Sherlock’s face to his tea-stained boxers.

 

Oh no…

 

She looked up at John’s naked torso and an idea seemed to form in her mind.

 

She snapped back to reality and turned on the spot making her way towards the apartment door.

 

“Oh my. This really is to private for my eyes.”

 

John darted into the living room after her.

 

“No, no dear. You carry on. I’ll just leave you two alone.”

 

Sherlock could hear John frantically trying to change Mrs Hudson’s view on the situation.

 

This really was going to be very difficult to explain.

Author's Note

The characters are not my own (Sherlock, Watson, Mrs Hudson). I do not know if I'm allowed to post stories that include characters, which are not my own but i trust that someone will let me know if I'm breaking the rules and I will remove the story at once.