John slowly walked downstairs after getting dressed, the same question pounding through his head though he tried to ignore it; why hadn't Sherlock come and slept in bed with him?
He shook his head irritably, already in a bad mood. Apparently he couldn't get a good night's sleep without Sherlock, which made him annoyed at himself and sink deeper into his bad mood. He skipped his tea, and grabbed his jumper, storming past Sherlock and straight down the stairs. His bad mood deepened even more when all the cabs ignored him, forcing him to walk.
He arrived late with a massive headache, and Sarah was being rude and unhelpful. His clients are were whiny and annoying. Sarah made him stay after work to do paperwork at which point he was ready to shoot something. Even that blasted smiley face on the wall.
His patience was wearing thin as he entered the flat at 7pm, and then remembered he had to go out with Greg. He marched straight up to his room and changed into something nice. He shaved, for he was in dire need to, and stomped back downstairs.
As he walked past Sherlock, who was sitting on the couch, watching him silently with those grey eyes of his, Sherlock called out, slight panic in his tone, "where are you going?"
John paused, twisting to face Sherlock. He looked so forlorn, that John could help but go over and kiss him, letting out all his frustration. "Out," he whispered softly as he pulled back.
"With Greg?" There was something in his tone that made John think.
A small smile crept up on his face for the first time that day. "Hang on, are you jealous?" He asked gleefully.
Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "Of course not! I just sincerely wish that I was going with you instead of Greg!" he protested.
John's grin widened. "You are jealous, Sher!"
Sherlock's eyes softened for a second when John said his nickname, and then he determinedly turned his head away. John chuckled, kissing Sherlock again. He was too cute sometimes.
"I'll be back at around 10, OK?" When Sherlock remained silent he reminded him, "I love you, Sherlock."
Sherlock let out a soft sigh, turning to face John again. "I love you too, John. I'll be waiting for you when you get home!" he called as John gave him another quick kiss and walked off, waving goodbye.
He whipped out his phone, texting Greg, 'I'll meet you outside the restaurant in 10'
John actually had a good time with Greg. They talked a lot (mostly about Mycroft and how jealous he would be) and jus generally had a good time. John had gotten a candle for the table, to make it look more like they were on a date, and they had gotten the food half-price. When Greg had gotten in the cab, John looked straight into the security camera, lent down and kissed Greg on the cheek.
John had been whistling as he climbed the stairs, sure that Mycroft would be seething mad. What he didn't expect was to find Mycroft sitting on the couch with Sherlock sitting in the armchair, glaring at him. John grinned widely. "Jealous, Mycroft?" he teased, taking off his jumper as the fire was on and heating up the room nicely.
Mycroft snorted; his expression cold. "Don't be silly, John. I just dropped by to tell you to stay away from my Greg."
John chuckled, "you both have the same problem," John said, waving his hand between Sherlock and Mycroft. "You both don't like to admit when you're jealous. Besides, if you are stupid enough to push him away, someone else will take him. Now, you will go to Greg and apologize by tomorrow evening or, so help me, I will take Greg away from you forever. Got it? Good, now leave, I have some catching up to do with Sherlock."
Mycroft glared at him, and then stood, swinging his umbrella, and slammed the door shut. John chuckled. "How was your date with Greg?" Sherlock asked stiffly, avoiding John's eyes.
"It wasn't a date, Sher, it was just to get Mycroft jealous, which, by the way, worked," John chuckled, walking over to Sherlock.
He straddled Sherlock's waist and leant forward until their breaths mingled. "I missed you today," he whispered, staring into Sherlock's eyes.
Sherlock smiled, his eyes fluttering shut in anticipation. "I missed you too," he breathed.
John grinned and closed that tiny gap between them, moaning as their lips connected and started moving together. John's hand crept into Sherlock's hair, the other on Sherlock's chest. John slipped his tongue out and gently caressed the seam of Sherlock's mouth. Sherlock gave a breathy moan, mouth instantly opening for John. Sherlock pulled back and started kissing down John's neck. He learnt fast and knew that his neck was John's one weak spot that made him turn to jelly. He filed the information away for later, just in case he ever needed it.
There was a knock on the door and they both groaned in disappointment. John was jelly, at the mercy of Sherlock, and he didn't want any interruptions. The knock came again, and John started shifting, obviously wanting to answer it. "Ignore it, John," Sherlock whispered, gently biting on his neck.
John squirmed, "Sher, I really think we should-" he was cut off by the door slamming open
Sherlock let out a low growl and John slid off his lap as a delighted looking Greg burst through. He didn't seem to notice as John stood; a flush crawling up his neck and he rubbed the back of his neck. He launched himself at John, wrapping him in a bear hug. John heard Sherlock stand, and he was suddenly ripped away from Greg.
Sherlock placed his hand on John's shoulder, glaring at the DI. Greg seemed unfazed, his grin as wide as ever. "Mycroft apologized!" He yelled gleefully.
"That didn't take long," Sherlock muttered.
John gently elbowed him. "Be nice," he muttered. "Good for you, Greg! But, why are you here then, if Mycroft has apologized. Shouldn't you be doing some catching up?" he grinned, wagging his eyebrows suggestively.
Greg's mouth dropped into an 'o'. Then, without a word, he turned and fled back down the stairs in a rush. John laughed heartily, going over and shutting the door, Sherlock like a shadow behind him.
A sudden thought struck John, and he frowned slightly, turning around to look up at Sherlock. "Have you eaten dinner yet?" John asked, glaring at him slightly so he would tell the truth.
"Ah no. Of course not, why would I eat dinner? It's so boring," Sherlock announced, waving his hand dismissively.
"For God's sake Sherlock! You need to eat, doctor's orders," John Watson exclaimed angrily, marching off to the kitchen to make him some food.
John, feeling proud of himself, set the steaming bowl of pasta in front of Sherlock. It was a specialty of John's one that was sure to be exciting for Sherlock. Sherlock glanced at the bowl and pulled a face. "Pasta? Really, John," Sherlock sighed, but John didn't blink.
He grinned, eyes twinkling. "It's a game. There is a hidden ingredient in there. If you can tell me what it is, I'll do whatever you want for an hour tomorrow after I come home," John said, watching as Sherlock perked up.
He grinned up at John, "challenge accepted."
John laughed, watching as Sherlock grabbed out a piece of paper and pen, taking a mouthful as he scribbled down notes furiously.
"Nope," John smirked, and Sherlock gnawed on his pencil.
Sherlock started getting frustrated, and John let out a low chuckle.
"PAPRIKA!!!!" He shouted, throwing up his hands.
"Oh for -
" Sherlock paused, a grin slowly spreading across his face. "Really? That's it? paprika?!" Sherlock jumped up like he did on that very first day.
John laughed, and then glanced at the clock. This was a good trick to get Sherlock to eat
He would use that later.
"Alright, calm down Sher," John chuckled, "it's 10pm, I'm going to bed, will you join me soon?"
After last night's incident, John was a little scared. Sherlock was still beaming. "Of course, I'll be up in a bit, I have a few calls to make," he said, waving his hand dismissively.
Still chuckling quietly, John made his way to the bathroom, making sure to get clothes beforehand this time.
Ruffling his hair to dry it, John stepped into his bedroom, completely exhausted and ready to sleep.
He didn't really see Sherlock until he accidentally half-fell down on top of him. Sherlock grunted, but didn't move otherwise. Shifting a bit until he was comfortable, John let out a yawn and kissed whatever part of Sherlock that was near his mouth. Closing his eyes, he embraced the darkness sleep gave him.
"John?" Sherlock whispered quietly.
"Mmmgrr," John mumbled sleepily.
"I love you."
Sherlock's quiet chuckle was the last thing John heard before sleep took him.