Baker Street Boys

14

*SMUT WARNIING 

*You might wanna skip this part as well.

*Have a nice day sweetheart :)

"SHERLOCK!" John screamed as loud as he could, his voice carrying through the entire flat. There was no way Sherlock didn't hear him. That still didn't mean he answered. "I'm just-I-ahhhh-"

It was the final straw.

That week started with Sherlock experimenting on him -while he was sleeping- something that he had apparently been doing for weeks. Then he had taken all the food out of the fridge for a reason John still didn't understand, letting it all melt and stink up the place overnight. That was followed by him taking all the towels they owned to his room, including the one John had been wearing at the time. And then! Then he had decided to bring a trumpet home, blaring it with all the air he had in his lungs at 4am. The violin he didn't mind but the trumpet was something Sherlock Holmes was not good at. Not at all.

So this, finding a dead mouse tucked into his loose tea...nope. No, no, no, no! Last. Straw.

"Sherlock!" John stomped into the living room and found it empty. He glared up the stairs and into the bathroom and still there was nothing. Finally he crashed through Sherlock's bedroom door, planning on giving him a piece of his mind -and the mouse's- but that all came crashing down when he was gob smacked by the sight of his flatmate and friend with all of his clothes off, his hand roaming around the ramrod straight cock bouncing against his waist, and chanting a very familiar name.

"John- J-John- Johnnnnn!" Sherlock jumped up as soon as he realized he had company, covering his erection with his hands and backing into the corner of his room. "I was- I- I was-"

John stared with an open mouth trying to find something to say –moving it a few times without result- but instead promptly turned around and shut the door. It was only a few seconds later that Sherlock came running after him with his housecoat roughly tied around his waist. John was throwing out his tea and searching the cupboards for more when Sherlock's angry –mostly defensive- voice reached him.

"You are very hypocritical. Do you know that?"

"Really?" Well this was going to be entertaining with John's face feeling as if it was on fire and Sherlock still half-undressed. "And how is that?"

"For all the times you yell at me for barging into your room unannounced you seem to have no issue doing it yourself."

"Well if I had known what you were doing I obviously wouldn't have done it!"

"What do you think I was doing?"

"That's not a real question is it?"

"No John, because I know what you think. You think I was giving in to the simplistic and primal practice of masturbation. Well you are wrong! It was an experiment."

"Well whatever you experiment about in your own time is fine. Just lock the door next time. And leave me out of it." John tired to leave the conversation by entering the next room but Sherlock was right on his tail.

"It is a real experiment. One that has been ongoing and you just ruined!"

"Oh good can't wait to hear this one. Go on then. I know you won't stop till I ask. What experiment?"

"It's too complicated for you to understand."

"Try me."

Sherlock just stared him down for a few awkward moments, not saying a thing with his eyes starting to glaze over. John could have sworn he even started to blush but maybe that was just him projecting his own heated cheeks. That stare was getting really intense.