Johnlock

Experiments

John:

I wake up to the sounds of an explosion and Sherlock cursing profusely. I wipe the sleep from my eyes as I get dressed and walk out to see him sitting in his room with soot all over his face. And oh for the love of god. His clothes are charred and there are burns on his torso. Judging from what I can see, he has mainly 2nd-degree burns and one 1st-degree burn.

"John?" Sherlock asks, having just noticed that I am here.

"Jesus Sherlock! What the fuck have you been doing up here? I wake up and the first thing I hear isn't the birds chirping as a normal person would hear, but an explosion! And look at you! You are covered in burns! My God!" I was about to go on yelling at him but when I looked at him he looked guilty. I realized that Mrs. Hudson could've probably heard me yelling. "Just– ugh. Just let me take care of your wounds." Sherlock blinks for a second, then gets the strangest look in his eyes. If I were stupid I would have thought that it was love, but he is Sherlock, so he has no emotions. Especially not love. But what if— No I will not think about Sherlock loving me. That is stupid. I'm not even gay! But it's just a thought, no harm in thinking. You are still straight, just thinking about what Sherlock would be like if he were in love. Sherlock. In love. That has to be the funniest thing that would ever happen.

"Uhh... John? What are you thinking?" Sherlock's voice brought me back to reality.

"Uuh... I- uh– was just assessing the burns to see what the damage would be and what I should do?" totally not thinking about what it would be like to date you. Sherlock looked at me with those idiosyncratic eyes. I could tell that he didn't believe me but he didn't press further.

I dragged him to the bathroom and took out the aloe vera ointment that we have just in case something like this happens. I look at him and sigh. This is going to be one vexatious task.

After a few moments of Sherlock just sitting there looking at me, I got impatient. "Sherlock, your shirt," I ask him. He jumped as if he forgot that he was there at all. He might not have been there. He could have been in his mind palace. I wonder what he was thinking of. Oh, to think like Sherlock Holmes.

"Oh yeah." He tries to take his shirt off but then flinches at the movement. Well, then I guess I will just have to take it off myself. I reach over to him and slowly and carefully take his shirt off. He gasps at the contact and I blush a little. Why am I blushing over Sherlock? He is just my flatmate. That is all. Maybe he is a friend, but that is it.

When his shirt is finally off I sit back and look at him. Oh fuck. He's... hot. I blush and try to push the thoughts from my head. But the more I look at him the more I want to lean over and kiss him. NO that is gay, you are not gay you are just... slightly attracted to him, I mean who isn't, he is incredibly attractive. I push the thoughts away for good (hopefully). As I take the lube– I mean aloe vera. And spread it over the burns. Sherlock inhaled sharply at the contact.

"Sorry! I know that the aloe stings a little, but later on, it will feel so much better" Sherlock looks down at me and shakes his head.

"That wasn't because of the pain," he says. What? Why would he gasp when I touched him then? That makes no sense. Unless...? No no no, that is just wishful thinking, there is no way that he is into me. I am not into him. I am straight. I just like his cheekbones, his oh-so-magnificent eyes, his wits, his hair– all curly and cute, his torso.,(God, his torso, all perfectly shaped and how his pale waist decrescendos to a beautiful V.) how his legs are long and probably well sculpted, and his voice is all deep and seductive, and— fuck. I am gay. I am gay for my flatmate. I realize that there has been an awkward silence while I was sitting there silently ogling him, so to break that silence I decide to ask him one of the many questions on my mind.

"Then why did you gasp?"

b

Also, I do apologize if this is shit. I am not good at writing shit. 

With love,

-Jkhfads