Nights When Boredom Strikes

Sociopathic With a Side of Boredom

Sherlock turned his face to John, who was wrapped around him.

 "John." He said, causing John to open his eyes and look at him. 

"Hm?" John responded. 

"Bored." Sherlock mumbled into John's hair. John just looked at him for a second, contemplating if he was serious. He thought he was so he just decided to ask. 

"Are you serious?" Sherlock looked at John with a puzzled expression. 

"Why wouldn't I be serious?" He replied, raising an eyebrow. 

"I could make a list." John replied, half to himself, noticing the genuine confusion on Sherlock's face. "Never mind." He said. 

Sherlock planted a quick kiss on John's forehead before getting up and going into the kitchen. John contemplated what had just happened and decided he was going to have to look further into his forgotten memories. John rolled on to his back, stretching for a second before following Sherlock out of the bedroom and going to his laptop to check his blog and his emails. He opened up a new document on his blog and started an entry about their latest case. "Sacrificial Satanists", not the best, but it fit. He heard Sherlock snort as he walked past. 

"What?" John knew what he was snorting about, he was just calling him out on it. Sherlock smiled and shook his head. 

"Blog." He scoffed before returning to the kitchen. John rolled his eyes and went back to typing his blog entry. He heard the microwave beep and the most awful smell John had ever smelled radiated throughout the flat.

"Sherlock, what in God's name are you doing in here!?" John yelled into the kitchen, setting down his laptop and going to investigate. He pinched his nose and looked over to the microwave. 

"Experiment, I said I was bored." Sherlock said, as if that explained everything he ever did. John saw what had caused the smell, eyeballs in a jar. 

"Eyeballs, of course." John said, picking up the jar. Sherlock took the jar and placed it on the counter. 

"Experiment." He said again. 

"You know, there are other things you can do if you're bored." John sighed. 

"Like what?" Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow at the doctor questioningly. 

"I could make a list." John said, grabbing Sherlock's wrist gently. 

"I didn't ask if you could make a list, I asked for other things to do." Sherlock said, pulling away from John to look into a microscope and write something on a nearby notepad.

Sherlock turned into the most illogical person when he was bored, running around the kitchen, checking various experiments that John didn't really want to know about. He stopped, mid stride in the middle of the kitchen, pressing his fingers to his temples and closing his eyes. John knew he wasn't going to listen to anything he had to say, especially in "mind palace" mode. He began to walk out of the kitchen when Sherlock opened his eyes and grabbed his arm. 

"Wait. Here." He said, handing John a bottle of pills. John's pain medication. He took the right dose and put the bottle back in its cabinet, moving back to his laptop. He checked for possible cases so Sherlock would stop experimenting like a maniac, now smelling up the flat with the stench of microwaved eyeballs. If he only knew what other kinds of crazy experiments Sherlock had been up to.

 Sherlock's brain was in overdrive. It was giving him a headache and he was getting really annoyed. He pressed his fingers to his temples and massaged to alleviate the pain, to no avail. He mapped out everything in his head and began organizing different topics in different areas, giving everything a place to where he could go back to if he needed. He deleted the unimportant things that were clouding his thoughts and felt much less overwhelmed. He gripped the side of the table, taking deep breaths and calming his heart rate, and eventually, his brain activity. I need something new to do, this is going to kill me. I wonder if Lestrade has said anything to John about a case. I'll check. Sherlock had finally gotten his thoughts under control, but he wasn't sure how long he could hold them.

Ah, yes! John folder needs updating, that's something to do. Sherlock thought, rushing quickly into his bedroom and shutting the door behind him. He slung the folder out of the cabinet and onto the desk and brought all of his John information to the forefront of his mind. He put it all in chronological order and began to play it back, he blushed involuntarily when thinking about his and John's activities in the bedroom. Sex never got boring, and Sherlock was confused as to why that was. He brought his thoughts back to John so they wouldn't trail off too far and get lost in the maze that is the mind of Sherlock Holmes. Once he recollected them, he began to write:

Entry 4: John's wound is healing and John is considerably more active. Teasing elicited a highly positive response, try that more often. John will remember this time. Location: Bedroom w/ me tied to the headboard. Discovering some of my own weaknesses: Hair pulling, growling, collar bone, hip, rib cage. John just started medications, 80mg Oxycontin every 6-8 hours, keep watch about behavior/reactions to stimuli. Grinning is one of John's biggest noticeable turn-ons, don't know why though. Do that more often as well. 

Sherlock closed the binder and placed back in it's cabinet. He pulled out the other folders containing his multiple other experiments and wrote notes, conclusions, theories, and deductions in their pages alongside articles and past research. When done with those, he returned them to their places as well and sat in the chair he was in to think for a minute. He thought through the things that deterred his boredom, forming a list of options. Cases, can't do that, and murder isn't a good idea. Experiments, currently working on them but they aren't really doing their job. Organization, everything's already organized. John, he's here, but I don't really want to bother him. He is really my only option though, so I'll try, I suppose. Sherlock sighed and bit his lip, wondering how to go about using John to cure his burning, agonizing boredom. Sherlock strode into the sitting room, sitting himself next to John on the arm of the chair he was sitting in, one foot on the edge of the cushion and the other one on the floor. 

"What are you doing?" He asked, turning to look at John, whose face was focused on the computer screen. 

"Internet." John mumbled, continuing to stare at the screen and scroll the pages. 

"Seems boring." Sherlock pointed out as he leaned closer to John. John noticed his close proximity and turned to look at Sherlock. 

"Kind of is. Why are you interested?" John questioned. 

"I have nothing else to do, John. I. Am. Bored." Sherlock almost whined the last word as he scooted even closer to John. John closed his laptop and placed it on the table closest to him before turning back to Sherlock. 

"Well, what do you suppose I do about it, Sherlock? I'm not the biggest expert to consult when it comes to things that make you unbored." John raised an eyebrow at the detective who had a look of something in his eye, something John couldn't quite place. 

"I don't know. I'm just so bored." Sherlock's voice became more of the voice that he used when he was seducing John, rather than the whiny five-year-old one. He slid himself off of the arm of the chair and sideways into John's lap, snaking his arms around John's neck and pulling him to where their lips brushed slightly. John moved in closer and pressed their lips together and grabbing Sherlock's bottom lip with his teeth, tugging it gently and sucking on it for a second before letting it go. He then glided the tip of his tongue across Sherlock's lip, causing a small moan to escape his throat.

"Still bored?" John mumbled the question against Sherlock's mouth. 

"Not so much." Sherlock mumbled a reply before visiting John's mouth with his tongue. John grabbed Sherlock's hair in both hands, pulling him back far enough to look into his eyes. 

"Just not so much?" He panted before moving his mouth hungrily down Sherlock's throat. 

"Definitely a highly reduced boredom level." Sherlock replied, curling his toes as John moved his mouth across his collarbone. 

"Good, I was tired of hearing about it." John laughed as he moved his way up to Sherlock's jaw line, tugging at his hair now and then, Sherlock's moans becoming louder and his control standing on a thin line. John was about to snap that line and Sherlock knew it, and he didn't plan on stopping him.