Nights When Boredom Strikes

Revelations and Resolutions

John rolled Sherlock off of him and Sherlock sat up, stiff and not looking at John. It looked like he was bracing for something. John grabbed a towel off of the floor and quickly wiped them both down because it would be better to have this conversation at least somewhat cleaned up. Taking into account the last time we had this conversation, John won't be mad. Also taking into account that I had drugged his tea previous to that conversation, this could go either way. Sherlock was mapping out all possible outcomes as he usually did and the majority of them seemed to file under the category of at least a little bit 'not good'. 

"Sherlock." John was eyeing him, he knew, he knew how John was and he didn't really feel like facing that particular accusing gaze right this moment. "Sherlock, look at me." Sherlock reluctantly turned to face John, the glare he assumed was there was definitely there. "If I recall correctly, we have had this conversation before. I assume, since I could not remember said conversation until just now that I was one way or another under the influence of some form or another, am I correct?" John didn't give him time to reply so Sherlock assumed it was a rhetorical question. "I also assume, since there are more instances that I could not remember until just now, following that conversation, that you took my lack of anger as consent to continue with your experiment." John paused for a second, and Sherlock dropped his gaze to the mattress. "Damn it, Sherlock, I am not a guinea pig!" He took a deep breath and sighed before hooking a finger under Sherlock's chin and lifting his head up to look him in the eye. "I am not extremely exuberant about this, but I'm not going to hate you, or start ignoring you, or anything like that. So long as you do not use me for an experiment without my knowledge." 

Sherlock stayed quiet.

"Please don't do that anymore. I'm going to let you in on a little secret. All you had to do was ask me, you know." Sherlock raised an eyebrow lie this was something he hadn't really considered. 

"I would have jumped you as soon as you gave me the opportunity, probably. I thought you weren't interested so I didn't bother. Also, I tried to give you clues that I knew. I was getting little flashbacks and putting them to the test. I can't believe you didn't notice. I suppose you're a bit unobservant when you are otherwise occupied." Sherlock scoffed at the word 'unobservant', but he waited for John to explain himself. "The hair thing was a shot in the dark, but a good one. The hip thing was a test. Why do you think I've skipped most of preparation altogether the past couple times. I knew, Sherlock, and I thought of all people, you would catch on, but I suppose I was wrong." John chuckled a little.

"It's always something, one thing, every time. You're right, I should have guessed." Sherlock smirked a little, the smirk he knew John loved, to try and lighten the tension that you could've cut with a knife. 

"What did I tell you about that thing?" John said, pointing at Sherlock's mouth. 

"What? This thing?" He smiled harder, leaning closer to John , daring him to do something about it. 

"Yes that thing." He wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck, pulling their lips together, Sherlock's smirk quickly moulding to John's mouth and moving in sync with it. He moved to where he was leaning over John and ran his tongue across the seam of John's lips softly. John let him in without any hesitation and lightly meeting the tip of Sherlock's tongue with his own, all of the tension from just a minute ago washing away as Sherlock's smell, and taste, and just Sherlock overtook his senses. When they broke away for air, suddenly remembering that air was a necessity, John leaned in to continue what he started and Sherlock stopped him. 

"Wait, I need to do something." He explained, hopping off the bed and pulling out the folder. He opened it to his experiment notes and grabbed a pen. 

"What- Is that- Are you serious?" John questioned, looking at the folder with his name on the front, only catching a glimpse of the information held in there. Sherlock looked at him for a second and nodded before returning to his original task. He skimmed the page and at the end there was just enough space left for him to write:

Conclusion: Dr. John H. Watson is definitely interested. He is also forgiving, understanding, and the only human being I waste my time listening to. He's a puzzle, and I've only barely begun to scratch the surface. Hopefully I will have enough time to figure him out. I would go so far as to say I love him and if I was more certain of the concept I might even say he loved me back. No further data needed for this particular experiment but I won't be letting go of the subject any time soon.

He closed the folder and put it back because like he wrote, he has only begun to solve the puzzle of John Watson, so he will need the folder again. He went back to the bed and sat down beside John who was smiling like an idiot.  He said he loved me. These words were all that were flowing through John's head and causing the stupid expression on his face. He grabbed Sherlock's shoulders and pulled him in for a quick chaste kiss before leaning in close to his ear. 

"Since you aren't certain, I feel the need to tell you that I most definitely do love you back. As far as I can help it you will have all the time in the world to figure me out, and I'll always be here on the nights when boredom strikes." Sherlock's phone buzzed on the nightstand with a text from Lestrade. Judging from the first couple of words visible on the screen, a new case had come up. Sherlock bit his lip and looked at John. 

"Finish this later?" He asked, looking John up and down, taking in the sight of him. 

"Oh God, yes."