(A/N) Um, I got the idea from the Internet. Don't kill me. I have no creativity this weather. And to the Whovians who read the title and freaked out a little, no. It's not them.
" I NEED A CASE, JOHN!"
Sherlock was in a pretty sticky situation, the cogs in his brain churning, grinding slowly together, achingly slowly. His immediate response was, naturally, to complain to his boyfriend. As was the usual, he didn't bother to check if said boyfriend was home in the first place. He groaned and dragged his hands over his face, then let his eyes dart around the room, trying to put his mind at work.
Normally, this would have sufficed, but Sherlock had been the only one in the flat for the last forty-eight hours, leaving nothing for his skills to excavate. Jumping over the arm of his chair, Sherlock continued to look around, wondering if John had been decent enough to leave his revolver. Sherlock raced around the flat, his hand itching to grasp either the weapon or his cigarette packet, regardless of the length of time he had gone without the crippling drug.
He snapped out of his frantic search, however, once the familiar footsteps of a certain doctor could be heard from outside the door to the flat. He felt a smile wander onto his face, regardless of his insufferable boredom. Most doctors prescribed medicines, but this one was different, this one was John Watson, and if Sherlock had his John, he didn't need any drugs.
John stood inside the door, groaning when he saw what Sherlock had done to the place in his fit of impatience. Bending over to pick up a mug that had been left to fend for itself for God knows how long, John rolled his eyes at the sound of footsteps advancing rapidly, not quite able to suppress his grin. He straightens up, putting his best acting skills into a convincing irate look. "I leave the house for two days, Sherlock, two days, and you manage to..." He gestured around the room, giving an exasperated sigh, doing his best not to laugh and give himself away.
Sherlock frowned lightly and hung his head, feeling a tiny bit of regret for destroying the place in John's absence. "Technically, it's your fault." He grumbled moodily, turning away from John.
John raised an eyebrow in amusement, all of his concentration going into not showing any signs of anything other than mock anger. "My fault? And how did you deduce that one?"
"You were gone for far too long." Was his simple reply, accompanied by a shrug.
John smiled and gave in, wrapping his arms around Sherlock's waist and burying his face in the detective's back. "Are you saying you missed me?"
There was a pause in which Sherlock's hands rose to touch John's, wich were resting on his all-too-thin stomach, his fingers softly caressing the back of John's hand. "I certainly did not find your absence pleasant." Was all he murmered, earning a small chuckle from John.
"I missed you too, Sherlock." He sighed, closing his eyes as he inhaled deeply, sighing happily as his nose was reacquainted with the farmiliar scent of Sherlock, warm and cozy, but with a hint of something sharp running through it subtly, a scent John could never quite place.
Sherlock carefully manoeuvred himself so that he was facing John, his perfectly formed lips curling upwards. "Glad to hear it." He mumbled, brushing his lips sweetly off of John's, causing him to tinge pink. John's hand moved up to cup Sherlock's cheek, his thumb stroking the cutting cheekbones with care, a gesture of affection.
"It's only been two days, damnit." John noted, chuckling lightly as he attempted to pull back from the embrace.
Sherlock made a whining noise, clutching John closer to him. "That's approximately one hundred and seventy two thousand, eight hundred seconds, John." He smiled lightly at John, his gaze searching for John's, which they soon found.
"Yeah, one hundred and seventy two thousand, eight hundred seconds in which you clearly haven't been going outside enough." John sighed, it being painfully obvious-even to him-that his darling hadn't been active over the past few days.
Sherlock frowned slightly, leaning back a little. "One moment you're telling me I'm too active, the next you're accusing me of quite the opposite!"
"Not accusing, just pointing out." John sighed, brushing his lips off of Sherlock's cheek. "We could go for a walk by the lake, if that interests you." He laughed a little at how quickly Sherlock had responded, a vigorous nod confirming he did indeed wish to go with his blogger.
***Timey Wimey Stuff***
John shook his head, smiling, as Sherlock folded his arms the moment they stood out of the car. "Cold." He mumbled, scowling.
"I don't care what you do about it, just don't turn up your collar." John huffed, pulling his jacket more tightly around himself as the biting wind ruffled the couple.
"Why not?" Sherlock asked, his scowl worsening as dark curls swept themselves over his eyes.
John looked up at him, smirking lightly. "Because you look super sexy when you do that and public displays of affection make people uncomfortable." His managed to keep his tone very matter-of-fact, wriggling an eyebrow playfully, earning a gentle shove from the taller man.
***Um... Time Skip...***
John was contentedly tossing crumbs of bread at the ducks that had been curious enough to venture towards him, when he heard Sherlock calling his name, sounding a little panicked. John looked up, an eyebrow raised and erupted into laughter at the sight which presented itself.
***Time Skip***
"I dunno, Mike. It's kinda hard to explain!" John wheezed through his fits of laughter, as he was giving his friend an account of what had happened.
"Give it a shot!" Mike told him, smilinh.
"Well, there was Sherlock, a ton of geese and what looked like a hastened retreat from the detective!"
Request on otter:
Comments/Improvements on hedgehog:
