The first door opens to Mayhem

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This part is all third person.
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John walks into the living room. He makes his way to the kitchen, not paying attention to the absence of his flatmate. Soon all the basic needs of a diet were tidied in the cupboards and around the body parts in the fridge. John got used to this sort of stuff.
He also got used to the quietness of the appartment when Sherlock was on a case and out before John even knew there was a case. John learnt that it wasn't personal, just Sherlock.
John felt odd about this quiet though. Sherlock wasn't on a case. Sherlock had no need to escape. The door wasn't locked. Sherlock's coat and shoes were still here. Sherlock was still in the appartment. This wouldn't be concerning but John knew better. Sherlock would always be in the living room, doing various things: looking for cases, playing the violin, reading a book or newspaper, experiementing or checking his laptop for reasons.
John walked in his room. No one, nothing suspicious. He didn't hear anything coming from the bathroom.
John sneaked forward towards Sherlock's room. He had to be in there. There was sounds, John couldn't disinguish, coming from that room. The door was left slightly open, just enough for peeking through. John did just that...

"Fu~uck...uh..hmmm" Sherlock moaned.

Sherlock was on all fours on his bed. His pale long fingers were inserted into himself. The other hand was gripping the bedsheets. His fore arm rubbed against his very hard cock in sync with his fingers. Sherlock's head was rised high, his eyes closed shut. His mouth was open with the occasional moan.
John just stood there. His eyes were fixed and fascinated by the sight infront of him. John's mouth was wide open and so was his eyes. His mouth felt dry. Blood was going both to his face and someplace southern.
"Ummmmmhm, John... hhmm" Sherlock's eyes were still closed, still unaware that his crush was watching.
John snapped back to reality at the mention of his name. He surely must've misheard him.

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