Happy Birthday, John.

One Shot

John woke up late to a strangely quiet flat, no Sherlock playing  violin or watching television, no Mrs. Hudson rocking out to her tunes while cleaning, and no intruding clients pleading for their, well Sherlock's, assistance. John sat up in bed sighing about how empty the other side of it was. He wished Sherlock would have climbed in and curled up next to him last night, instead of going to his room after their make out and cuddling session on the couch.

John wasn't totally sure what they were doing, he assumed Sherlock probably knew,  but John was too afraid of what the answer may be if he questioned him.

Downstairs Sherlock was an anxious mess, today was John's birthday, and he wanted to do something that would make him really happy. However, he couldn't think of anything special to do, that the Army Doctor would enjoy.

Sherlock was sitting still on the couch thinking, when John walked in the room running his fingers through his slightly messy, light colored hair. He was wearing pajama pants and his robe that was completely open, exposing his toned, somewhat muscular torso. Sherlock can feel his face becoming heated, but quickly composes himself.

"Good morning." John says nicely, looking over at the cute detective.

"Morning." Sherlock says turning his face away from John. The lovely doctor tilts his head in confusion at Sherlock's action, but shakes it off and heads into the kitchen to get himself a cup of tea.

Sherlock sits eerily still as he listens to John's movements in the other room. As John exits the kitchen, Sherlock jumps up from his chair and rushes towards his room.

"Sherlock?!" John yells shocked at the sudden, enthusiastic action of his slender flat mate.

Without stopping the brunette says loudly "I'll be back." John sits down in his chair, he shakes off his confusion about Sherlock running off. He hopes to himself that its just Sherlock's usual cute, oddness and not a sign that Sherlock regrets their heated make out session last night. They've been doing it more and more lately, but it never has gone past intense kissing and some light groping, but John loves it now the less. He is confused about it though, and it worries him that he's always the one to initiate it. However, Sherlock is always very eager to feed into John's, and seemingly his own, desires. As he waits for his lovable detective's return, he imagines Sherlock leaning down and pecking him on the lips before pulling away quickly, his face turning cherry red. John can feel himself smirking as he envisions himself pulling a flushed Sherlock into his lap, and kissing and nipping at those pretty pink lips.

Suddenly Sherlock is in the room with him, fully clothed and his curls tamed. John quickly crosses his legs to hide his problem. "Where are you going?" John asks the taller man before him.

"I'll be back, Lestrade needs me." He replies calmly slipping his long coat on, popping the collar up causing attention to be drawn to his high, gorgeous cheekbones.

"Oh, wait just a second, I'll come with you." John says standing up.

"No, that's fine, I wont be long."

"Just wait, I'll be quick."

"John, I don't want you to come with me." Sherlock says with an expressionless face. John inhales a deep breath and blinks, trying his hardest to keep his face emotionless.

"Okay." John replies simply.

"Bye." Sherlock says. John just lifts one corner of his lips in a half smile when he realises the brunette is waiting for a response from him. Sherlock nods and exits the room, John listens as Sherlock walks down the stairs, then opens and shuts the front door behind him.

The lovely, handsome doctor lets out a long sigh when he's for sure he's alone. He tries to push away the frown he can feel present on his countenance. Sherlock just says things sometimes that seem really hurtful, but John knows he probably doesn't mean them to be perceived that way. Just like how he has said things that have hurt Molly Hooper countless times, but did not intend to hurt her. John runs his finger through his hair and sits back down.

Sherlock walks around for a bit feeling lost, his plan was just to walk about until he found something that made him think of John. Something that would surprise, and bring joy into the eyes of his strong soldier. After searching for a couple hours he feels hopeless and even tries calling Lestrade, Molly, and Mrs. Hudson for some ideas, even though he hates asking for their help. However, all their ideas were unoriginal and no where near good enough for John, at least in Sherlock's opinion. A few more hours pass as he continues to look when he decides to give up. He sits down on a park bench feeling a little exhausted and disappointed in himself for not being able to find one thing to give to John. He just really wants John to be pleased with him, to make him so happy that the blond wraps his strong arms around his slim body and pulls him in for a passionate kiss that makes Sherlock lose all strength in his legs. Then, he wishes John would begin sucking and biting down the his plain, slender neck causing moans to pour out of him. Next John would let out an animalistic growl as he pushes Sherlock down onto the couch, and begins unbuttoning his shirt and applying more kisses down his chest.

However, Sherlock's lovely daydream is cut short when he realises how indecent it is to be thinking about this in public, at a park, where there are other people and even children. His face is all red, he's beginning to perpetrate, he has a... problem. He takes a few deep breath trying to calm himself and make it go away. When that doesn't really work he just thinks about Anderson for a few seconds and its gone immediately.

With that he heads home, with nothing to show for all his hard work.

When Sherlock walks into the flat, he's greeted with the sight of his best mate staring out the window, shirtless, drying his wet hair with a towel. He can't stop his mouth from falling open a bit and his eyes from raking down the sexy soldier's body.

"Oh good, you're home," John says setting his  towel down, Sherlock forces himself to close his mouth and turn his head away to hide the rosy pinkness he feels in his cheeks. "I texted you, I was about to call Greg."

"Greg?" Sherlock asks suddenly confused. John gives the taller man a slight glare then can't stop from smirking.

"Lestrade, I was getting worried."

"Oh right, I'm sorry, it took a lot longer than I originally expected."

"It's fine, so what did you have to do?"

"Um I was looking for something, but things didn't really go as planned." Sherlock explains walking towards John, his face still a little flushed.

"What were you looking for?" John asks.

"Something for you." Sherlock admits with a bit less confidence in his voice, moving even closer to John, to where he can smell the army doctor's intoxicating, warm scent.

"For me?"

"Yes." Sherlock says shakily, leaning down, his and John's faces only inches apart, he lifts his trembling hand to John's cheek. The words, "Happy Birthday, John." are whispered just as Sherlock gently, shyly brushes his soft, pink lips against John's.

A huge grin forms on John's face and there's a hint of mischief behind his eyes, he wraps his arms around the blushing detective's slim body and pulls him into a loving, heated kiss.