A/N So, I may or may not have written this while drunk...I have no memory of writing it so I was either really tired or drunk so if it sucks I apologize lol. I think its kinda cute. Enjoy <3
Sherlock was shouting at Lestrade again. Going on about how he was an imbecile and that even a monkey could have done a better Job. I could see the rage in the DI's face and I knew I had to stop Sherlock or he would be getting his ass kicked soon.
"Sherlock." He ignored me, continuing his verbal assault on the older man. "Sherlock."
"-Shut up John-" he threw the words in amongst his rant, and I couldn't stop the flash of rage. I stepped closer to the taller man, not sure what my plan was.
"Sherlock." I growled my warning at him, only to be ignored once again. I struggled with the best way to catch his attention and before I could stop myself, I roughly poked him in the side. The room froze at the sound the great detective emitted at the touch. His words were cut short and he let out a loud, uncontrolled belt of laughter, and stumbled away from me.
His cheeks darkened and he stumbled over his words for a moment before practically running from the room. I looked over at Lestrade, we stood still for a moment before dissolving into a fit of laughter.
"Well I'll be damned. Sherlock bloody Holmes is ticklish!" The DI managed between giggles. Once I managed to breathe again, I apologized to my friend before leaving. I had a very upset Sherlock Holmes to tend to back at Baker Street.
When I finally arrived back at the flat, I walked in to find Sherlock curled up on the sofa, no doubt having a sulk.
"Hey, you know you shouldn't talk to Greg like that. He is the only reason you get the really good cases."
"Who's Greg?"
"Sherlock."
"Yes John?"
"Stop being childish."
"I'm being childish? You poked me violently at a crime scene! You know how much that hurt? I may bruise." I couldn't contain the giggle that bubbled up from my chest. In return I was thrown a nasty scowl.
"I was saving you from getting your ass kicked! Lestrade was about to kill you. Besides, it was amusing seeing you squirm like that. I didn't know you were ticklish."
"I'm not ticklish, that was merely my body reacting to being shot in the side."
"Oh relax, I didn't shoot you." I was starting to get frustrated again, I never was very good at handling his tantrums. "You know lots of people are ticklish, right? Its not a weakness, its just your body is sensitive to touch." Sherlock rolled his eyes and stood, coming to stand in front of me in a flurry of silk and curls. He was merely inches from me when he finally stopped moving, looking as though he wanted to hit me.
"John, stop being a moron. I am not-" I cut off his words, using how close we were to my advantage, by gripping at his sides and tickling him. He squawked, trying to stumble away. I held him fast and continued my assault, grinning wildly at the sight.
It didn't take long before we were on the floor, Sherlock squirming beneath me as I straddled his hips, pinning him down as he writhed against my hands. He was laughing harder than I had ever seen him laugh before. His cheeks were flushed darkly and there were tears on his face.
"John! John please-"
"Please what Sherlock?"
"S-stop!" I finally ceased my attack, struggling to catch my breath. He suddenly reached for me, a hint of mischief in his eyes as he attempted to tickle me. I stopped his hands and pinned his wrists above his head, chuckling some more.
"Nice try sweetheart." I winked at him, feeling slightly flirtatious in the wake of so many endorphins. "But I, unlike you, really aren't ticklish." He squirmed again, this time trying to buck me off, but I managed to maintain my balance.
"John?"
"Yes gorgeous?"
"Are you hitting on me?" I froze, his words suddenly drawing my attention to just how close I was to him. We had kissed once, a few weeks back. It was quick, rough, and fueled by adrenaline. Neither of us had talked about it after.
"What if I am?" My voice had dropped to a low whisper, and I repositioned my hands so I was gripping both of his thin wrists in one hand. I used my now free hand to run along his side, just softly enough so that the taller man could feel it through his shirt, but that it wouldn't tickle him again. I could hear his breath hitch. I grinned before pushing off him. I climbed to my feet and walked into the kitchen, leaving him lying there on the sitting room floor.
This could be fun.
