Experiments (Sherlock BBC- Johnlock Fanfic)

7- Date Night

-John-

I awoke to harsh knocking at the door. I opened my heavy eyes to see a grumbling Sherlock get up to answer it. He was only wearing track pants, exposing his porcelain white back And messy curls. I couldn't seem to look away from him as he answered the door

'What do you want Mrs Hudson? John is sleeping,' Sherlock whispered angrily.

'Oh no I'm so sorry my dear, I was actually here to talk to him.'

'Can it wait?' asked Sherlock impatiently.

'Fine dear, fine. Ill be back later though and I will not take no for an answer!'

Grumpily, Sherlock closed the door. Glancing at me, he smiled shyly.

'Good morning John.'

'Good morning Sherlock.'

With a start he rushed to life, and started clanging about in the kitchen.

'John I'm sorry,' he called from the kitchen.

'What are you sorry for?' I yelled back at him. As he started to tell a reply over his incessant banging I got cranky.

'For gods sake Sherlock come and talk face to face.'

He walked out of the kitchen quietly, looking down. His cheeks were slightly pink. I instantly felt bad.

'Now Sherlock, why are you sorry? And did you put this blanket on me?'

Sherlock finally met my gaze. The pink in his cheeks had darkened.

'I saw that you stayed up waiting for me and fell asleep in the chair. Im sorry I didn't come home until 5. And I'm sorry I put the blanket on you, you just looked really cold.'

Sherlock clasped his hands together tightly, waiting for a response.

Looking at his nervous form and his pink cheeks, I felt the inexplicable need to touch him. I wanted to stroke his soft skin and curl my fingers through his hair.

'John are you okay?' Sherlock asked quietly.

I could feel my face grow warm.

'Sherlock you have... I just... You make me feel so... no it's all fine. Everything is fine, as long as you promise to sleep today to make up for last night.'

Sherlocks eyes grew frantic.

'John I can't sleep until I solve the case! I don't understand there isn't a link between victims and the messages don't make sense and they didn't leave anything! Not even proper footprints! Whoever is doing this is obviously a professional, and I have no choice but to wait it out until he slips up.'

Sherlock was gesturing wildly and his voice was growing louder. I grabbed one of his hands and held it.

'Sherlock, you promise me you'll get some sleep.'

Sherlock looked down at my hand. His long slender fingers laced in between mine and squeezed tightly. When I looked up, he was watching me with an intense gaze.

'I promise John.'

We both jumped when we heard a knock at the door. Sherlock jumped to get it, sliding his hand out of mine. I almost felt disappointed.

'Oh good John you're up! I'll put the kettle on. I have an opportunity for you John.'

When she walked into the kitchen she gave a small gasp.

'No Mrs Hudson it was a suprise!'

'Sherlock was this meant to be food?'

More clattering and banging was heard in the kitchen. I walked in to see Sherlock glaring angrily at a frypan. He'd managed to burn the eggs, and the bacon he was cooking to almost non existent crisps. Sensing his dismay, I piped up,

'Sherlock it looks great!'

'John you are a terrible liar but I do appreciate the sentiment.'

Mrs Hudson tutted disapprovingly.

'What was all this for Sherlock?'

'It was to say sorry to John. It's common human behavior for the apologetic party to do something materialistic to please whomever they upset.'

Shaking my head, I forced him to serve me up the burnt breakfast (which tasted as bad as it looked) while I listened to mrs Hudson's news.

'Well boys, Donna has scored herself some ballet tickets. The catch is, she has no one to go with, and she wanted me to pop around and see if you wanted to go with her John?'

'What about Sherlock?' I asked, 'she seemed to like him.'

Mrs Hudson laughed.

'Oh my dear John, we all know Sherlock here has his eyes on someone else. I think you do too John, but no offense but you could stand to get out of this messy apartment.'

Sherlock furrowed his brow.

'How come I wasn't aware you were interested in anyone?' I asked, feeling a mixture of curiosity and... something else. Was it jealousy? No way.

'He hasn't even admitted it to himself yet John.' Mrs Hudson sighed.

'I'm going to bed.' Sherlock stood quickly and exited.

'Did I say something wrong?' asked Mrs Hudson. I shrugged and munched on my burnt breakfast.

-----

At 6 I was dressed in a button down, blazer and jeans, waiting downstairs for Donna. Don't get me wrong, she seemed like a lovely person, but I have no attraction to her whatsoever. I mean, she was pretty but... I don't know. I just... wasn't interested.

A door closing from upstairs broke my chain of thought. Sherlock ran down the stairs briskly, dressed in a dark grey suit, with a blood red tie and his coat. The suit clung in all the right places and for some reason I couldn't take my eyes off him.

'Sherlock where are you going?'

'To the ballet of course!'

'But this is a date Sherlock?'

'I'm sure she won't mind. According to her I am "undeniably attractive"'. He smirked. I couldn't blame her.

I'd always thought that Sherlock had been a handsome man, but I never realized how handsome he was before he and back. It wasn't weird to look at him and think that he was so, so attractive. And to want to reach out and touch him, and oh, those lips, I wonder how it would feel to...'

'John? John are you okay?' Sherlock was looking at me concerned. Stammering and blushing, I realized Id just checked Sherlock out.

What the hell was happening to me?

Donna was finally ready and we headed off, Sherlock always seeming to sit in the middle of her and I. Not that I minded. We made small talk or they talked about Chemistry as we waited for the ballet to start.

Finally, the lights dimmed and the dancers got on stage. Donna oohed and ahhed from behind Sherlock.

I looked over at Sherlock to see him staring at me. It was the same intense stare as before, his eyes holding me hostage. We sat like that for a while, just staring, until he moved his hand to rest on top of mine. His fingers shone white under the lights, and my heart stopped beating.

Sherlock awkwardly patted my hand and reverted his eyes back to the stage. Nothing else about the night seemed interesting after that.