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Sherlock was hovering around a corpse, trying to find clues. Totally unaffected by the 50-years-old man on the floor of the abandoned warehouse, he was doing his job. Brilliantly as usual. Finally able to detach his eyes from the elegant dance his friend was making, John realizes that he wasn't the only one to be hypnotized. It wasn't something new, Sherlock always gathers attention. Good or bad. How could someone so bloody logical all the time can be so... sexy? I just don't understand how he could be so diametrically different on both accounts. Ice... and fire. Maybe he's a Northern God...
Smiling, John imagines his new flatmate in place of that actor playing Loki in that movie. He's of similar height I think, black hair, same disregard for human feelings... Kneel before me, yes, I can see it! John chuckles silently as a warm feeling of lust spread in his body against his will. I can see ME kneeling in --
"John? JOHN?"
Dreamily, the doctor replies "Yes, Loki?"
"What?" Frowning, Sherlock looks at his friend, puzzled "what are we, twelve? This is the most idiotic nick-name that I ever heard." Rolling his eyes, he asks a question about the corpse while John's cheeks turn a bright red to the other hilarity.