Work Text:
They in their living room; John Watson was standing behind Sherlock reading as he typed and started questioning the title “The Geek Interpreter,” but still bored as ever. Always bored he said, ALWAYS. Sherlock Holmes sat in the chair with the flag pillow typing in his blog. He had got them many cases from it. He often said without him John would be nothing, no solved murders or kidnappings without him, but behind locked doors he said without John there is no Sherlock. He was right. Not one without the other. They were inseparable, like two new born brother kittens, they were each other’s keys and themselves were the lock. They were more to each other than partnering detectives. They were to each other lovers, but not the in the sense of sexual, though they do, do that, in the sense of to be loved and give love.
Sherlock was the first to see it being more experienced than his previously virgin partner. Sherlock was in his thirties John was the same age even if he acted like the bloody Queen of England at her prime age of 61.
“Couch. NOW.” John nearly yelled.
“What? What about the couch?” Sherlock exclaimed tried of John’s puzzling phrases that always left him questioning John’s sanity.
“Get. On. The. Couch. Now.” John spelled out walking around the chair removing the laptop from Sherlock’s lap.
“Not now. I’m writing up our last case. The big one with all the comic books coming to life, I’m still so happy you solved it.” Sherlock praised before John hulled him up by his shirt and he thought, “damn even after all we’ve been though he is still a persistent man.”
They landed with Sherlock on bottom as always. John started to cafunẻ Sherlock’s hair with one hand the other lay on his shoulder. Sherlock moved first locking their lips together, John was the one that like to tease with tongue.
“Do you remember the day we met, John?” Sherlock managed to get out without moaning or breaking the kiss more than needed.
“Yes I do. I see it in your eyes, your body, Every time you mention it.” John answered before kissing Sherlock’s neck dragging his tongue up towards his ear, successfully getting a whimper out of him.
“Tell me…AHHH!” John had reached his ear.
“What the part about you being homeless with a brother as a drunk, what was his name again... Mycroft correct. Or do you want to hear about our first case after that.” John whispered into Sherlock’s ear with his lips grazing it.
“The very first time we met.”
“What’s in it for me except being bored?” John sighed.
“The interesting me of course.” Sherlock offered before John started resisting the event by memory.
“We were in my lab. I was trying something when you walked in. You were using your cane I read right through you it was very easy. I asked to borrow your mobile phone my excuse was I’d rather text. You gave it to me and I read through that too, also very easy.” John told as he stood pulling Sherlock’s shirt of simultaneously then his own.
“Then you asked if it was Afghanistan or Iraq, I didn’t understand what you meant.” Sherlock continued the story since John had started to go to his bedroom showing that he wanted his reward now not later and Sherlock followed.
“I asked which one it was, you said Afghanistan. Molly came in then with my coffee she asked if I wanted. No lipstick either made her lips small again.” John said plopping down on the mattress and started tugging at his pants.
“Violins are pleasant and their handlers more so if that answers your previous question, and I do mind that you don’t talk some times for days. I really do enjoy hearing your voice.” Sherlock answered before helping John with his pants and taking off his.
“Then I started talking about or flat and when you should be there.”
“How did you know about Afghanistan?” Sherlock asked before plopping down next to John, who then rolled on top of him and started rubbing his chest.
“When I asked if it was Afghanistan of Iraq you said Afghanistan, Sherlock.”
“You’re right I did. You just fog up my mind. I think you deserve your reward now.”
“I guess I do.”