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John was bored and frustrated and confused. They hadn't had a case for nearly three weeks, Sherlock was irritable to say the least and he was practically living in his dressing gown and pyjama bottoms. John missed his suits, the clean cut, designer suits that clung to a hip and skimmed a thigh.
John mentally kicked himself, 'stop it'. He had tried to convince himself, in the beginning, when Sherlock had first returned to him, that it was just relief to have his best friend back but there was more to it than that. He just had no idea what to do about it. There were times, in his past, that he had wondered about himself, wondered if his sisters lifestyle might have been genetic. Nothing had ever happened, his attraction to the same sex, had seemed to be purely curiosity and before a woman had always won his attention.
Recently though he had found his gaze lingering on Sherlock and it wasn't just his eyes lingering there. Too often he had dreamed of Sherlock, his voice, his hands...
Hence John's confusion and frustration. He didn't want to date, even turning down that barmaid the other night, unheard of!
"What the...?" A loud crash from the kitchen knocked John swiftly from his thoughts.
Sherlock stormed out the kitchen and glowered at nothing in particular before striding to the open window, snapping up a pack of cigarettes on the way.
"Now I've told you about this... " John started to say.
"I strongly suggest you do not continue with that line of thinking John." Sherlock spoke the words around the cigarette held in his lips. "I am smoking this now and that is just the way it is going to be."
John sighed but resigned himself to the fact that it was pointless arguing. If only he could find something else for Sherlock to do.
"OK, when you've finished that, let's play a game." John tried hard to make it sound like a good idea.
"Oh goody. What fun." Sherlock exhaled a lungful of smoke, the sarcasm in his voice positively dripping from every syllable.
John knew exactly what to do here, which buttons to push, so he went with it.
"Let's play Scrabble, you always amaze me with your vocabulary, I bet you could come up with some words I've never heard of." Yep, flattery, that changed Sherlock's whole demeanor. Suddenly he was standing straight and looking interested.
"Won't that be a bit one sided?" Sherlock muttered after another long exhale of smoke.
"Oh yeah, I forgot, I'm stupid." John muttered back. "We'll change the rules then, make it more interesting. I have to come up with words I think you would use and you'll have to come up with words I use." John nodded, mentally congratulating himself, he had Sherlock's attention now.
"I may need something stronger." Sherlock said looking at his rapidly diminishing cigarette. "I'm going to get dressed."
John smirked.
Within five minutes of the game starting John was getting annoyed.
"Have you forgotten our rules already? What does 'stridulation' even mean?"
Sherlock looked up, a slight frown on his face.
"It's the scientific term for the act of a cricket making sound. Really John I would have thought..."
"No, no don't do that. We were going to play by our rules remember. You're supposed to be using words I would use." John was happy, even with this, even with Sherlock being irritating, purposely no doubt. He smiled. "I wouldn't say 'stridulation', I would say 'chirp'".
"But I don't have the right letters for that."
"Then use a different word I would use, it doesn't have to be connected."
"In that case I only have one word I can use." Sherlock placed the letters on the board, joining John's previous word. " 'penis' " Sherlock said very clearly.
John giggled despite himself.
"I would be more likely to use the word 'cock'."
"You called that constable a 'giant penis' the other day." Sherlock said with an air of sulkiness that had John giggling again.
"Conceded."
The game proceeded with John dredging up every weird medical term he could remember and mostly failing miserably. Sherlock was doing much better.
"Cunt." Sherlock snapped the 't', looking very smug.
John's breathing hitched and he tried to think of a good excuse to end this stupid game right now. But Sherlock was having too much fun.
Every new word was spoken precisely and in that deep, velvet, voice and John squirmed, hopefully not outwardly. 'Fuck! I'm gay for Sherlock' His mind told him and he laughed.
"What?" Sherlock snapped.
"Nothing. I just really want to hear you say 'fuck'."
"Why?"
"I've never heard you say it and it's one of my favourite words."
Sherlock sat up straighter.
"It just so happens." He said laying out the pieces on the board. "f, u, c, k... " He leaned forward, invading John's space. His eyes seemed darker, John wanted to grab him, wanted to crush those plush lips to his own.
" 'fuck' "
John did grab him. He had Sherlock's lapels in a firm grip and his lips on Sherlock's before he even knew what he was doing. Sherlock did not pull away.
It was such a surprise that John did pull away, opening his eyes to Sherlock still so close, his breath hot on John's face.
"Shit!" John almost whispered the word.
"We did that one already." Sherlock quickly stated, yet he still did not move.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over .."
"Are you really sorry?" Sherlock interrupted.
John stared into blue green eyes and those eyes pinned him to the chair. He swallowed.
"No, not in the least."