Kinky Detective Agency

Chapter 2

Sherlock sprung up in bed, he hadn't been able to sleep all night as something was keeping him up: John. See, he couldn't stop thinking about him. He wasn't sure why, but John seemed to be the only thing he could think of. In Sherlock's life never had he thought of something or someone as much expect his work. 'What could this mean?' Sherlock thought to himself; he pondered for a minute until an unexpected thought washed over him. He wanted to see John at that exact moment. So he slowly crept out of bed, really not sure what he was doing. He just wanted to see his short partner very badly. Climbing up the stairs swiftly, yet slowly he reached John's bedroom. He grabbed ahold of the door handle, gently pushing it open a crack, but to his surprise John was not in his bed as far as he could see. Making his way into the room he set a direct path for the bed so he could examine its contents and as he presumed, no one was in it. He stood while staring at the bed when he heard a voice come from behind him,

"Sherlock, what in the bloody hell are you doing in my room at 3 am?! Staring at my bed!?" The voice was of course a rather cross John. He turned to see the shorter man staring him down angrily.

"I think the better question here is why are you out of bed at 3 am, Wouldn't you say?" Sherlock responded in a very soft voice, clearly unfazed by Johns unhappiness.

"I was getting a cup of tea Sherlock, as I can't sleep and no, that is not the better question. I prioritize know why my roommate is in my room so late over why I am not asleep at this time." John replied, feeling agitated by Sherlock's immaturity.

"I, uh, could not sleep as well but for very different reasons, I am sure of it." feeling overwhelmed for having angered John, he left the room closing the door behind him. He crept back into his bedroom, noticing that his bed sheets had been ruffled slightly. Had that meant John had come looking for him as well? He glanced over to his bedside table, noticing that the cup of tea that sat there previously to his adventure was missing. That seemed to be enough to prove his theory. 

John sighed as he couldn't really be mad at Sherlock for he was doing the same thing after all. With little knowledge of it, his reason for being up was far more similar to Sherlock's. He couldn't stop thinking of the man wherever he went. Even the smallest things would remind him of Sherlock, like a simple piece of graffiti on a brick wall, which would remind of the case he solved with him about the Chinese Cypher. He certainly knew what this feeling was, he just sort of hoped it wasn't true. Sherlock was great and all, but dear god the number of people had told he wasn't gay, well he would have been lying to them all. Well maybe not John definitely still liked girls but right now Sherlock was his only concern.

He sat on his bed finishing his tea, then curled into bed, all well thinking of Sherlock.