I've been thinking about this idea for a long time now, and now I'll put it into words. Very short one-shot, enjoy and please comment! I want to hear your reviews :)

Disclaimer: Sherlock does not belong to me and belongs to its rightful owners. I do not own these characters.


Sherlock sat in his usual spot on the couch, his legs tucked in beneath body. He had the telly on, but it was tuned on an idiotic channel with idiotic shows, and it was on mute. He didn't really care.

He was thinking.

He's been noticing his flatmate a lot now. In ways one shouldn't notice his flatmate, but since when did Sherlock follow rules?

He noticed how John would wear a towel right after he took his shower. The towel would be wrapped around his waist and he would wear it until he got back to his room, where he would change into more comfortable clothes; usually jeans and a shirt.

When John wasn't looking, the young detective would gaze at him. Sherlock appreciated everything about John. He liked his sandy blond hair, he liked how John's body was short and the way it moved about quickly. He liked it best when it was summer because John would wear shorter sleeved shirts, showing off his very tan and muscular body. Sherlock wondered how those muscles felt.

He noticed and memorized John's quirky habits. He knows the army doctor likes 3 cubes of sugar in his tea, usually with a dash of fresh milk. He knows that John likes to sit back and drink a glass of wine every so often, and that he always takes his shower at 6 P.M sharp, and finishes at 6:05 on the dot.

He wonders if John notices him too.

Sherlock doesn't like to deal with feelings. He pushed away normal human feelings such as affection and compassion a long time ago and he never had to bring those out, until he met John.

So of course, he'll just have to let John know he likes him a lot using...alternative methods.

He sat back in his chair and smirked evilly. Alternative methods indeed.


"Sherlock, I'm home!" John called out to his flatmate half an hour later.

He trudged up the stairs and dropped the heavy bags of groceries on the table, before turning around and looking for the detective. Usually, Sherlock was in the kitchen conducting whatever crazy experiment he had in mind but he wasn't here today.

That's odd, John thought before moving into the living room.

"Sherlock?" he called out again.

He looked around the corner, and what he saw next made his breath catch in his throat.

Sherlock was sitting on the couch, and was licking a lollipop.

John stared at him, flabbergasted. Sherlock doesn't do lollipops. He doesn't even like biscuits, let alone candy. But there he was, sucking on a bright red cherry lollipop, the color already tinting his lips and tongue.

"Oh, hello John. I'm afraid I didn't hear you get in."

All John could do was nod slowly, his eyes fixated on the cherry lollipop that was currently being sucked into Sherlock's mouth.

Sherlock made a big show out of it. The noises that he made with his mouth were obscene, and every so often John would get an eyeful of that cherry-red tongue of his flicking past the candy.

And now it seemed as if all the blood in his body rushed south.

He was rooted to the floor. He didn't look away, he didn't move, he didn't speak.

He just watched.

The detective knew what he was doing had an effect on him, and he was proud of it. He smirked. "Is there a problem, John?"

John stuttered and forced himself to tear his eyes away. "N-no, nothing wrong. Just, uh, I didn't know you were home."

Sherlock drew the candy back into his mouth. "Really? I was right here, all day long."

"...Why are you eating that lollipop?" John managed to ask, shifting a bit on his feet.

"Oh, this?" Sherlock took it out and gazed at it for a moment, before drawing it back into his mouth. "Nothing. I just felt like eating something sweet."

John nodded a bit too quickly (of course, the detective noticed that) and shifted again. He felt his neck and cheeks burning pink and he looked away sheepishly.

Dammit John, stop thinking about your flatmate like that!

Oh but the thoughts that were running through his mind right now.

"It's really quite sweet," Sherlock commented, licking his lips. "It's a wonderful flavor. Want to taste?"

The next thing he knew was that there was a clash of lips and teeth and John found himself sitting on Sherlock's lap, his strong hands holding Sherlock by the collar, bringing his face closer.

Sherlock didn't let go without a fight, but the growl that escaped John's throat was enough to make him stop fighting for dominance.

He tasted wonderful. The sweetness of the lollipop and Sherlock's own taste was enough to drive John wild, and the way Sherlock just let him take the lead, his hands tightly secured around John's neck bringing him closer was amazing. He couldn't get enough of this.

The soft noises Sherlock kept making were doing crazy things to him. Oh, he could go on forever.

A few mind blowing minutes later, John reluctantly pulled back and tried to catch his breath. Sherlock's eyes were half lidded and his mouth was swollen and completely pink, the color even brighter after mixing with the lollipop. He breathed shakily and still kept his hands secured around John's neck.

John smirked and drew his thumb across Sherlock's lips.

"Sweet indeed."