Chapter Seventeen- Home, Sweet Holmes

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I don’t have a choice, but I’d still choose you.

 

-          The Civil Wars, Poison and Wine

(A/N- Sorry about the cheesy chapter title… I just had to. Warning- Extreme immaturity straight ahead. Well, I say straight… *Pun intended, I’ll shut up now* Enjoy!)

John
That night, Sherlock and I woke up to a rather unearthly sound coming from one of the rooms on either side of us. Confused, we stationed ourselves against both of the walls. It turned out to be the one I had my ear pressed up against, the one behind our bed. I checked the clock “4 bloody AM,” I narrowed my eyes. Groans and bedspring creaks that were all too loud drifted through the wall (thankfully this was the room that did not belong to Molly and Greg, as that would have caused a rather awkward atmosphere when we next saw them).

“Jesus Christ, can’t they turn it down a bit?” Sherlock muttered with an irritated look on his face. We buried our heads under the pillows, but the cringe-worthy noises could still be heard. About ten minutes later, Sherlock couldn’t take it anymore. He leapt up to stand up on the bed, and I half expected him to knock on the wall or march over there and tell them to shut up or something like that, but instead, he started bouncing up and down for some reason, causing the bedsprings to squeak.

“Sherlock, what are you even-?” I raised an eyebrow, but then he started saying rather loudly in a moaning voice. “Oh, yes, right there.”

“Sherlock?”

“Oh, OH GOSH!”

“Sherlock!”

“Play along,” he whispered and continued until he was almost yelling, jumping up on the bed faster and faster.

“Shiiiit… Harder…. Faster… Uuuuggghhhhhhhh…”

“What the hell are you doing?”

“What does it sound like?”

“It sounds like a pre-pubescent girl being dared to make sex noises at a sleepover party,” I said. He pulled me to my feet. “Just help me out here.”

“What are we-?”

“Giving them a taste of their own 4 AM medicine,” he replied, before starting to bounce heavily again. “Oh, hell yes, John, RIGHT THERE!”

I rolled my eyes, thinking to myself; I’m going to regret this, before joining in with his scheme.

“Oh, Sherlock, baby!” I started to jump as well. 

“Ah, ah, ah….”

“Mmm, do that again.”

“Gladly.”

“So we’re doing this until they stop?” I whispered

“Perfectly sound analysis,” he whispered back before raising his voice. “But I was hoping you’d GO DEEPER.”

“Naaaarrrghhhhhhhhhhh.”

“Hnnnnngggggg.”

“HNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGG.”

“HHHHNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGG!” 

We continued for a while until we’d heard that the noisiness next door had ceased to small, awkward mumbles and then had stopped altogether. We collapsed on the bed in a laughing fit.

“That was the most ridiculous thing I have ever done…”

“And you invaded Afghanistan,” Sherlock replied, and we looked at eachother wide eyed for a moment before bursting into hysterics again. He wiped a tear of laughter from under my eye, and then we switched off the lights again and I snuggled into him.

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