Please dont hurt me for the last one. *dodges knife* jesus, here have this! *throws fic in your face* and stop throwing those knives! Enjoy! ♥

This was another boring day in 221B. Nothing special. Nothing significant. And as usual, Sherlock hated it.

"JOHN." He growled from the couch. John sighed, ready for the famous 5 letter word that would pop out of Sherlocks mouth on days like these.

"BO-" "NO! JUST STOP." John interrupted Sherlock, and Sherlock looked up, eyebrows raised.

"Do. NOT. Complain about being bored. I've had enough of it! You know what?! Since you're so 'bored' we're going to clean the flat today." John said promptly.

Sherlock groaned. "But Jooooohhhhhhnnnn" he whined, and kicked the couch like the 5 year old he was.

"No! We need to clean anyways, go through some boxes, empty the shelves..." John went on and on about the possibilities and Sherlock scowled the whole while through Johns speaking.

John pulled Sherlock off the couch, and grabbed his hand.

"We're cleaning the kitchen first. Im tired of all the green slime on the cabinets- and dont tell me its an experiment because you're too lazy to pick if up," John shot, before Sherlock could come up with an excuse. Sherlock just glared, but didnt say anything.

They finished the kitchen, almost blowing It up because Sherlocks chemicals spilt to the floor and lit up in flame. Soon they began with the living room, sorting through old photos, and boxes that had been left opened with case files shoved in them.

They threw away trash, John laughed at one of Sherlocks pictures of him as a kid, Sherlock snickered about Johns shortness in middle school, dusted the tables, mopped the floor, ect. Soon the Kitchen, bathroom, and living area were In order, and actually looked pretty decent.

"Right then," John sighed, looking over to Sherlock. "Clean your room-" "Yes mum," John sent a glare in Sherlocks direction, and he smirked, but John continued anyways. "And im going to go clean mine," They both nodded, and seperated ways to each others rooms.

As John began to sort through boxes, he gasped, and pulled out the camo uniform.

"John!" Sherlock called from downstairs. John looked up, and responded "Yeah?!" "C'mere!" John groaned and looked back down at the uniform In his hands.

"Uh yeah, hold on!"

After 5 minutes, Sherlock was getting impatient, and began to stomp up the stairs.

"John hurry u-" he froze mid sentence at the door, eyes widening.

"J... John," his voice cracked and John looked up.

"Sorry, I found this," The Blogger grinned looking down, gesturing to his suit. "I dont look as good as I use to though," John frowned a little. He glanced up at Sherlock, who's eyes were still roaming his body.

"Em... Sherlock," Sherlocks eyes flicked back up to his, and John turned red as Sherlock nervously licked his lips.

"I um.... if you could...." Sherlocks eyes kept darting to Johns everywhere as if it had its own brain.

"Come..... Come downstairs," Sherlock stuttered and turned red."To... help me..." John raised an eyebrow,

"Wow...." Sherlock whispered, and Johns eyes widened. "I... John," Sherlock tried to clear his throat, and meet Johns gaze.

"I... Um.." John raised an eyebrow at the obviously flustered Sherlock, and he tried to ignore the thick looks he was giving him.

"I guess I'll get undressed and out of this. I'll be with you in a second," John said, and motioned for Sherlock to leave his room, but Sherlock was glued to the spot, still looking at John.

"John..." He whispered and looked up at him through his lashes.

"hmm?" John asked, looking up, and his heart stuttered at the look in Sherlocks eyes.

He felt his throat tighten as Sherlock approached him, still keeping their gazes locked.

Suddenly Sherlock shoved John against the wall, and John gasped at the sudden physical attention.

His eyes widened as he felt Sherlocks hands land on his chest.

"Dont take it off yet," Sherlock whispered, and John swallowed, his heart picking up the pace.

"i.. okay," He peeped.