A/N: This is for Rosie.

Disclaimer: I own sweet F. A.

Giving In

'No,' said John as he flicked the switch to boil the kettle.

'John,' said Sherlock, 'why?' he asked flatly.

'Because it's weird,' replied John watching the tepid water turn to a boil.

'No it's not!' retorted Sherlock, 'it's a perfectly normal thing. Why are you acting all shy and masculine all of a sudden?'

John put his hands on his hips in that prissy and authoritative way he often adopted, 'I'm not acting shy and masculine. I'm just saying that it's impractical. Have you thought about the logisti- look who I'm talking to, of course you have. No, Sherlock. Just no. It's not worth the effort.' He then turned his attention to making his tea.

Sherlock pouted. 'Fine,' he said, 'your loss.'

'It's no loss to me, mate. I'm fine with doing it the traditional way,' replied John, pouring milk into his cup.

'We can make this way a tradi-'

'No, Sherlock. I'm walking away from you now,' said John as he turned to exit the kitchen with his freshly-made cup of tea.

'Okay,' said Sherlock, pouting again.

He picked up the milk carton John had left on the bench and took a swig from it before returning it to the fridge. He then walked over to where his roommate was seated next to the fire. 'I don't ask much of you, you know,' he said plaintively.

'Oh shit,' John swore. 'Look what you made me do with your ill-timed joke. Now I've got tea on my trousers.'

John put his cup on the coffee table and stood up, swatting at his dampened crotch in a feeble attempt to make the liquid raise from the fibres of his jeans.

Sherlock smirked. 'Has it soaked through to your skin?' he asked.

John glared at Sherlock. 'Stop it,' he said.

'I was merely asking a question,' replied Sherlock.

John undid the button of his jeans and widened the seam a little. 'I know where you're going with this,' he said, 'and you need to stop.'

Sherlock raised his gaze from John's crotch to his face and smiled a bit. 'Don't tease me like that,' he said, 'it's not fair.'

'It's not a tease if you know it's not going anywhere,' replied John, walking past Sherlock towards his bedroom.

Sherlock followed him. 'Come on, John. What've you got to lose?'

John entered his room and shut the door behind him. 'Oh I dunno, Sherlock, my dignity maybe?' he shouted through the door.

Sherlock leaned on the door with his forearm 'you can only lose your dignity if the act you subject yourself to is worth losing it over.'

John scoffed audibly.

'This isn't one of those acts,' finished Sherlock.

'It isn't?' John mumbled.

'There is nothing remotely humiliating or uncomfortable about it, John. Just trust me,' reassured Sherlock.

The handle on the door turned a smidge, Sherlock pushed with his arm and the door opened a crack, he took this as an invitation. Upon opening the door, the consulting detective was met with the bare back of Dr. John Watson, an all too familiar sight.

John looked over his shoulder towards Sherlock, 'I hate you,' he said throwing his tea-splattered shirt on the bed.

Sherlock walked towards John putting his arms around the waist of the half-naked man in front of him. He rested his chin on John's bare shoulder, 'I'm okay with that,' he murmured, lightly touching his lips to the blogger's neck.

John stretched out his neck and let out a satisfied 'mmm'.

'Looking forward to this now are we?' asked Sherlock.

'No,' said John, leaning into Sherlock's lips.

Sherlock smiled into John's neck, chuckling slightly. 'I'll get everything ready,' he said, and with a kiss to John's forehead, he left the room.

'Ready, John!' echoed Sherlock's voice.

John sighed, 'coming!' he said begrudgingly.

John just caught Sherlock sniggering as he opened the door to the bathroom. 'For a genius, you can be really immature,' said John as he looked around the room. 'Nice,' he commented.

'Your sarcasm and flippancy is noted. Now come here.' Sherlock waved John towards him.

John groaned, 'why are you making me do this?'

'You're the one that wanted normalcy.'

'This isn't normal, Sherlock.'

'It is for normal people.'

'No it's not.'

'Shut up and get in here, Watson,' demanded Sherlock, 'the water's fine.'

John reluctantly disrobed and stepped into a world of bubbles, scented candles and various bath toys.

Sherlock's face lit up as John lowered himself into the bath, 'excellent!' he exclaimed.

'That look on your face almost makes having your enormous feet next to my head worth it, dear,' remarked John trying not to catch Sherlock's smile.

'So having a luxurious, fluffy bubble bath complete with rubber duck and toy pirate ship isn't as bad as you thought it would be?' asked Sherlock.

'No, I suppose not,' replied John poking the toy pirate ship around the bath.

'Good. I told you,' said Sherlock, still smiling.

'Yes you did,' said John, abandoning the pirate ship and taking Sherlock's hand.

Sherlock gave John a loving look, 'if it wasn't for me, we wouldn't do anything fun,' he said.

'That's not quite true,' countered John. 'Remember last Tuesday?' he said raising his eyebrow.

Sherlock chuckled knowingly. Giving John a smouldering look he said, 'how could I forget?'

'Hm,' pondered John.

'What?' asked Sherlock, playing with John's fingers.

'Do you wanna, you know, maybe do that in here?' said John, looking Sherlock up and down.

Sherlock stared at the back wall, that far-off look he favoured when deducing, 'yes,' he decided, 'yes I do.'

John tightened his grip on Sherlock's hand and pulled him closer, causing the pirate ship to poke Sherlock in the stomach.

'Ow, ow, ow. John, ow,' yelped Sherlock.

John removed the pirate ship from between their torsos and threw it across the room. 'Shut up, Sherlock,' he said, and with that, he took Sherlock's face in both his hands, looked him directly in his beautiful steel-coloured eyes and kissed him.