A/N: Ok so this my first attempt at Johnlock…. It may suck. But if you like it? Please review and tell me so I can add to it, maybe make a story out of it. I'm sorry if they act a little OC but….. This is how I see them…. And this is how I see Sherlock's mind. Except that I'm not smart, so I can't really make him sound as smart as he usually is. John's mind…. I know it's OC but I see him like that, sorry!

Sherlock

I was trying to distract myself from John's sleeping form on the couch.

I tried playing my violin but he woke up enough to say, "It's two in the morning! You set my bed on fire three hours ago! Be quiet so I can get some sleep!"

I tried to watch telly. I must have been shouting louder than I realized because John sat up and scolded me, yet again. I shocked myself by muttering, "Sorry John."

I tried to make color patterns on the rubix cube. But the death glare he shot me told me it was also too noisy for him.

So eventually I just stared at him from my chair. Trying to notice every single detail possible.

Counting his breaths, his smile lines. Anything and everything I could see.

I even got up and memorized his smell a bit better.

I was surprised I didn't get bored after the first ten minutes.

But there was just so much to learn about John!

His hair stuck up all over his head in a little mess of sandy of cuteness.

His hands twitched as if he was trying to hold onto something.

He smiled in his sleep, a funny little half smile than was simply too adorable to process fully.

He wore a grey t-shirt, and blue jeans. No socks.

It was a rather good look.

The hem of his shirt had worked its way up just past his navel and his jeans were slung lower on his waist than usual.

I couldn't stop obsessing over the exposed skin in that space.

How would it feel? Would he wake up if I touched him?

I realized my hand was reaching out, almost touching him.

I leapt up and hurried to find a blanket to cover that delightful skin up with.

Once I found one I stalked back to the couch. I was about to cover that troublesome skin when John said something.

"Sher…. Ock."

I was frozen in shock.

John was sleep talking.

John was sleep talking my name.

I dropped the blanket and reached out without hesitation.

My fingers traced the waistline of his jeans and I shivered.

His skin was so soft. So mind numbingly soft.

He took a deep breath and worried about how this would end.

How would he respond if he woke up?

My fingers ghosted up to the hem of his shirt, which I pushed up without a thought.

I ached to touch him. And his damn clothing was blocking me.

I carefully moved his shirt up but paused when I uncovered his nipples.

They looked tasty.

I leaned toward him, my mind babbled as I moved.

I wasn't really thinking anymore. Just reacting.

Was this how John thought? If so, no wonder he liked it.

But no… John thought more than most people, just not as much as I did.

I noticed the slight flush on John's sweet face and accelerated breathing. That wasn't my doing was it?

I shivered hoping that I had been the one to illicit such a delightful reaction for John's body.

Just before my mouth could taste him he gasped and his eyes snapped open.

In the few seconds before he reacted I saw that this wasn't conscious John.

This was soldier-John. The one who had just woken up to see someone leaning over him in near darkness.

He wouldn't exactly react with a hug.

But I wasn't in a very defensible spot, nor would I hurt John.

Shit.

John

He's like a child!

First the basterd sets my bed on fire then he tried to keep me awake with his noisy nocturnal playing.

Even more so because when I yell at him or glare he pouts! His lower lip protrudes and he gets this kicked puppy look.

He even said sorry earlier, I'm not sure he realized that though.

He just couldn't leave me alone for an hour!

But when I finally did fall asleep he invaded my dreams too!

"John?"

I glanced over my shoulder to see Sherlock standing there with a familiar I-know-everything smirk on that cupids-bow mouth.

I turned to look up at the big idiot-genius. Why did he have to be so tall?!

"What is it Sherlock?" I asked tiredly, knowing he was about to test my patients.

He grinned down at me and the wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a weird too tight hug.

"I'm sorry John." I shivered, totally a dream.

"Oh really? About what?" I asked, too breathless.

I was disappointed in myself. This was Sherlock! Maybe my perfect imaginary version of Sherlock, but still Sherlock!

I was letting him manipulate me in my dreams as well as in the real world? No. No more!

The dream Sherlock licked my neck and my knees turned to jelly. Damn.

His hands slid over my sides and his mouth remained latched onto my neck.

He nipped the sensitive skin just behind my ear and I clutched at him.

"Basterd!" I muttered but gasped as he bit a little harder.

"I'm sorry…. For not doing this sooner." He rumbled in my ear.

Slowly a grin spread across my face. Maybe I could just… relax for a bit. Stop hating the sexy distant basterd enough to enjoy this.

But before anything could happen the dream vanished and I shivered at the feeling of finger tips on my skin.

Then the tickle of breath on my skin startled me.

I reacted.