Sherlock - The breath i need to live

This is just a little segment of a few things going through my brain. It includes Sherlock dressing in Johns clothes Enjoy Written from John's point of view.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________
I reached out in front, my body heavy from the heat, as I turned the nozzle to the shower, turning it the flow slowed before coming to a stop, apart from the few drops that continued to drip from the shower head.

I opened the door casually, a towel round my waste another in my hand which was casually drying my wet locks with the already dampening towel. I walked into the living room where the bathroom door lead to. I reached for my clothes that I had left on the sofa to find them missing. Who would want my clothes? I thought to myself. Interrupted from my thoughts i herd a thump for the kitchen. "Sherlock!" i called in an suspecting tone, i already new he would be doing some stupid experiment that only he could carry out.

Walking through into the kitchen i suddenly stopped confused by the sight in front of me. "John. What do you think?" It took me a while to take in what stood before me. What did stand before me? Sherlock? My clothes, my sweater? Sherlock dressed in my clothes? "err" I started before i was interrupted by the sudden thoughts running through my mind as Sherlock took a long stride towards me now standing only a few inches away. I swallowed sharply taking in the view. I could see Sherlock's belly button peaking out as my sweater wasn't quite long enough to cover the whole of his flatmates long skinny stomach, he also noticed the trousers that didn't even reach Sherlock's ankles. I chuckled a little stifling my laughter as I asked "What? What are you doing Sherlock?" Sherlock smiled before replying "Looking at it from your point of view. Like you told me to." I sighed before giving up and asking him the question i new he wanted, "and whats that like?" "Short, and boring" he replied quickly. Before i knew it his lips were on mine crushing into me. We're holding each other, my hands running through Sherlock's locks, his hands tracing over my body, up my shirt playing with my nipple in till it was hard, we're moving so fast and passionately like we need each other. He is my oxygen, the poison I need to breath, the breath I need to live, as I am Sherlock's.