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This ficlet was inspired by this adorable piece of art done by anotherwellkeptsecret Sherlock lay on the floor in the living room of the flat, his head resting on the Union Jack pillow. He was bored, well not just bored. He was also missing John, but he was trying not to think about that.John had gone to lunch with a newly sober Harry. This wor- annoyed Sherlock, as John always came home upset after meeting his sister. So far John had been gone three hours, thirteen minutes and 45, 46, 47 seconds.Normally, when John left Sherlock would use the silence to explore his mind palace. Sometimes he’d go so deep he’d forget John had even left. However, all of that had changed since they had taken their relationship one step further. Now, Sherlock was acutely aware of John presence, and even more acutely aware of his absence.Sighing, Sherlock steepled his hands below his chin and tried to go through the information on a case he was working on. It worked. For about five minutes. He kept getting distracted by thoughts of John, and then further distracted by missing John. John’s eyes, John’s hands, John’s lips. The things John’s hands and lips had done to him last night…..He felt his cheeks heat as those thoughts spilled in vivid colour over the walls of his mind palace.They had gotten home fairly late after investigating a case. As soon as the flat door had closed behind them, John had pushed Sherlock up against the nearest wall, pinned his wrists next to his head, and kissed him senseless. Sherlock felt heat pooling his belly as he remembered the way John ground his hips against Sherlock’s, all the while whispering in Sherlock’s ear all the filthy things he was going to do to him.And Sherlock had loved it.He had loved the way John’s hands felt wrapped around his wrists, so firm and secure, how unafraid John was to voice his desires, which was something Sherlock still struggled with. It was odd, he reflected, how one usually so verbose could be rendered speechless due to physical contact alone.That was it though, wasn’t it? It wasn’t just physical contact with John, it was so much more. It was John who rendered him speechless, not just physical contact with him, but John as a whole caring, ugly jumper wearing package, that made Sherlock quake. Unbeknownst to Sherlock, he had done what he had been aiming for, although in a round-about way. He had immersed himself deep enough into his mind palace that he hadn’t noticed the time passing. He gone so deep that he hadn’t heard John’s footsteps coming up the stairs, or seen John’s saddened expression at another botched meeting with his sister, change into a warm smile when he saw Sherlock lying on the floor.Such was the case that Sherlock jumped slightly when he felt warm hands carding through his hair. It only took him a moment to catalogue the shape of the hands and the placement of the calluses to place the owner. He opened his eyes and saw John’s upside down, smiling face.“Hello love,” John said, placing a kiss to Sherlock’s forehead, “how’s the case going?”Sherlock smiled softly in response, “It hasn’t gone anywhere, actually.”“Oh, why is that?” John said, continuing to massage Sherlock’s scalp gently.“I was…distracted.” Sherlock replies, feeling his cheeks warm.“Is that so?” John murmured, pressing another kiss to Sherlock’s hairline.Sherlock simply hummed in response, letting his eyes fall shut as John’s hands and hair and the fact that John was simply there comforted him in a way he couldn’t explain.