John shook his head, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape in amazement. "You can't be serious."
"Of course I can! It's rubbish, why would I bother with it?" Sherlock tossed his hands in the air emphatically, wrinkling his brow in disdain.
"But it's Disney! Everybody watches Disney."
"Not me. Haven't got the time to waste on such trivial things."
"You haven't got a case on. Hell, Sherlock, we hardly have a wall anymore! You watch crap telly when you're bored, surely you can spare a night for something classic."
Sherlock sighed in resignation, rolling his silver eyes. "Fine. But I'm deleting it right after."
"I can't control what you do in your head afterwards. Just so long as you watch it."
John left after that to rent the movies. He stood in front of the rack for half an hour, deliberating which ones would be most interesting to the Consulting Detective. He scrapped all of the Princess ones, besides Mulan which really didn't count anyways. He swept his eyes over the Disney-Pixar films, but decided against them; not quite classic enough. He would sucker Sherlock into watching those another night.
The doctor finally walked out of the store with three movies in hand – Mulan, Pinocchio, and The Lion King. He would have liked to have taken more but he had only insisted that Sherlock spare one night on the movies.
Sherlock glanced up from where he was seated on the couch when John entered the flat. He spotted the movie cases and wrinkled his nose. "Cartoons, John?"
"You already agreed," John reminded him patiently. The man huffed and ducked his head so that dark curls fell over his eyes, pouting; but he said no more.
"I've got popcorn, too," John called from the kitchen. "And you're eating some. You aren't on a case so you can't use that as an excuse not to."He received a non-committal grunt in response and chose to interpret it as assent. He examined the microwave carefully to make sure nothing was growing on the sides then popped the package in and searched for a clean bowl.
With a massive bowl of popcorn balanced in one hand and the movies in the other he returned to the living room. "You ready?"
"If you still insist on subjecting me to this, yes."
"Oh, shut up. You might enjoy it." He walked over to their dusty DVD player and put Mulan on, then sat next to Sherlock with the bowl of popcorn between them.
"Well that was dull. How could they not have seen that she was a girl? They must have made ruddy soldiers."
John rolled his eyes with a grin and switched the movie out for Pinocchio.
"An accurate representation of most liars, though the end was sickeningly sentimental."
"So you liked it, then? For the most part?" John was answered with silence. He chuckled and put The Lion King in.
"Talking animals?"
"Just watch it."
"Scar reminds me a bit of Mycroft."
"Really?" They fell silent again.
"Or not. He wouldn't like doing so much legwork."Sherlock piped up a few scenes later, when Scar began gallivanting about with his hyenas.
John shook his head and laughed.
"And they're singing again."
"Shh…" John was fixated on the screen, caught in the pleasant warmth of childhood memories.
The sweet caress of twilight;there's magic everywhere. And with all this romantic atmosphere…Disaster's in the air…
The images on the screen and the words hanging in the air suddenly ceased to be solely a part of the past. Wasn't it rather dark in the flat? When had they moved the bowl of popcorn to the coffee table, and had they been sitting this close before?
"It was bearable up until this point. Now they're going on about love." Sherlock shifted his attention from the screen and onto John. He raised an eyebrow. "You are far more interesting."
"Me?" John didn't turn from the screen. He licked his lips. "What's so interesting about me?"
"Your first kiss."
"Wh-what?"
"It was to this song. Very cliché, John. 'Can you feel the love tonight?' Really?"
"Oh, shut up. What was yours to, then? A gunshot?" He felt his ears burn red and now he was deliberately fixated on the movie. He didn't know what had possessed him to ask.
"Nothing."
"Hm?"
"It was to nothing. Or rather, it hasn't happened. Waste of time."
I can see what's happening, and they don't have a clue…
"Everything's a waste of time to you." He smiled warmly and finally turned to glance at Sherlock. Suddenly he was locked in his gaze. The music swelled in his ears as the lights from the television flickered over the Detective's angular face, casting shadows over his sharp cheekbones and above his peaked lips. "You didn't ever think it could be… useful, then?"
Can you feel the love tonight?
"I never really considered that, no. Most forms of human contact are abhorrent to me." Sherlock's voice had dropped noticeably. "Although now that I consider it, I'm sure there are plenty of secrets taking refuge in peoples' lips." His eyes flickered down to John's mouth and then locked back onto his eyes.
You needn't look too far…
John tugged his own lips between his teeth, releasing them slowly. His eyes felt heavy. His ears were much too full of that blasted song; he had eaten too much popcorn and that was why his stomach was flopping about. And he was only leaning forward because it was three in the morning and Sherlock had spent all last night on his violin and he was tired. That was all.
As much as he struggled to John couldn't come up with an explanation for why Sherlock was moving in closer to him. He was never tired. He had just said that he abhorred human contact. So why was his face now level with John's, barely two inches away?
"John?"
Love is where they are…
"Yes, Sherlock?"
"Hakuna Matata."
"What?"
"No worries John. Or weren't you paying attention?" Sherlock didn't give him a chance to speak; he jerked forward and swallowed John's answer before it had breached his lips.
The detective pulled back a second later with his hand clasped over his mouth. John sat there in stunned silence, his mouth hanging open slightly as Sherlock dabbed at the spot of blood welling up on his lip. He swallowed hard, his cheeks growing hot.
"Well. I certainly never expected to have a kiss worse than my first, and she was wearing braces." He forced out a chuckle, then noticed the murderous look in Sherlock's eyes. "Hey," John said softly, reaching out impulsively to grab Sherlock's wrist and drag his hand away from his mouth.
"Hakuna matata, right?" He slid his hand swiftly up Sherlock's arm and to his shoulder, pulling him forward and pressing their lips together much more gently than the Detective had done. Sherlock's bottom lip was slick and metallic with blood, but underneath that it was soft and very yielding. He pulled back after a brief moment and smiled softly. "Any secrets there?"
The Detective looked dazed. He dragged his tongue over lips, licking away the blood. He felt at them then glanced back up at John. "Too soon to tell," he remarked shakily, then pulled John down and met his mouth with much more gentleness than before.
And if he falls in love tonight…
John broke away much later, just long enough to gasp out a question. "Are you deleting them, then?"
Sherlock chuckled deep in his throat, sliding the tip of his nose gently against John's. "All of the first two. Most of the third. I'm sure you can guess which part I'm keeping."
"Awfully sentimental of you," John teased, and Sherlock growled out a low "Shut up" before joining their lips once more.