Authors note: Hello there everyone, Thanks so much all of you for reading my stuff! Came up with this idea whilst severely sleep deprived, so I hope you like it! Please, please, please review! It makes my heart very happy:)
John was already surprised when Mariah, one of the nurses at the surgery, came up to him with a clipboard and asked him to run a charity booth for the hospital. Then she had to go and say it was a kissing booth. There was no way in hell John was going to sit in a booth and give people kisses for money.
"Aww, Please John! You're the only man in this hospital who doesn't have nasty teeth and isn't really old." Mariah pleaded, and John gave her skeptical look.
"And the only one who's good-looking as well." John smiled.
"Why don't you do it Mariah? You're pretty enough." Mariah blushed at John's compliment.
"Well it's a fund-raiser for children's health, so most of the people there will be women, so it's gotta be a guy. Please John! Will you do it?" John bit his lip and Mariah pouted and gave him puppy dog eyes. John's willpower crumbled and he agreed to do it. Mariah cheered and wrote his name down on her clipboard. She skipped off and John sighed heavily, what had he gotten himself into?
A few hours later John arrived home at Baker Street carrying the milk Sherlock had requested.
"I bought the milk you wanted!" John called up the stairs; Sherlock smiled slightly but didn't move from his laying position on the couch. John climbed the stairs with ease, so it hadn't been a very hard day at work. He went into the kitchen and was about to put the milk in the fridge when he was stopped dead by a bowl of what looked like punch. But John knew better, whatever the mysterious red substance was there was a zero percent chance it was something as normal as punch. John gently pushed it to the side and put the milk in the fridge. He closed the door and turned to Sherlock.
"What was that in the fridge?" He asked.
"Blood." Was Sherlock's response and John shuddered slightly at the thought of there being a bowl of blood in the fridge. He shrugged it off though and began to make himself some tea.
"Would you like some tea?" He asked Sherlock and poured the water into the kettle. Sherlock nodded and John got out a second mug.
"Lestrade called." Sherlock said as he sat up.
"What did he want?"
"He wanted me to come in on Thursday to answer some questions. They've already solved the crime but Lestrade was confused about how some things happened." Sherlock shrugged as though it was all very boring and John paused and looked up in thought.
"Did you want me to come?" He asked after a moment.
"Of course." Sherlock wrinkled his forehead; he always wanted John to come.
"I was worried you'd say that." Sherlock frowned even more.
"I can't come, I've got a charity…thing. Sorry." John gave Sherlock an apologetic smile and Sherlock grunted unhappily. It wouldn't be as fun if John didn't come.
"What charity thing?" Sherlock asked, still not pleased at the prospect of helping Lestrade on some boring case without John.
"Oh, just a thing, for kids you know." Sherlock raised his eyebrows in curiosity, John was hiding something.
"What kind of thing?" Sherlock asked.
"Just a thing alright." John was trying to brush it off but Sherlock's interest was piqued. What was John hiding? Sherlock stood up and planted himself in front of John so he couldn't leave the kitchen, the two steaming mugs of tea in his hands. John sighed and set them down. Sherlock wasn't about to give up any time soon though so he stood there, staring fiercely into John's eyes. John stared right back with his hands on his hips for a minute or so before finally losing patience.
"It's a kissing booth." John stated grumpily. "Happy?" Sherlock didn't say anything but let John pass with the tea. When John could no longer see his face, Sherlock grinned. Lestrade would have to wait because Sherlock was going to be busy Thursday, he had plans.
Thursday finally came around and John was not pleased about it, he still couldn't believe he'd been talked into sitting in a booth and letting people he didn't even know kiss him. John let out a long sigh as he pulled his chair up to the counter of the kissing booth. They charged three pounds for a kiss on the lips and two pounds for a kiss on the cheek. People could donate more if they wanted, but the booth was mostly for kicks and giggles. John sat down in his chair and did his best to look like he was happy to be there as people began to arrive.
Sherlock spotted John reflected in the glass of a painting and smiled, everything was falling into place. Sherlock made his way to the bathroom and pulled his first disguise out of a bag. It was for an old woman; old women were always easy to disguise oneself as so Sherlock had decided to start with that as a warm-up. Sherlock was glad the restroom was a single stall, general use restroom. It would have been difficult to explain walking into the men's room as himself and emerging as an old woman. Sherlock examined himself in the mirror once more and exited the bathroom.
John's first customer had been Mariah; no doubt she had thought it had been a reward for doing the booth. If only she knew the truth, the truth that John's heart belonged to someone else, someone tall and dark-haired, with silvery gray eyes and… John's train of thought was interrupted by an old woman holding up the required amount of money for a kiss on the cheek. John tried not to grimace as she leaned forward expectantly; he gave the older woman a quick peck on the cheek and smiled tightly. She smiled back and disappeared into the rapidly growing crowd. John didn't mind older folks; he just didn't fancy the idea of kissing them, especially when they smelled as strongly of mothballs as the woman John had just kissed.
Old-lady Sherlock chuckled at his new reflection, to the untrained eye he looked like a young woman, wearing a grey business suit and far too much lipstick. He checked to make sure all the components of the disguise were in place, heels, wig, make-up, and all the necessities to give him a womanly physique were firmly placed so Sherlock exited the restroom.
John sighed once again as the last few people began to arrive, Mariah had been right, almost all of them were women. Most ignored John but one fairly attractive woman approached the booth. She was exceedingly tall and her sleek black heels weren't making her any shorter. She placed three pounds in the money-box and leant forward quite bit so John could kiss her. John did and she blushed bright red, John just smiled and she walked away. John frowned as she did, wiping the lipstick from his lips he could have sworn he smelled the faintest hint of mothballs mixed in with her perfume.
Sherlock didn't like the dress, it was far to revealing, but it was necessary. Sherlock wasn't just doing this for his own gain, sure he got to kiss John, but this was also an opportunity to see what kind of woman John preferred. And next on the list was the kind who wore low cut dresses and, rather unfortunately, waxed their legs.
John frowned as the next customer walked up to the booth, John wasn't one to judge but she looked… like trouble. He straightened up as she sauntered up to the booth. She placed three dollars in the box and closed her eyes. John leaned forward to plant one on her as quick as possible, but she grabbed him by the back of his neck and forced him into a long passionate kiss. Well passionate on her side at least, she pulled back and humphed at John's startled and unhappy expression. She tossed her bleach blonde hair snootily and marched off, leaving behind the familiar scent of perfume and mothballs.
Since the last approach hadn't been successful Sherlock was going for the homely look. John might be looking for something more permanent, someone to settle down with, though Sherlock hoped not. He adjusted the brunette wig atop his messy black curls and eyed the black flowered dress he was wearing before heading out to the kissing booth.
John spotted his next client walking towards him; she looked like a nice woman. Someone John might have dated before he met a certain consulting detective who John was trying very hard not to think about. She placed two pounds in the money box and extended her cheek timidly. John gave it a light kiss and smiled at her. She giggled and blushed before putting another three pounds in the box. John gave her a kiss which lingered slightly longer than he would have liked and smiled at her once again. She walked away giggling and John smelled mothballs.
Sherlock grimaced at his reflection. Why wasn't anything working? John should have enjoyed at least one of those kisses (although preferably not the first one). Sherlock frowned once again before heading out for another kiss.
John nearly fell out of his chair when the next client approached. He, yes he, was wearing skin-tight neon jeans, a sleeveless t-shirt, and a neon scarf to match his bright green pants. The man caught sight of John and walked up to the booth; he adjusted his bangs and placed three pounds in the money box. John shook his head in protest but the man just pointed to the sign above John's head. It listed the prices for the kisses.
"It doesn't gender specify." The man said in a voice with a slight lisp. John swallowed hard and smiled as best he could. The man leaned forward and John kissed him on the lips, oddly enough it wasn't as bad as some of the others. The man slipped John a piece of paper, no doubt with his phone number on it, and waltzed away with a wink. John couldn't help but notice the slight smell of mothballs as he did.
Sherlock dropped his head into his hands and scowled at the neon scarf draped around his neck. He still couldn't believe that the way he looked now was the most appealing to John out of all the previous looks Sherlock had presented him with. He tore off the wig and reached into the bag containing all his disguises, it was time to go to war.
John had thought the last person had been unusual, until the next one came strolling up. He wore tight leather everything, dark pilot shades, and chewed pensively on a toothpick. He came up to the booth and dropped ten pounds into the box.
"No, no it's only two." John said and the man peered over his shades at the sign.
"Or three." John added with a slight blush. The man added three more pounds and grabbed John by the sides of his face. With surprising strength he hoisted John to his feet and kissed him on the lips like John had never been kissed before. It was rough and the man forced his tongue into John's mouth and bit at John's lower lip. He kissed John for a full minute before finally breaking away and staring into John's eyes as though he were searching for his soul. John tried not to meet the eyes but the man still had a firm grip on John so he didn't have a choice. If the man hadn't been holding John so firmly John probably would've jumped five feet into the air because when John caught a glimpse of those eyes through the sunglasses he didn't see some stranger's eyes. He saw the silvery gray eyes of someone who definitely couldn't be standing there. Sherlock's eyes. The man released John suddenly and practically ran away. John sat down and tried to convince himself he hadn't just seen what he had just seen. But John's stomach refused to stop doing somersaults and his heart refused to slow its rapid beating. He took a couple of deep breaths, trying to ignore the scent of mothballs.
Sherlock was getting closer to figuring out who John wanted and he knew it. But it wasn't at all who Sherlock had thought it would be and this new knowledge made Sherlock's stomach queasy with hope. Sherlock had taken John's pulse from his temple and it had been very rapid, and John's pupils had been blown wide. Sherlock wasn't sure why John's pulse had sped to a near breakneck pace when he looked John in the eye, but Sherlock knew that it was only the beginning for John.
A nurse, a male doctor, a bearded biker guy who was clearly drunk, a not-quite-so bearded biker lady (also drunk), a young bubble-gum chewing teen girl, and a very aggressive woman John recommended be tested for rabies all approached the booth and dropped a couple of pounds into the box. After all of that John allowed his head to fall to the table with a loud thunk.
"Rough night?" Came a familiar voice from in front of John. John looked up into the face of one Detective Inspector Lestrade.
"Greg?" John asked. Greg smiled and gave John a pat on the shoulder. "I am so glad to see you, I had no idea running a kissing booth would be so stressful. I mean…" John trailed off and hung his head in exhaustion.
"Yeah, sorry mate. I'm not here to stay." John whimpered and pouted up at Greg. Then Greg pulled out his wallet and removed three pounds.
"No… no, no, no, please don't." John pleaded, but Greg just grimaced apologetically and dropped the money into the box. John sighed and Greg leaned forward, John gave him a light kiss. Greg blushed a deep red, cleared his throat, wished John a good night and walked off. John chuckled and shook his head, that had been the best kiss he'd gotten all night.
A while passed and only a few others came up to the booth. John was incredibly tired and was about ready to get up and leave when something caught John's eye. It was a billowing black coat, and wearing it was one Sherlock Holmes. John smiled at him wearily; he was really very glad to see him but was just too tired to show it. Whatever craziness Sherlock could dish out would seem normal after the events of that night. Sherlock smiled at John and oddly enough he looked somewhat tired himself.
"Oof, what a night." John said, massaging his neck. Sherlock hummed in response and looked pensively at the money box.
"Looks like you had quite a few customers." Sherlock observed. John nodded and started to get up when Sherlock reached into his pocket and pulled out three pounds. John just stood there and stared disbelievingly. Sherlock looked completely serious, but John couldn't be sure. He couldn't be sure if Sherlock felt the same hope as John did. Couldn't be sure if Sherlock cared like John did. Sherlock dropped the money into the box and gave John a look that he often gave John when they were in a bind. It was a look that meant trust me and John did. So he leaned forward and kissed Sherlock on the lips. It was by far the best kiss John had experienced that night, perhaps the best kiss he'd ever experienced. When the kiss stopped Sherlock looked into John's eyes and smiled broadly.
"So that was your favorite?" Sherlock asked after a moment's pause.
"Favorite what?" John said with a frown.
"Favorite kiss." Sherlock leaned away and John tried to hide his disappointment.
"Well… this one." John smiled and blushed but Sherlock just dropped three extra pounds into the box and kissed John again. They kissed longer that time and it was wonderful.
"Good, it was my favorite too." Sherlock said, his warm breath breezing over John's face. John thought about that for a second and stood straight up. His brain working full speed, trying to comprehend what Sherlock had just said.
"Wait a minute… so that means… you bastard!" John was yelling at Sherlock but there was a smile on his face, he didn't appreciate being tricked but the thought that all those people had been Sherlock was just too funny.
"You dressed up like a woman." John said, still trying to sound angry but rather unsuccessfully. Sherlock nodded and they John tried to suppress a giggle.
"And that guy with the scarf." John gave up on being upset and just laughed. Sherlock scowled at him.
"And the…" John was laughing so hard he couldn't breathe and Sherlock was smiling too. After John caught his breath Sherlock extended his hand to John.
"Dinner?" He asked. John nodded and walked around the booth. He smiled at Sherlock and gave him an experimental kiss. It was warm and John could smell everything about Sherlock, gunpowder, nicotine, various chemicals, perfume, and mothballs.
The next day Mariah walked over to the cashbox for the kissing booth and was stopped dead by the money overflowing from it. She picked up the note that was sitting next to it and it read
I wasn't sure how much it would cost to borrow John for an evening (As it was not featured on the sign) so I left however much I felt was adequate. I hope it will suffice, I may be holding onto John for quite some time so I would appreciate it if his hours were lessened.
SH
Mariah stared at the note, then at the cash-box, then back at the note. She sat down, still fairly confused and began to count all the money.
Meanwhile, back at Baker Street John woke up to find his head placed on Sherlock's bare chest. The rise and fall of Sherlock's breathing caused John's head to move up and down. John smiled up at Sherlock and Sherlock smiled back.
"Good morning." Sherlock said and John could feel the rumble in his chest when he spoke. John just smiled wider in response. He ran the events of the night before through his mind and paused at one part.
"How did you disguise yourself as Greg?" Sherlock frowned in thought, not recalling assigning a name to any of his disguises.
"Sorry, who?" Sherlock asked.
"Lestrade." John rotated so he was flat on his back.
"How on earth did you disguise yourself as him so realistically?" John said with a chuckle.
"John, I didn't disguise myself as Lestrade." Sherlock and John both looked at each other in confusion.
Back at Scotland Yard Lestrade was smiling at the photo he had sneakily taken whilst at a kissing booth the night before. He chuckled and began to whistle, that night would be a night to remember.