I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this. I only put them in situations for your twisted pleasure. Remember to drop a comment or suggestion! ;).
Chapter 1: The First Move
"So, is this yer first time round 'ere?" The man spoke with a heavy accent, not quite enunciating every letter. It put Sherlock on edge- John could tell.
"Erm, yes. Yes it is." John replied.
"I'm sorry boys, but i's gonna have to be two singles I'm 'fraid. A couple jus' took our last double. "
"Oh, no... he's... we're... I'm... not gay." said John hastily. Sherlock stood in silence, and the man curled his lip as if to say 'yeah right'. John couldn't get his head around why this happened everywhere. It was perfectly normal for two men to stay in a hotel, or to get a taxi together. It didn't mean they were gay. Sherlock, on the other hand, didn't understand why it bothered John so much. Everyone said it, and he thought it was better to stay straight-faced and bear it than tell every living soul on the planet that he wasn't gay. What did it matter what other people thought anyway?
"Thankyou." said Sherlock, taking the room key in one sweep, straightening his turned-up collar and moving swiftly outside.
It was windy, and Sherlock's hair was blowing wildly. John's, however, was almost perfectly still. After all, he did use product on it. As far as Sherlock was concerned, this made him gay. He's not gay.
"This way." said Sherlock. "The quicker we get this done the quicker we can focus on Moriarty."
John didn't like all this Moriarty business. It kept Sherlock busy, but at what cost? He was agitated, and mostly silent.
After a half hour trek across a muddy field and back, Sherlock had, no surprises, solved the case. The inhabitants of the small village were amazed, but for John this was something he'd seen many, many times before.
On their way back to the pub where they were staying, John asked, "Why is all this Moriarty business getting you so worked up lately? You've been so quiet, and you're never normally this quiet. " John's mind was immediately cast back to him walking into the flat and seeing Sherlock fire a gun into the wall and shout "Bored!"
"I'm thinking." Sherlock replied, bluntly, and continued to walk at a fast pace. He was obviously in a hurry to get back to the room and sit in silence again.
"Hey, wait!" Sherlock didn't stop or slow down.
When they finally arrived back at the room, they found it to be quite comfortable. The ceiling was low, and two charts were positioned around a small fireplace. Behind them, two single beds with matching deep red and green tartan bedding sat invitingly. A small bathroom was to the right, and a small kitchen area to the left.
"Shall I put the kettle on?" asked John, trying to be friendly. Sherlock day in silence with his hands in that same position, his expression one of deep thought.
"Oh yes please go on then why not." He suddenly replied, taking John by surprise.
"Okay," John muttered to himself while making two cups of coffee, one with sugar, one without.
They were sat drinking them in silence twenty minutes later when John once again decided to try and start a conversation.
"So, that was an interesting case. Imagine using a car door handle as a murder weapon and then glueing it back on?" Sherlock nodded. "Sherlock, I don't like all this silence. If I wanted to be this lonely, I'd move out."
"Don't do that." said Sherlock hurriedly. And a few moments later, "Perhaps the silence is better sometimes?" He put down his mug and moved over towards John's chair. He's taken off his coat and was wearing black trousers pants, a white shirt with the first three buttons undone, and a black suit jacket. His hair was windswept and his face tired.
'Tired,' thought John. 'But still handsome.' He tried to block the thoughts from his mind but they just kept coming. Sherlock taking off his shirt, Sherlock taking off his pants, Sherlock, Sherlock, Sherlock, with less and less clothes each time. With him standing over him like that... it was hard not to. John looked up into Sherlock's eyes, and it was clear that they both wanted the same thing. Sherlock grabbed the front of John's t-shirt and pushed him against the wall. At first John was surprised, but after that, as he was stood there with his handsome 'platonic friend' towering over him, it was becoming harder and harder to just see him as a 'platonic friend'. John looked up at Sherlock, and Sherlock meant down to meet John's lips. That 'platonic friend' thing was way out of the window now. As they kissed, John managed to remove Sherlock's jacket and begin to unbutton what was still fastened on his shirt. Sherlock was better- he had already taken off John's t-shirt and jacket, and was beginning on his belt.
In a matter of minutes they found themselves completely undressed and close together on one single bed. John rested his head against Sherlock's chest, while Sherlock ran his hand through John's hair with his arm around his shoulder.
"I'm still not gay." John said, right before falling asleep in Sherlock's arms.
"If you say so," chuckled Sherlock. He got out his phone and started a text message:
Molly
John is gay.
SH.
And then fell asleep.