Just a silly bit of Valentine's Day fluff. I'm not a huge fan on the holiday, but this little scene popped into my head and begged to be written. Dedicated to MrsNoggin, who has been helping me through some rough times recently. You've helped me more than you can ever imagine.
"Why do you insist on dragging me out- away from my experiments, mind you- on this insignificant commercial holiday?"
"It's not insignificant for me. And since you seem to ensure that I can find a date, you are here with me." John led Sherlock into the restaurant, wondering what had possessed him to bring him along. He hadn't wanted to spend Valentine's Day alone, but that was definitely preferable to dealing with all six feet of whining detective for several hours.
"Look, can we just try to have a nice, normal night?" John pleaded.
"Normal?" Sherlock arched one eyebrow.
"Normal for us?" he amended.
"I will do my best."
John gave his name to the host and they were led to a small table toward the back of the restaurant. It was dimly lit, a candle on the table shedding enough light for the two men to see each other. John looked around at the other diners, noticing all of the couples out for a romantic night. He was surprised to realize that he didn't really miss dating. Yes, he still yearned for some kind of physical relationship, but overall he was content with his life with Sherlock.
Their waiter was quick to recommend the oysters, with a wink and a whisper of "very romantic." John opened his mouth to explain that they weren't on a date, but decided that it didn't matter whether this stranger thought they together or not. Sherlock ordered the waiter's recommendation, while John decided on pasta.
They ate in a comfortable silence, John surprised to watch Sherlock eat without complaining. He filed the fact in the back of his mind; perhaps he would try it next time Sherlock refused to eat. Their water returned with an expensive-looking bottle of wine.
"We didn't order…."
"This was sent to you, compliments of a friend," he explained.
"Mycroft," Sherlock spat, looking disgusted. John shrugged; he wasn't about to let it go to waste. He finished one glass before Sherlock relented, enjoying the vintage.
"This was nice of your brother," John observed.
"Nice has nothing to do with it. He's toying with us."
"What do you mean?"
Sherlock turned his head, refusing to look at John. "He has been implying for months that we are a couple," he said quietly.
John's heart dropped. The feeling surprised him, and it made him realize something that he had never really actively considered before. He only took a beat before replying, "Does that bother you?"
"That man is about to propose," he changed the subject suddenly, leaving John to wonder what exactly was bothering Sherlock. They finished their meal, John promising Sherlock that they would stop on the way home and pick up some ice cream for dessert.
John climbed up the steps and put the ice cream in the freezer for later. He expected to turn on the telly and watch one of the stereotypical Valentine's Day movies, however when he turned around, he found Sherlock much closer than he had anticipated. The detective stepped into his personal space, raising one hand to cup his face. John leaned into the tough, forgetting for a moment that it was Sherlock who ran a thumb across his lower lip. His eyes opened and sought Sherlock's own gaze, finding a depth of emotion he would have once thought impossible for the younger man. John nodded consent, and Sherlock's lips found his own. The kiss was quick and chaste, asking silently Is this okay? They pulled apart, leaning their foreheads against each other. Sherlock's eyes took in John's face carefully, uncertainty coloring his features.
"Did I do it wrong?"
"No, not at all," John answered, breathless. He suddenly surged forward, recapturing Sherlock's lips, who made a noise of surprise before responding enthusiastically. John pressed him against the wall, sweeping his tongue along Sherlock's bottom lip. He opened his mouth, allowing John to explore, moaning slightly as their tongues wrapped around each other.
"Fuck," John swore, Sherlock's hands running down the muscles of his back. Sherlock twisted expertly, trading places with John. His lips drifted, trailing kisses along the stubble of John's jaw, ending with the sensitive skin under his ear.
Sherlock traced the shell of John's ear with his tongue before murmuring, "Maybe it's not such a bad holiday after all." He dew John's earlobe into his mouth, making John gasp.
"Care to take this somewhere more comfortable?" John suggested once he had control of his voice. This made Sherlock back up slightly, apprehension etched on his face. "Not to do…" John trailed off, "Just somewhere where we're not standing up."
"Oh," Sherlock looked relieved, though John knew better than to let on that the emotion was so apparent, "Then by all means, let's go."
They made their way to Sherlock's bed, slowly exploring each other. John felt giddy, the rush of making the genius gasp and writhe simply with kisses was intoxicating. He wondered how it would feel when they went further. Sherlock was incredibly responsive, and John smiled to think of the ways he could make him lose control.
"Sherlock?" he whispered as he felt sleep begin to overtake him.
"Hmm?"
"Thanks."
"For what?"
"For humoring me"
"Well, it seems it worked out. Just don't expect me to eat every time," Sherlock wrapped himself around John, resting his head on John's chest.
John laughed, and tangled their legs together before pressing a kiss to Sherlock's temple. "Goodnight, love."
As they fell asleep, John smiled to himself. It seemed like this was the best Valentine's Day yet.