A/N: Mrs. Hudson ships them harder than we do, which is how this story came to be. I've been working on it for months and just finally finished it. Enjoy!
The first time their relationship breached more than friendship was after they had a few drinks with Lestrade to celebrate solving a particularly grueling case. Sherlock usually turned down Lestrade's offer to go to the pub for a pint but this time John had convinced him to come along.
It didn't take long before the three of them were drunk, and once this happened Sherlock kept touching John's arm when he said something funny. Only Lestrade seemed to notice it, but he didn't say anything. When Lestrade went to the loo John turned to Sherlock and began to ask him if they should leave soon. Sherlock interrupted him by leaning in and kissing him. It was a quick kiss, and before John could react Sherlock had pulled away and went to get another round of drinks.
John kept looking at Sherlock who was acting as if nothing had happened. While Sherlock was telling Lestrade about his most recent experiment John slipped his hand under the table and rested it on Sherlock's knee. He slowly inched his hand further up Sherlock's leg until he was grasping at his inner thigh. When he gave a gentle squeeze Sherlock acted as if he hadn't noticed..
"Fancy another round?" Lestrade asked. Both John and Sherlock agreed and Lestrade went to get it. Once he was out of sight Sherlock turned to look at John.
"What are you doing?" He asked, glancing down at John's hand.
"Do you want me to stop?" John asked. When Sherlock gave no reply John grinned and squeezed again.
A few hours later Lestrade put Sherlock and John in a cab home. John slumped against Sherlock and closed his eyes. Both men were silent for the duration of the cab ride.
"We should order takeaway, Chinese sounds good," Sherlock said a bit over enthusiastically as they pulled up in front of their flat. John paid the driver and then went to the door, which Sherlock was attempting to unlock with very little success.
"Lemme do it, you're drunk," John said, slurring his words as he pushed Sherlock aside. After a few minutes of fumbling and giggling they finally did manage to unlock the door. They shed their jackets once they were in the flat. Sherlock sat in his armchair while John went to the kitchen in search of more drinks; he came back a short time later with a bottle of wine and two glasses.
They finished the first bottle of wine within half an hour. John produced a second bottle from the kitchen, which they drank directly from, passing it back and forth as they sat on the floor. They had slid from their armchairs at some point, and neither of them felt like getting up. Sherlock lay back on the floor, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. John looked down at him, and then he climbed on top of Sherlock and leaned down to kiss him. Sherlock eagerly returned the kiss, one hand on John's hip and the other one he put on the back of John's neck.
John had never imagined Sherlock as anything more than a friend before that night, and he was surprised at how much he wanted Sherlock in the moment. He felt passion and desire building up inside him, threatening to overtake him. Sherlock began to slow the kiss down until eventually John lay down next to him and looked up at the ceiling.
That was how Mrs. Hudson found them the next morning. She set out their morning tea and chuckled to herself at the two men sleeping on the floor.
John groaned when he woke up, he brought his hands up to his eyes to shield them from the sunlight pouring through the windows. His head was pounding and his entire body was sore from sleeping on the floor. Sherlock sat up and looked around the room.
"I'm too old for this," John said, his hands still covering his face. Sherlock began laughing and soon John was laughing too.
John went to shower, hoping the warm water would soothe his aching head. He sat under the water for longer than usual and when he came out of the bathroom wearing only a towel Sherlock was still lying on the floor and snoring softly. John chuckled and then went to get dressed. When he came back downstairs Sherlock was in the shower. John settled into his arms chair and drank some tea, thinking over everything that had happened last night. He wondered if Sherlock was going to pretend that nothing happened, or if he didn't remember anything happening.
Sherlock took a much shorter shower than John, and soon he was sitting in his armchair across from John, drinking tea and only wearing a towel.
"About what happened last night," Sherlock began. John cocked his head to the side and watched him, trying to figure out what he was going to say. "It was…I'm sorry if I did anything that made you uncomfortable, I know you are not gay but-" John cut Sherlock off but placing his hand on Sherlock's lips.
"You don't need to apologize for anything."
Sherlock smiled and then settled into his chair to finish his tea. Things returned to normal after that day, though John often thought of kissing Sherlock again.
The second time their relationship breached more than friendship was during a late night stake out. It was the middle of January, so both men were soon numb with cold as they stood outside the building Sherlock was sure the suspect would be coming to.
"Sherlock we are going to freeze to death out here."
"It's highly unlikely we will die." John rolled his eyes and tried to shove his hands deeper in his pockets. An hour later Sherlock put his arms around John and pulled him close. John went rigid, it had been weeks since they kissed and John was finally starting to accept it may never happen again, but soon he relaxed against Sherlock. He was glad for the warmth as well as for the closeness. Their suspect never did show up, and it was another hour before Sherlock was willing to go home and admit defeat.
When they got back to the flat Sherlock took off his coat and scarf and watched as John did the same. Then he pulled John to the couch, quickly draping a blanket over them as he lay down and pulled John's body close to his.
The next morning when Mrs. Hudson brought them their morning tea they were still on the couch, tangled tightly together.
After that night things between them were different. Sherlock would put his hand on John's arm when they were at crime scenes, as if he was guiding him; John would get much closer to Sherlock than was necessary as they looked at clues. All sense of personal boundaries had been shattered since the stake out.
One morning while John was sitting on the couch reading the paper Sherlock pushed the paper aside and climbed into John's lap. John's fingers tangled in the detective's curls as their lips met. Sherlock began kissing John's jaw, and then he trailed kisses down his neck. John let out a soft moan and pushed his hips against Sherlock's. He began to unbutton Sherlock's shirt, but was soon interrupted by Sherlock's phone buzzing. A few minutes later they were in a cab heading to a crime scene.
Three days later they had tracked down the killer with great effort. The two men made their way back to the flat, hours after the arrest had been made. When they got inside John was ready to climb into bed and not come out for days. Sherlock, however looked like he could keep going.
He grabbed John, pushed him roughly against the door, and began to kiss him. John responded eagerly and wrapped his arms around Sherlock. They eventually made their way back to Sherlock's bedroom. By the time they got there both of them were only wearing their pants. They collapsed into bed and moments later they were both asleep.
The next morning Mrs. Hudson picked up their trail of clothes and deposited them in the laundry hamper. Then she set out their morning tea and quietly left the flat.
John had come home from work to discover Sherlock performing an experiment that involved thumbs and John's favorite mug. He asked Sherlock calmly what he was doing and why, and when he got a response no better than "an experiment, John." He lost his patience.
Soon he was yelling at Sherlock, accusing him of never thinking of anyone else other than himself, throwing insults and curse words at him as he did so. Sherlock kept trying to interrupt John and defend himself but John wouldn't let him get a word in. Sherlock gave up and instead started kissing John.
John was so angry he thought about pulling away and storming out, instead he wrapped his arms around Sherlock and eagerly returned the kiss.
"Don't think that this means I'm not mad at you anymore," John said once they had pulled apart.
"Let me see what I can do to fix that." Sherlock pulled John in for another kiss, he began to trail kisses down John's neck and slipped one of his hands under John's jumper. Soon John had forgotten what he was mad about and after a make out session that could rival teenagers they had ended up on the couch.
"John, would you say we are in a relationship?" Sherlock asked. He had been silent for a long time, obviously trying to assess their relationship.
"I guess we are," John answered as Sherlock stretched out, draping his long legs over John's lap. John put one hand on Sherlock's knee and with the other switched on the Telly. It may have been a bit or an unconventional relationship, but they never were big on conforming.
The End