Winds can be harsh, especially mid-autumn winds that crack and whip beside your head, deafening you momentarily until you decide to turn your head. John pulled the snuff of his scarf over his nose, saving himself from the weather's antics before staring down at his phone. John had been taken back when his phone buzzed earlier, showing an unidentified number. When he read it, he felt his heart stop for a moment. Their entire relationship had been flip flopped between a one night stand and a new relationship since they met, and his head was in a jumble.
Greg: Hello again. I'd like to talk if you're free.
The number wasn't the same one he'd been given, but he was willing to forgive and forget if it meant another day with him. Greg seemed to be the only one who understood him now-a-days, and Greg was hardly ever there. What did that say about his family?
John: Oh, hi.. I tried contacting you before, but the number you gave me before didn't work.
His palm vibrated again before he had the chance to shove the phone back into his pocket.
Greg: Sorry for that, I gave you the wrong number… that one is for my work, and I'm used to handing it out more often when I give out my mobile address. Please accept my apologies.
He smiled half heartedly, hoping that what he said was true.. but.. if it was, then how did he go about doing his work with a broken phone? It was still suspicious in John's eyes, so he told Greg as much. They exchanged messages back and forth for a while before John finally gave in, deciding he'd rather spend his time pleasantly with Greg, rather then bickering over why his message hadn't been able to go through with the first number. He had enough bickering at home...
John: Alright.. Would you like to meet up? I could use a distraction today.
Greg: I know the feeling. I'm in a similar situation. Angelo's? Or the hotel?
John blushed, deciding that his message sounded like it was more of a booty call then anything else. He shook the thought. The night couldn't end that way this time. Mike had managed to make him feel like an ass earlier, and he didn't need his conscience blaming him for the same thing twice. He was technically engaged... his thoughts trailed back into a fit over weather or not he should Marry Mary, making him feel suddenly tired and desperate to avoid thinking about it.
John: Angelo's.
He replied, telling himself that it would just be a meeting between friends.
Greg: Half past?
John grinned at his phone before pressing the button, then mentally cursed himself.
John: It's a date.
Angelo's wasn't particularly crowded this time around, maybe they were more popular with dinner orders as opposed to lunch. Sherlock greeted John with a smile when he entered trough the door, making the little bell ting with happiness once more. John followed Sherlock's smile to the table, feeling his stomach tingle when he stood to help John into his seat-like any gentlemen would.
Sherlock took the seat opposite, pushing the menu forward to John as they started to talk. "Good to see you again John."
"..Likewise." he blushed, feeling like a grade-schooler. He lifted the menu to his face, leaving enough room to look over at Sherlock every now and then, his eyes poking over the top. "So, how is... stuff..."
Sherlock let out a short laugh, "Stuff?"
"S-sorry... I guess I feel nervous for some reason."
John watched Sherlock lean back in his chair, smiling at him. "No need to be. I won't bite."
"Outside of the bedroom." he chuckled.
Sherlock raised a brow with a smirk, "You're the one who chose the restaurant."
"Because this I'm not here for a booty call."
Sherlock leaned forward onto his elbows, linking his fingers user his chin with an amused look, "Oh? Prey tell."
"I like being with you." John replied, keeping his eyes firmly placed on his menu, "It's a good change of pace."
"..Is that all?"
John wanted to slide down more and hide his face. He knew he liked 'Greg', but he wasn't about to tell him that, and there was no way he could mention Mary and his father. That's what high school girls do. They complain. "We're friends aren't we?" he replied, trying to tame the conversation.
"Well I'd think we were more then that." Sherlock frowned, "Or do you sleep with all of your friends?"
"I'm not a prostitute!" John nearly yelled, dropping his menu onto the table.
A few people from a table nearby tilted their heads their way, trying to secretly listen in, figure out what the commotion was. John sighed, "I'm just a little lonely I guess. I know that our... whatever it is we have, is weird. It's just... I don't even know."
"Words are dull anyway." he scoffed, leaning back again with an uninterested vibe. He turned his attention to the couple at the other table who was trying to eavesdrop, and grinned. "We have an audience."
John lifted his eyes in the direction Sherlock gestured towards, taking in the two women who whispered to one another. He groaned, "Why is everyone always so nosy?" he asked, almost pouting.
Sherlock tilted his lips into a smug grin, "Want to really give them something to whisper about?"
"Like?"
Using his finger, Sherlock beckoned John closer so that he could whisper. When John leaned in however, Sherlock took him by surprise; pulling him into a heated kiss over the table. After getting over the initial shock, John let in, relaxing his shoulders and shutting his eyes. He raised his hand to hold onto the hand that cupped his cheek. When they finally pulled away, they bumped foreheads lightly, perfectly content with staying like that, "Greg..."
Sherlock frowned. He'd actually gotten a little caught up there for a second. He'd completely forgotten that this man knew him under an alias. He turned his eyes towards the girls, grinning when he saw them, mouths agape as one dropped her fork. John chuckled when he noticed, making Sherlock smile again. He wanted to tell him his real name. He brought his head back slowly, looking John straight in the face, "John.." he started, "I uh... I have something to tell you."
John looked to him curiously, "Yes?"
"I... well.. I just wanted to say that-"
"Alright then." Angelo smiled, licking the tip of his pen as he stared at John, "What'll you be having?"
Sherlock turned his head away awkwardly. That had failed hadn't it?
"Oh, I'll take the Chicken Alfredo please." he smiled, handing the menu to him. "And a glass of water if you please.."
Angelo scribbled onto his pad, "Just a cup of tea as per usual?" Angelo asked, "Or do you plan to eat with your date?" he smiled, sending him a light wink, "That was quite a display earlier." John blushed.
"No thank you." Sherlock replied, "I'm not very hungry."
Angelo shook his head, "You never are!" He shoved the pad into his apron pocket, "How's your father? Still well?"
"Fine."
"And that cake-loving brother of yours?" Angelo laughed.
"Still dieting." Sherlock smirked.
Angelo nodded at John politely, "Sorry.. I tend to get a bit carried away sometimes, I'll let you two finish. The food will be out soon."
Sherlock started to get nervous, Angelo was going to leave and then he'd have to start telling John about himself. It felt grossly out of character to be nervous, and he didn't like the feeling in his stomach. He started to dread the moment Angelo walked away. "So," John began, "turning his attention back to Sherlock, "What were you going to tell me?"
He looked so innocent and trusting. Now he felt guilty, "I.. I just wanted to say that I liked your jumper. Do you wear it often?"
John laughed, "Well, thank you. It's more comfortable then good looking I'm afraid, but I prefer it that way."
"It looks good, no need to worry."
John smiled, shaking his head, "I don't know how you do it."
"Do what?" he frowned.
"Cheer me up!" John grinned, staring at Sherlock dead on, "Each time we've met I've been in a bad mood, but you always manage to make me feel better!" he shut his eyes a little bit, hoping he was allowed to say what he wanted to say next, "Maybe its a sign."
Sherlock chuckled, "Well alright Johanna."
"No, I'm serious!" he laughed, shoving Sherlock's shoulder playfully, "I.. I like you a lot."
Sherlock's chuckling died down a little bit. "I know we've only met twice, and.. maybe you're not as interested in me as I am in you.. but.. I do like you." John continued, "I know it's girly!"
"John."
"I mean, I feel like a high school girl all the time around you.."
"John." Sherlock repeated.
"But.. I think we could have a shot, I mean, I hope so and-"
"John."
John looked over to him sadly, and it made Sherlock want to jump over the table and tackle him into a hug. He felt protective over this man, and was very attracted to him. They were compatible, and if he was honest with himself... he liked John too. Sherlock let out a heavy sigh. He was engaged now. John didn't even know his name! He would not bring an outsider into his hellish world. Not John. John was too innocent for it. The mafia life would eat him up alive. "I can't." he finally said.
He didn't want to look across the table.
John nodded. "It's.. fine." He stood suddenly, "I'm not very hungry anymore though.. so I think I'll just go home."
"John..."
"I said I'm going home." he barked, he turned for the door, stopping only for a moment to look back to the table, "Goodnight Greg."
Sherlock sunk down into the seat miserably, rubbing his temple in soothing circles. This was probably for the best. A crush is a crush, nothing serious. They weren't in love or anything. Sherlock Holmes didn't fall in love. Ever. It was a dangerous disadvantage in his world. Love made you weak, crushes made you weak...
John was starting to make him weak.
John glared at his phone when it buzzed, half expecting it to be Greg, but found himself disappointed when it wasn't all the same. Mike's name popped up on his message display. He clicked it angrily.
Mike: There's a meeting tomorrow with all of the grooms and brides to start arrangements. Andrea told me about today, are you alright? I know you're nervous. Did you decide what you want to do?
John felt angry at Sherlock, and didn't ever want to speak to 'Greg' again. So he started to click the buttons, pressing hard on every letter before slamming his thumb on the send button.
John: I'll go tomorrow, and I'll marry Mary.
