John

Sherlock is kissing me. He's kissing me, oh God he's kissing me.

Usually his mouth is doing something completely different; when it isn't spewing out deductions because he's such a bloody smartarse it sometimes curls into a funny little smile or sometimes it's just a line, an annoying line which tells me absolutely nothing. Then again I don't know if my mind has just been emptied or filled by this, has it stopped my thoughts or multiplied them, his mouth against mine.

It lasts for five seconds or so but it feels like a minute, even longer. He pulls away, his bottom lip lagging a little. He stays close though, stays in that distance and a lump rises in my throat before exploding into an anticlimax: "what?"

My voice is a little hoarse in all of this. I've killed people why am I scared? I shouldn't be scared, I'm Doctor John Watson, war vete-

"I'm sorry." He steps back.

My heart has thumped like a drum all of this time and I think it just cracked, the look in his eyes just kills me. It kills me. My knees want to give in but I don't let them. I can't let them. Sherlock's eyes, they look right at me and I wither inside. The earlier moment replays in my head and loops, round and round and round. That look before he went for it. Those lips and how they felt; oh God did I enjoy that?

"Sherlock, I-"

"-don't worry. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have, I-"

"-no. It's just, I-"

"-I know."

"No you don't."

He shuffles his feet and watches them before swallowing and looking back up at me. He looks frightened. "I don't."

"You can't make a deduction? You can't do the thing, where you-"

"-no. John please, I'm sorry I-"

I don't know what gets into me but something definitely does. A thought, a string like thought that crawls like a worm around my brain ensnaring it as it goes and then it bites. Maybe it was the look before or the look after or the feeling. Maybe even that I held my breath because taking in his scent would send me plummeting to the ground below. Maybe it's that I have to get up on my tip toes to – oh Jesus Christ – kiss him back.

It's shorter, it feels shorter anyway. Short and sweet. Bittersweet more like. The bitter just hit me, oh God why did I- he kisses me again. This time I'm sort of ready. Sort of. His hands go up to my neck like he has to pull me closer, his finger tips go through my hair like he-

Like he means it. Like I meant it too. If I even did, did I? Does it matter?

I remember once Antonia said- oh shit Antonia. She's not here. She doesn't know. She's not watching. Don't think of your daughter during a kiss John that's a bit of a turn off. Anyway, she showed me this video of a baby monkey riding on a pig and I choked on my tea laughing and so did she and we couldn't work out why it was so funny. She said it was crazy, the good kind of crazy and that was why it was so good.

Maybe that applies here too.

One hand moves further down, I think he's feeling my pulse. It's insane. There's no point in even denying anything now. I want to move closer to him, we're so close but not close enough I just want to- I don't even know anymore. It's too late. It's over, he moves away and I don't want him to Sherlock come back. It feels better when it's happening, not when it's not and I have time to think this over.

I'm breathless. I try to think or get some kind of message across but I just can't. A funny smile creeps onto his face and he blushes. I'm about to melt.

"John?"

"...yes?"

"Still not gay?"

"Maybe a little- this is just... it's a bit of a blur to me, it just feels right, it... it just feels right..."

"John." Sherlock moves close up to me and I want him to kiss me again but he doesn't, he just takes my hand, smoothing over the back with his thumbs. "John I don't want to-"

"-I think I... I think I sort of, I might, I probably do really... like you. I don't know why I didn't-"

"-John stop it. If you keep talking you'll make us both overthink."

"I'm sorry, this is all really new to me I mean it's been a long time and I don't know if I need you or just someone and I... I don't want to take any chances."

"John you don't-"

"-come home with me."

"No."

"Please come home with me Sherlock. I know you want to, Antonia's getting back late and- and it just feels right, you know? It feels right..."

"I'm frightened this won't go as you want it to, the aftermath-"

"-I'm allowed to do this. I'm allowed to be reckless. Sherlock please-"

The grip around my hand tightens and I meet his gaze again only this time it's challenging. "Lead the way, then."

Sherlock

For a long time, all I wanted was John with me. He's currently pressed against a wall as our tongues are battling for what feels like, to the death. That's fine too, completely fine.

"John," I call in a breath, sliding a finger into the gap between his shirt buttons. I'm at the point where I don't think I could ever stop any of this.

My lips bruise against his over and over and I feel his arms wrap around my neck, pulling me closer than I was before. I run my hands through his hair like I did earlier as I pull away and look at him and dear lord what I would do to that man. I move down to his neck, clamping my mouth around his throat before sucking and he gasps.

"S-Sherlock... fuck, you could have placed it somewhere less obvious."

"Sorry." I try to keep my hands from shaking as I start to undo the button on his top collar, followed by the rest, placing kisses as I go down. He returns the favour and within another kiss, his hand slides around my inner thigh and I swallow.

"John, please..." Our hips move against each other before I stop, grinding to a halt. "You're my student's father."

"You're my daughters teacher is this allowed?"

"I hope so."

"I hope so too."

"Do you have any-"

"-yeah there's a box of stuff under the sink we never talk about, when Antonia was fifteen I gave her a really brief sex talk and it's there so she's safe, you know, we could break into that... oh God Antonia."

"Will she really care that much?"

"I don't know I mean-"

"-let's give it the benefit of the doubt and take this matter to the bedroom."


"Stop watching me." He mumbles, face buried in a pillow.

The light creeps in through the curtains, throwing beams along John's back. He's barely awake, his hair is everywhere but he's still John. My John. Technically my John anyway. Maybe. I'm not really sure what's going on after last night and I really don't like it. I'd like to know what's going on so I poke the dent between his shoulder blades.

"Jooohn." I say in a sing-song voice, a little out of character for me I must say. He bats my hand away and I become stern. "John. Wake up."

"No."

"I want to talk."

"Exactly." I watch his hand inelegantly grab the pillow next to him before pulling it over his head.

"You're unprepared to face the consequences of your actions and/or you don't know where to move from here in terms of you and I and where we stand. You don't want to talk to me because you feel like you'll be confronted with it all."

He looks up from beneath, almost enquiring. "I thought you weren't good at emotional stuff."

"I'm getting better."

"I don't think I want this to be a one night stand."

"You don't?"

"Nope. I think I might have actually liked you, in a really weird way and I still do. Sort of. We might as well try."

"Try what?"

"Try this. Us."

"What if you change your mind?"

"Can't you tell I won't? I just... it all feels right. I feel like this should be a thing, we should be a thing."

"We should probably go on a proper date then."

"We could do that. This is happening fast isn't it?"

"I suppose."

"It's like we're going backwards, not backwards, just it all feels like it was in the wrong order."

"John I need closure. I don't like this."

"I always thought you were reckless and dangerous and fun and odd. You don't seem that now."

"I don't know what I am but I need to know what's going on. You always needed to know too."

"Role reversal then."

"John please explain to me what's going on."

"I thought you knew everything."

"I don't know everything, I-"

"-yeah. I know. I just... maybe I want to be with you. More. A lot."

"I'd like to be with you too. So will you get a coffee with me?"

John cracks a smile. "No – I mean yes, of course I will."

"It took you long enough."

"Far too long. We should probably get dressed."

"I think I might need to borrow a shirt."

Before I know it, we're both standing in the kitchen. John's resting against the work top reading the mail and I put my arm around his waist and kiss his cheek, before taking my place opposite him. The shirt I'm wearing doesn't fit that well and I keep noticing him staring. It's quite funny actually.

"Do you want a coffee?" He licks his lips, finally looking me in the eyes.

"Black, two sugars, please."

I hear slow footsteps down the hall and Antonia stumbles in. Late night. Hungover. She's wearing a large football shirt and some shorts as pyjamas which is almost laughable because I can imagine John not liking that. He buys her nice, proper pyjamas even though she's practically an adult and she doesn't like him still buying her things and dressing her like she's ten years younger and he knows it, he just would rather she wore proper pyjamas instead and she rebels against that. Probably the most relaxed rule of them all and the most relaxed rebellion too.

She reaches straight out for her mug without properly looking around and John says "morning."

"Morning Dad, morning Sher-" She suddenly stops and squints at me. Her hand points to John, then back to me, then back to him then back to me all whilst squinting. She takes a deep breath. "I am far too hungover to deal with this."

Then she walks out back to bed. John straightens up, ready to go after her but I stop him, pressing my hand against his chest. "That's probably the last thing she wants."

"But- I mean how could I forget, I-"

"-she'll be fine." My eyes stray up to the clock on the wall and I'm alarmed. "I need to be off, right now actually."

"Right now?"

"Right now. Appointment."

"With who?"

"Someone, it's important. I'll see you soon."

"What about the shirt? Can you wait ten minutes for the shirt?"

"No, keep it as a ransom. I might need it back."

I feel bad leaving John to explain this all to Antonia by himself. Then again I don't plan on him ever knowing what this is and why it matters. Specifically why it matters.

I nearly forgot myself. There was a double meaning there, I can feel it.


See, I was gonna put a funny warning saying "hold on to your boxers" or something at the beginning but I didn't wanna spoil anything. This story should actually have a few warnings but they would also be massive spoilers so I kind of, you know, yeah. *evilly cackles* oh man you guys are going to hate me so much for this. Anyway yeah, sorry for the long wait though I promised a shorter one, I've had exams and shit and when I wasn't doing exams and shit I was on Akinator trying to see how obscurely I could answer questions until it didn't guess it was Sherlock. I failed. I mean, he could have directed a porn movie though. I'm rambling so much I'm sorry. *lifts all your boobs down from the ceiling* thanks for that guys. Boobs are great, loads of them, all flying around and all for me! God I'm weird I need to stop now. Reviews would make me super duper happy and I should actually have more time to write now!

(also cheers to my bud foreveryourss for reading this over for me because I'm so tired check her out she's really rad, yo)