Just One More Night of Flesh: Interested

John and Sherlock were at the lunch table again, laughing at Mary's impression of Chewbacca, when Anderson walked up behind Sherlock and tapped him on the shoulder. When Sherlock turned to face him, he tried to punch Sherlock.

But the taller burnet was quick, and the ugly one missed. Then Sherlock grabbed his fist and pulled it to behind his back, "Would you give up already? And don't try John, either," he leaned closer and whispered, "My boyfriend wouldn't like it if my face, or his for that matter, weren't so pretty, now would he?" and he pushed him into the other table behind him.

"You," he pointed and stuttered, "You're with…?" he glanced at the smirking blond, and back to the towering burnet, and then he screamed like a girl, "EEEWWWW!" and ran away, trying to get Sherlock's 'touch' off of him, "I've been touched by a homo! Get it off!"

But Sherlock just laughed as well as Mary and John when he sat back down and put his arm around John's waist. "That should keep him away now. Either that or-"

"I'll kick his ass. I'm pretty good in combat as well," he cleared his throat, "My dad taught me." but he was smiling, proud to admit that his father was amazing. And Sherlock's smile reflected John's and Mary suddenly felt jealous.

She hid it well, but Sherlock saw it, and he was giving her smug glances when he got the chance. And then the bell rang.


Maths was a little weirder, seeing as the professor kept eyeing the couple he had in his class. Little geniuses… maybe I should ask them. But I don't know if they'd accept something like that. No, I'll wait until they graduate. Magnussen studied the boys and decided they'd be good to have on his task force. He smiled when the bell rang and he stopped them.

"I would like you two to know, that when you apply to college you should consider getting a job that deals with Maths. It seems you like this class," he complimented.

"Actually, I plan to be a consulting detective, and John," Sherlock nudged his elbow with his own, "is going to be an Army doctor, so we're good. See you tomorrow," he waved and took John's wrist and lead him from the classroom and to their next classes.

The professor leaned back in his swivel chair and thought they had potential.


"He seemed interested in how good we were," Sherlock squeezed John's hand slightly and it was returned.

"It just, it kinda creeps me out," he admitted and looked to Sherlock who was smiling smugly.

"They both have so many secrets. And they're both so quiet… I'm glad I met you," he suddenly said to John.

"Who has secrets? What- Sherlock, tell me, I can't quite keep up with your mind," he admitted and Sherlock told him all he had deduced about Mary and Magnussen. He then theorized that Mary's secret was the reason she dumped John.

"You're all kinds of crazy," John said.

"But you like it, and you know it," Sherlock teased.

"Shut up, stupid git," he insulted him playfully.

"Arse…" he leaned in close and his breath was hot on John's neck as he said, "We're going to have so much fun tonight," he didn't care if the people surrounding him on the bus could hear it, he had to tease John with it.

"I hope you know," John said in a low voice, "that I'm making you wait for that," John declared.

"And just how long?" Sherlock asked.

"Until you're eighteen," Sherlock had told John about his age and John didn't care, even though Sherlock thought it was an issue. It really wasn't, and if anyone was going to judge, they could go fuck themselves.

"Which I hope you know, is in a few months," his hand was pressed to John's chest as he cuddled into his lover. John wrapped his arm around Sherlock's shoulders.

"A few months?" asking when it was exactly.

"Yes, November 15th, and I expect that my mother will try to throw a party and I won't invite but a few people, so it really is hopeless-" and he was cut off by John hooking a finger on his chin and making him look into those lovely blue eyes.

He kissed him so lightly, that it was barely a kiss, and he knew it would torture the burnet, as he said, "Guess you're waiting , then. But it won't be that long," he admitted. And he was right when he thought that kiss tortured Sherlock, because he then grabbed John by his jumper and crashed them together in a way that was quick, but hot.

John licked his lips nervously and just cuddled up into Sherlock again and hoped that the butterflies would settle. But they didn't and he noticed that Sherlock was also blushing and he didn't feel so bad now.


John followed slash was dragged off the bus by Sherlock when they approached a house that was magnificent. It was beautiful, almost as beautiful as the man standing in front of him. He had texted his mum that John was allowed to stay over tonight, and she didn't care.

He lead John through the green grass and to the door that was painted black, despite the pretty blue the house was on the outside. John liked it, and as Sherlock pushed it open, he was surprised at the room in front of him.

It looked as though it came straight from the movies. There were two sitting chairs and a couch and a coffee table sitting in front of a fireplace, and off to the left was a kitchen that had all that John could dream of. He saw a woman there, her jade eyes meeting his and he looked at the rest of her, as Sherlock greeted her as he always did: with a kiss to the cheek.

"Mum, this is John," he pulled John over to meet this beautiful woman. John blushed a little and waved while mumbling a responsive "Hi," but that was it. She smiled warmly down on this man who was in her son's grip.

She hugged him, which surprised John, but when she whispered, "Take care of my dearest Sherlock," he understood. He nodded and Sherlock yanked them both up to his room. All the way up the thirty two stairs and to Sherlock's room.

Sherlock sat in his bed and John walked slowly in, "Close the door, would you, little doctor?" he gave him a last minute nickname, and decided he actually liked that one.

"Little Doctor?" he asked as he did as he was asked as he stripped his back pack and his jumper, a flannel underneath.

"Yes, is there something wrong with that?" Sherlock asked, almost sounding offended.

John shook his head, "No, just a little surprising, I guess," and he leaned over Sherlock's shoulder as he saw him pull out the homework given. It wasn't much today, just for two classes and they finished it together before Mycroft walked in.

John's eyes were wide as he took in this man. He was in a suit, as always, and had a glare placed on his face, but it was one that John could tell was always there. "Sherlock," he looked to blond and gave a sudden warm smile that John returned, "Is this that boy you won't shut up about?"

John smiled and leaned into Sherlock more as he said, "That boy has a name. He's John, and yes. He is fabulously intriguing and interests me far more than your words right now. Go away," he gripped John's waist harder and John squirmed under the sudden pressure.

"Don't be so mean to your brother," John warned, "You may need him one day and he won't be there because you hurt him. But you," he looked at the smug elder, and smiled as he said, "need to be nice in return," John demanded of them.

Sherlock looked at him in utter endearment, and Mycroft was shocked, but the smile on his lips spread to a grin, "You hear? We should be brothers instead of squabbling men," Mycroft said stiffly.

"Whatever. Please leave my premises, now," he demanded in a 'nice' way. John glared at him, but he refused to be warm towards his brother. He looked at the wall defiantly and Mycroft left.

Once the door clicked shut again, Sherlock kissed him. John was confused, "What was that?" he asked, blinking several times.

"Because that was beautifully played. He's probably still pissed at me, but at least it's not so much now," Sherlock nodded once, his silky curls bouncing and John slightly swooning.

"What'd you do?" John asked. Was there a specific reason Mycroft was pissed at his lover?

I experimented on his cat after my dog died. The cat obviously didn't make it and I was pissed that the serum failed, but Mycroft was even more pissed that I killed Mittens," Sherlock laughed briefly at the name.

"When was this?" John asked.

"Oh, only a week ago when we first moved in. It was funny, he was soooo pissed," he laughed again. John rolled his eyes at his cruel burnet and snuggled into him. "Dinner?" he asked after the fit of laughter… : )