*****Authors Note: Hello, everyone! First of all, I'd like to apologise for my hiatus, which was much, much longer than I expected. I've had exams right the way through January, and since then I've been preparing for my final exams that now I've nearly finished sitting. Only one more to go! Woo hoo! So yeah, because I'm nearly done with those and I'm on study leave, I decided to pick this story back up again. Hopefully the next chapter shouldn't be a long wait as I'm really excited to write it, and things are finally going to heat up between Sherlock and John! I hope you enjoy this chapter, and remember that reviews are always helpful! Thank you!*****
"Sherlock?" John shouted through the crowd as he tried to squeeze past all the people. He could spot Sherlock a mile off; his height, the mop of curls on the top of his head, and his long trademark jacket – with turned up collar, of course – all made him stand out from the rest of the students.
Sherlock was in his own little world, trying to fight through the mass of people, some loitering and others with the same ambitions as him, all clogging up the outside area of the university. It was always busy after the holidays, as most were returning back to the halls from their homes. Sherlock usually made an effort to get there slightly earlier to beat the rush, but this time was different; this time he had arranged to meet John.
The Christmas holidays for Sherlock were spent like every other year: mostly by himself, locked away in his room – until Christmas day came and his mother made him come downstairs and "spend time with the family" – or out and about, solving little cases for people who knew of him in his town. For John, the holidays were entirely different. He couldn't imagine wanting to spend a time like that by himself. For him, Christmas was about family, and making everyone happy. His views on family, friends, and stuff like that were almost the opposite of Sherlock's, he knew that, they both knew that. And yet, for people so different, they seemed to just… click.
"Sherlock!" John called out again. "Sherl-" He was close enough now to grab the sleeve of his jacket, and Sherlock finally turned around. John chuckled at himself, slightly out of breath from fighting his way over to him. "Hi," He finally said once the both of them had stopped, and he had quickly ushered Sherlock out of the way of the crowd.
"Hello," Sherlock responded, his lips curling into a smile at the sight of the boy before him, which John imitated. If Sherlock was an openly affectionate person, then he could have hugged John right then. He wouldn't admit it, but Sherlock had missed him.
They walked into the building with each other, John making small talk with Sherlock, catching up a little on what they had missed with each other while they were separated over the holidays, regretting that they should have met up more often. John told him about the family Christmas dinner, smiling fondly at the memory, while Sherlock had a completely different expression while talking about his.
It felt like conversation was beginning to trail off between them, but it was almost like John couldn't bear that to happen, and he began rambling about all sorts of things that Sherlock wasn't listening to a word of. He was more concentrated on John's body movements. He was doing all sorts of things with his hands; tapping his fingers, more gestures while talking than usual, fumbling with sleeves. Sherlock could tell he was nervous about something or other.
"You want to ask me something." He interrupted John in his nonsense babbling.
"I-… What?"
"You want to ask me something. I can tell, it's something important. You're nervous." John swallowed and stayed silent for a moment, completely unexpectedly caught out. How could Sherlock have known? Asking wasn't even something he'd thought about yet, the question was still only just the formation of a plan at the back of his mind.
"Well, no, I was, uh, going to, uh, thinking of maybe-"
"John," Sherlock cut into his mumbles, raising an expectant eyebrow.
John stopped walking, bringing them both to a halt outside of his dorm door.
"Do you want to come in? My roommate won't be in for a while," He added. He knew Sherlock would be able tell he was trying to change the subject, but he carried on anyway. "Unless you want to take your stuff back to your room or…?"
"No, no I'll come in," Sherlock nodded. He knew John was trying to change the subject. But he also knew that it wouldn't be long before John brought it back up again. His nerves would only get the better of him, and because he probably knew that Sherlock wouldn't forget about this.
John dumped his bag on his bed as soon as he got in, throwing his jacket on a hook on the back of the door after he did, before sitting himself down on the bed as well. Sherlock stood at the side of the room, near the door that he came in. "You can sit down too, you know?" John chuckled and Sherlock felt a small flush of heat rise to his cheeks.
"Yes…" He shook his head at himself. "Of course." Sherlock glanced between the two beds, John's and his roommate's – where did John want him to sit? – before deciding to perch himself on the end of John's bed. He looked across at John after a long moment and furrowed his brows slightly. "Why are you smirking like that?"
"I'm not smirking," John tried to deny with a hint of laughter in his voice which made it more obvious.
"You are, you're smirking at me. Why?" John finally let out a chuckle.
"You're just so bloody awkward about everything!"
Sherlock began to laugh with him.
Both John and Sherlock had lost track of time. They had been sat on John's bed for a few hours now, just chatting, laughing. They were both thankful that John's roommate hadn't barged in yet and disrupted the moment they were having, even though worries about that were long forgotten by that point. Sherlock now had his back against the wall that was beside John's bed, while John sat leaning back against the headboard. They were so nearly sitting next to each other. For a small moment, they slipped into silence. It was an odd sort of silence, because it felt like they were saying a thousand words just by looking at each other. Sherlock's eyes drifted over John's face and traced over his lips. Oh God did he want to just reach forward, cup his face in his hands and bring him into a kiss… But no. He couldn't do that. He had no idea how John would react to something like that. Well, not at this stage in their friendship anyway.
Friendship. That was an odd word for Sherlock to associate himself with. He hadn't been involved in many friendships in his life, and to make one now, so unexpectedly and fast was very strange, yet still all-the-welcome. Mainly because it was John. Such an unlikely pair and yet there they were; friends. Sherlock felt so greedy and selfish for wanting more than that.
"Sherlock?" Sherlock blinked. John's voice was soft, but Sherlock was still a little startled by the sudden interruption. "Sorry," He apologised and Sherlock shook his head and smiled. "It's just that you were right earlier. I was planning on asking you something." Sherlock tried to hold back a smirk. He knew it would come out eventually. "Although I have no idea how you guessed it so fast, I wasn't even sure if I was going to ask it then..." John chuckled and Sherlock straightened up, anticipating what John was going to propose to him. "Anyway, it's nothing really important… Well, sort of… I don't know…"
That clearly meant it was something pretty big.
"Do you want to go out somewhere this weekend?" He finally asked after a moment's pause, which Sherlock then imitated. That was it? He just wanted to go out somewhe- Oh.
"You mean like a date?" Sherlock blurted out, causing John's face to immediately flush with colour.
"W-well, I mean- I didn't say that, I- I'm not…" He left that sentence unfinished, but Sherlock knew what he was going to say. God, why did he always have to try his luck?
"Yes, of course, sorry. I shouldn't have assumed. Or asked. I do apologise." Sherlock tried to quietly laugh it off, but the chuckle came out sounding forced and uneasy. "Like you said: I always make things awkward, don't I?"
"You haven't made things awkward, Sherlock, I just… You took me by surprise that's all."
"Right."
They lapsed into another moment of quietness.
"I guess I should be getting back to my dorm now anyway," Sherlock shuffled forward a little on the bed so he was sitting on the edge. "It's getting pretty late." Why couldn't he have just kept his mouth shut? John nodded, an expected reaction. Sherlock knew he had fucked up. Definitely fucked up. It would be best for him just to go. He placed his hands on the bed to push himself up and off of it, and began to make his way over to the door, grabbing his coat which he had taken off at some point during the evening. But halfway through doing so, he completely froze. Something was touching his arm. He looked down and his eyes were met with John's hand. John's hand was on his arm. Sherlock's eyes flew up to his face. Was John stopping him from leaving?
"Please wait... I'm sorry." John spoke quietly, running a tongue over his lips before finally looking up to Sherlock's eyes.
"Sorry for what? You haven't done anything." Sherlock shrugged, but his voice told a different story.
"For being a prick," John quietly laughed and took a step closer to Sherlock, his hand still placed so gently and softly on Sherlock's arm, his thumb moving back and forth slightly which made little tingles travel across Sherlock's skin. "I shouldn't have freaked out, sorry. I… I don't really know why I did." Because you become aggressive, flustered and anxious when confronted with your sexuality, Sherlock internally explained, but externally he only smiled sympathetically.
"It's okay." His gaze fell back down to John's hand as he began to move his thumb more noticeably across his skin. But it became clear that it was a subconscious movement, as when John himself noticed, that beautiful blush illuminated his skin again and he drew his hand back. "It's okay," Sherlock repeated.
"So – if you still want to, of course – do you want to go out somewhere this weekend?" Sherlock's eyes widened.
"Well, that's if you want to? I wouldn't have thought you would after that, if I'm honest."
"No," John denied straight away, shaking his head. "Of course I still want to go. Like I said, freaking out was stupid and I'm sorry. I still want to go out." Sherlock's lips curled into a smile.
"Then we'll go out," he nodded, his smile widening into a small grin.
