"Get it! Get it!" He grunted loudly. Sweat was dripping down the side of his neck. It felt like his body was on fire.
"Harder. HARDER, SHERLOCK." John held himself as rigid as possible. His thighs were quivering and beginning to cramp. This was more difficult than it looked initially.
"I'm-going-as-hard-as-I-can" Sherlock panted. If the kitchen table continued to scrape against the floor, Mrs. Hudson would look for the source of the noise. That was the absolute last thing the pair wanted to occur. The genius exhaled sharply and stopped. "Do you want to do it?"
"Switch with me, switch with me." John gasped, trying to collect as much oxygen in his lungs as he could. The burning sensation was welcome. "Shit, my hands are slipping."
"Hold...still..." The consulting detective gritted his teeth. His face was turning pink as he held his breath, grunting through his jerky movements. Just as John's hands were about to slip, Sherlock gave one last thrust. He groaned loudly and collapsed against the table.
"God, I thought that was never going to work." John grinned lazily, wiping sweat from his forehead.
"You didn't even do anything. I did all the work." Sherlock stretched his neck, fastening the buttons that came loose on his shirt. John squirmed at the sight of the taller man's defined muscles rippling beneath the fabric. His dark curls were matted against his temples and at the nape of his neck.
"It was worth it." The blonde closed his eyes and rested his head against the wooden surface. "Now we can all officially be princesses." He held up the pieces of the tiara they had won. It took them a lot longer to split than they had originally intended. Perhaps using a serrated knife wasn't the best or wisest choice of tool.
"I'm sure Lestrade will be thrilled." The genius snatched his portion of their souvenir.
It was John's idea to divide the tiara into three pieces so each of them could display it-or hide it-for the rest of their lives. He begrudgingly accepted that there was a video of the show on the club's website. Irene had emailed him the link the night after the show and said it was the highest rated video on their web page. There was nothing he could do about that. He prayed Mike or Sarah wouldn't find it. That was one explanation he wasn't looking forward to.
"Oh man, I'm starving. Where'd I put that hot pocket?" The pastry was cold but not enough that John would get rid of it. He inspected it with a whine. It was barely wrapped in a napkin and he had set it down next to their crown. "There's metal bits on it. Ugh." A quick dust with his hand was all it required as he bit into his cold meal. "Want some?" John offered to his friend, speaking over a full mouth.
"That is quite repulsive John." Sherlock threw himself into the kitchen chair. The blonde shrugged and happily munched on his pastry.
He chewed thoughtfully."What time are your parents coming?"
A loud sigh filled the room and John snickered at his friend's irritation. "Mycroft is sending a car to retrieve them. I'd rather not put a countdown on my forthcoming imprisonment."
"You are so dramatic." He pinched the bridge of his nose, "It's Audrey's birthday. They're just staying for a few days. Besides, you know Molly wanted everyone around to celebrate."
Their upcoming visit left the younger Holmes in a constant state of agitation. John couldn't deny that he was excited to spend time with Sherlock's parents. He rarely got the chance to spend time with his own parents and he actively avoided his sister. The people in his building were something of a surrogate family to him. Crazy...intrusive...obnoxious surrogate family.
"So why can't they stay with her?" He complained.
"They're your parents Sherlock."
The genius looked momentarily hopeful which left John waiting for his stupid remark. "I could be adopted."
"No you couldn't."
"It would explain so much."
"It really wouldn't."
John swallowed the last chunk of his cold hot pocket and moved to set his piece of the tiara on top of his bookcase. Most of his flat was relatively empty, at least in comparison to Sherlock's. "Besides, you look identical to both of them. If anything, your brother is the one who looks adopted."
The genius moaned loudly, "Don't tease me John."
The blonde blinked at his friend. Laughter spilled past his lips and he doubled over in his seat, resting his head on his forearms. "I don't understand. They're so sweet! How did they end up with you?" He shook his head in resignation and pulled his phone out of his pocket. There were four missed messages from Molly.
Can you and Sherlock please pick up the cake?
-Molly
Oh, I need green and yellow streamers.
-Molly
I FORGOT THE BALLOONS!
-Molly
Please help me.
-Molly
"We've been summoned." He sent her a quick text and wiped the screen before shoving it back in his pocket. "We're going to the store."
"No."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Sherlock."
"John."
He sighed. This man-child was impossible.
"Your parents can stay with me."
"Fine."
John threw his fists in the air. It was a small price to pay. He was fond of Sherlock's parents and didn't have a issue lending his home to them. If history repeated itself, he would probably find himself in Sherlock's bed, yet again. As platonically as his hormones would allow.
The pair exited Baker Street and walked to the nearest Tesco. John had become rather prideful in his physique as the constant exercise was doing wonders for his calves. Of course, it would never be enough as he had to lightly jog to keep stride with Sherlock, whose legs seemed longer than John's entire body. He eventually gave up and resigned to walking a few paces behind the genius. They didn't need to fill the air with chatter. It was a comfortably quiet walk that took no longer than twenty five minutes.
"She needs the cake, balloons and party streamers." John scrolled through his texts and made his way inside the store.
"We need milk." Sherlock walked off without warning, leaving John alone in the bakery. He walked up to the glass display filled with assorted cakes.
"What can I do for you?" The young employee looked as if he'd rather be anywhere else than near the store. He couldn't have been older than seventeen.
"Yes, I'm supposed to pick up a birthday cake?"
"Name?" The kid barked.
John scowled at him. Part of him wished that Sherlock hadn't walked off and analyzed the boy to a puddle of deductive mud. The more he thought about it the more he felt bad for wishing that upon him. Sherlock was brilliant albeit intense, he was well aware of this. John truly believed that those who dismissed him because of his brash nature would never know the magnificence of such genius. Most people felt threatened and intimidated by his loud personality. John felt nothing short of admiration for the man. He was living in a world where being different was treated in hypocritical fashion. Half of the time society encourages people to display their uniqueness and the other half they promote conformity. It took an obscene amount of confidence and bravery to function against the odds. A small part of John wished that his friend would work on his bedside manner and be a bit more empathetic. However, that side of him was easily demolished by his belief that Sherlock was in fact different and no matter how rude or obnoxious he could be, he was the best man he knew. All of the quirks and oddities that Sherlock was composed of made him infinitely more interesting.
"Listen mate, I'm trying to get out of here. Are you going to give me a name or what?" The kid was getting increasingly rude and John was getting annoyed.
"Check under Molly Hooper and get me the damn cake." He snapped. The employee's eyes widened fractionally before he turned and scurried to the back.
"I believe you frightened him." Sherlock's baritone voice trailed past his ear.
"Well he was being rude." John eyed gallon of milk he was holding. "How long is that going to last? Ten minutes? Ten years?"
"Don't be ridiculous John." The genius rolled his eyes, "That was one time and I'll have you know it was only three years old."
He had been cleaning Sherlock's fridge and came across a carton of milk that had deep yellow color and looked freakishly like cottage cheese. Upon, stupidly, smelling the putrid milk he ending up nearly passing out and cursed Sherlock to the deepest pits of hell.
"Um, the only birthday cake we have in file is for an Audrey Green." The store employee came back nervously staring at the intensely brooding man standing with John.
Sherlock gave a tight nod. "That's it." He handed John the milk and reached across the display to snatch the cake from the boy's hands. With a quick glance over the surface, making sure the spelling was correct, he swiftly spun on his heels and stalked away from the counter.
"Thank you." John mumbled and turned to catch up with his friend. "I know he was rude and all but I'm pretty sure he's going home to cry now."
It was almost enough to make Sherlock laugh. Almost. "Take a look." He tilted the cake in John's direction.
John grinned at the sight. It was a small cake covered in light blue fondant, with a darker blue octopus covered in yellow polka dots sitting on top. Around the sides were various sea paraphernalia such as small white circles for bubbles, green strands made to look like seaweed, and yellow starfish with happy faces. There was a purple nautilus shell and pink coral on the trims resting below the starfish. Cute little orange and purple striped fish sat along the yellow cake plate. 'Happy 1st Birthday Audrey!' was written in blue lettering. It was truly an adorable cake.
"Why didn't Molly change Audrey's last name to Hooper?" John knitted his brows together and looked to the genius.
"Sentiment." He stated flatly. John laughed loudly at his tone and went off in search of balloons and streamers. They found the green and yellow decorations but ended up just buying two bags of colored balloons. When John had told Sherlock to make the most of his money, he'd been rewarded with a dark glare.
"I already pay for everything."
"No, you steal your brother's card and pay for everything because you're too lazy to go to the bank and get a new one. Maybe if you watched where you put your things, you wouldn't set them on fire so often."
"God-"
"Nope."
"That was one time!"
"One time too many. Now be a good consulting detective and give the cashier your brother's money."
Sherlock didn't speak to John on the way home. Instead of walking, they opted the catch a cab. It was faster and they didn't want the cake to get messed up. So John simply sat next to his friend, mashed his lips together and tried his hardest not to laugh.
"Would you rather be deaf or blind?"
He was met with complete silence. So naturally, he began to rant.
"I would rather be deaf. It seems like an easier disability to live with. I mean, over twenty years of being able to see color and people and where you're going suddenly being taken away from you for the rest of your life. Well, that's got to be a horrible adjustment. Then again you could always get retinal implants and such but who really has the money for that. Insurance doesn't cover it. Hell, I'd rather just be deaf. I mean, it would be hard not being able to hear your voice or music or telly but I guess there's always subtitles. Sign language would be pretty cool to learn-"
"John." Sherlock winced, "Please do not involve yourself in Ms. Adler's childish games."
He cut off mid speech. "Well, which is it then?" John smiled cheekily at his friend.
With a heavy sigh Sherlock answered "Deaf."
John set the bags on Sherlock's kitchen counter. He checked his watch, mentally calculating how much time he would have to shower before he was interrupted and yanked out. With a look over his shoulder, he saw Sherlock was busying himself furiously texting. He figured it was a good time as any to sneak out.
He quietly moved past the genius and straight out the door. His flat was relatively clean and presentable so he wouldn't have much to clean before Sherlock's parents arrived. Which was likely any minute. Hopping quickly into the shower, he scrubbed his skin raw and gave himself a quick shave. After twenty minutes of peace, he figured it was time to get ready for the party. He didn't bother wrapping himself in a towel and rested it upon his head where his hair was dripping. John made his way to the sitting room to retrieve the phone he left on the sofa. He didn't make it.
The blonde nearly jumped out of his skin and yelped at the sight of Violet and Siger Holmes sitting on opposite sides of their youngest son at his kitchen table.
"OH MY-" He yanked the towel off his head and fumbled with wrapping it around his waist.
"Oh my indeed." Violet giggled furiously and stood to hug him, "Hello again John. Sorry to intrude. Sherlock said you would be getting ready but perhaps he simply wanted to show you off."
John tightened his grip on his towel and kissed her cheek. "I'm so sorry. I don't normally have much company so I just," He waved his arm weakly. Heat was burning beneath his cheeks. Thankfully the ones on his face.
"Don't be ludicrous John. I've seen you naked just as much as I've seen myself." Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"Hello again son. Good to see you. Well, maybe not all of you." Siger Holmes stood and held his hand out.
"Yeah" John mumbled and clasped hands with him.
"Well, go and get dressed dear and we'll wait downstairs for you." She hugged him again. He all but ran to his bedroom but not before hearing 'My goodness, Sherlock, I can see why you like him. That body!"
If he could have died on sheer will power, he just might have. He purposely took his time getting dressed. There was no point in being embarrassed since apparently his nudity was to be celebrated amongst his ridiculous circle of friends. Half of the building had seen him naked. Irene had walked in on him masturbating once and tried to stay to watch. Sherlock didn't talk to her for a week when he figured it out. Molly saw him naked walking around his flat because his genius friend left his door wide open. Mrs. Hudson popped in unannounced all the time and more often than not, he was nude. Then there was the genius himself who practically lived to walk in on John.
He concluded that he spent too much too much time in his birthday suit and his neighbors were all too comfortable with that. With a shake of his head, he made his way to his best friend's flat.
"John. It's come to my attention that your nudity is becoming something of a epidemic. Should we be concerned?" John was greeted with a smug Mycroft. He glared at the umbrella twirler and flipped him off.
"I'm going to make it my personal mission to make sure you get no cake Mycroft." John stalked around his large frame and into the kitchen.
"How do you take your coffee, love?" Violet was braving her younger son's mess of a fridge. Thankfully Sherlock had some sense to pick up milk. It was a rare feat indeed.
"Black, no sugar, thanks." He moved a jar of earlobes off of Sherlock's table. It made him slightly weary that Violet didn't seem to be perturbed by the body parts floating around the room. Then again, she did birth and raise him.
She passed him his cup and motioned towards the sofa. He plopped down, spilling some coffee on his already stained t-shirt.
"So, how are you doing my dear? You seem to have lost some weight from the last time I saw you. Is my son feeding you? He's so forgetful when it comes to nourishment. His father is the same. When he was a baby, I thought he was just a picky eater but I suppose it carried over into adulthood. My eldest was never like that. He ate everything. If you put it in front of him, he would eat it. Put on a few pounds, he did. But you're beginning to look like skin and bones." She pinched his arm and smiled. "How's your family John? Still avoiding them? I'd like to meet with them someday."
John nodded and sipped at his coffee. "I guess they're okay. I haven't really had the time to speak with them. Been a bit busy."
She lightly smacked his arm. "You should never be too busy for your family John. Don't let my son fill your head with these ideas. If it were up to him, he'd disappear off the face of the earth without saying goodbye. He never calls."
"I'm busy." Sherlock entered the room with an armful of gifts they'd accumulated for Audrey. "I don't have time to waste on such trivialities."
Violet sighed softly and shook her head. John noticed she let her hair down for the day. It was pin straight, nothing like Sherlock's, but looked very soft and silky. "My son is too good for us."
The genius bent to kiss her cheek. "Naturally."
"Where's your father and brother? It's about time we go." She scooted off the sofa, placing her mug down on his cluttered coffee table.
"Probably asphyxiating himself in the cake." John absently muttered into his drink.
Both Holmes stared at him. After a beat of silence, John looked up. His face flushed and he mumbled a quick 'sorry' before choking down the rest of his coffee and running to the fridge for the cake. Sherlock's quick witted remarks and poor attitude was rubbing off on him, and not in the way he preferred. He chastised himself for leaving Audrey's cake in Sherlock's fridge next to a pitcher of blood rather than in his barren icebox.
Both Violet and her son had left the flat by the time he made his way back. He purposely left Sherlock's door open and made his way to his neighbor's apartment. It wasn't until he got to her door that he realized he couldn't open it.
"Sherlock, open the door. I don't want to drop the cake."
"That would be so typical of you."
He whipped his head around and was met with the entire Holmes family leaving his flat. John clearly spent too much time with his insane neighbors; They were entirely too comfortable with breaking into each others homes. Who in their right mind thought nothing of their genius neighbor, his brother and their parents doing that? Obviously John. It was even worse when he shrugged off Sherlock passing his mother his key.
"Oh John it's so sweet of you to lend us your home. Although you're probably used to having alone time with Sherlock, we wouldn't want to intrude." Violet tucked an arm around her husband's waist and winked at him.
"Allow me, John." Mycroft flashed him a sickly sweet smile and opened Molly's door for him. Again with opening each others doors without knocking.
"We're here. I have cake. Hurry before Mycroft gets to it." John waltzed in straight through to Molly's kitchen.
"Oh, you got the cake! Great. Sherlock already brought me the decorations."
Molly popped out from behind her green counters. She straightened herself, wiping her hands on her sundress, and shook her head at the birthday girl. Audrey, clad in a pale yellow sundress, was laying in the middle of the floor waving a block of cheese in the air. Her light brown curls were spilled around her face making her look more angelic than usual. John could hear her babbling out loud to no one in particular.
He stuffed the cake in the fridge before turning to plant a kiss on Molly's cheek. She left him to greet her visitors who had yet to make their way from the front door.
There were platters lining the counter tops of an assortment of finger foods. A dish of orange caught his eye. "Ooh, carrots." He grabbed the whole bowl and leaned against the counter watching the one year old talk to herself.
"The first thing you do is eat. All you think about is food." Irene emerged from Molly's bedroom and shut the door behind her.
John waved the vegetable in her face. "You're one to talk. We all got food poisoning because of you."
She snatched it from him, bit a chunk off and handed it back. He frowned at her. "Yeah, but it was hilarious when I threw up on Sherlock."
He snorted and covered his mouth with his hand . The genius would kill him if he heard him laughing about it. But it was funny. "Yeah, that was gold."
"Oh, she's getting so big." Molly led Violet and Siger into the kitchen. "You must bring her to visit more often, we hardly see any of you anymore."
"Sherlock threatens us." Irene grinned and reached forward to embrace them, "Regularly." She locked arms with the eldest Holmes.
Violet giggled and patted her hand."I'm afraid I'm not bored of him just yet, dear."
"Pity" The brunette smiled at the pair of them. "You're all taken." She locked eyes with John, who'd been stuffing his face.
He gaped,"What?"
"As I've said before, your ignorance is astounding." The genius strolled in behind his parents. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall. John shot him a dark glare.
The moment Audrey heard him speak, she screamed.
"Wock" The little girl wobbled over to Sherlock. "Wock. Wock. Wock." She latched on to his trousers and reached her chubby hands up in the air. She jumped unsteadily in place, babbling incoherently. Standing in front of him, she looked like a mouse. Then again, she was rather tiny. When he didn't move, she screeched and plopped down on his feet.
"She's knows you name, dear. How adorable." Violet gushed. "I can't wait for grandchildren."
A boisterous laugh emitted from the other room. It may or may not have sounded like Mycroft. Sherlock finally moved to grab the little girl and held her out, feet dangling mid air.
" .Wock." She tapped his mouth. "Eat-eat." She pointed to John, who was still chewing.
He sighed and handed her to his mother. Violet clung to the child as if she were her lifeline.
"I remember when my boys were this little. Oh, I'm so old." She frowned.
"Yes."
Irene practically smacked the curls off the youngest Holmes's head. John cackled and almost choked on the carrot he'd been munching on. They were a twisted bunch.
The front door slammed.
"We're here! We've come bearing gifts!" Greg's loud voice boomed through the walls.
Violet gasped at Audrey, who looked too distressed that Sherlock let her go to be content in his mother's arms. "You hear that? Gifts. All for you and none for Sherlock. Let's go!" Siger chuckled at the sight and led the pair out of the kitchen. Irene dragged Sherlock by his arm to follow. He looked back to John, mouthing the word 'Help'. He smiled and waved his carrot.
Molly grinned until they were out of sight and then collapsed into the cabinet on the wall. "I'm exhausted. Who knew raising a one year old would be the most difficult of all tasks to accomplish. I thought finishing school was hard." She raised a hand to her forehead. "Come on John, let's go join everyone else."
He took the bowl with him but almost dropped it when he made it to the sofas. Mrs. Hudson was snapping a hundred pictures a minute. John doubled over in laughter at the sight of a pouting Sherlock sitting on the floor with a pink party hat tangled in his curls. Audrey was busying herself with her dollhouse, passing him the blocks she deemed suitable for their playtime. Greg stood to clap John's shoulder and thieved a veggie from him before sitting with his partner.
"What is that?" Molly pointed, horrified, to Audrey's play area. There was a tiny black Audi parked under a window. Obviously made for someone her niece's size.
"Oh dear, isn't it adorable! Mycroft bought it for her." Mrs. Hudson squeezed his arm. "She can drive it on the sidewalk. We'll be watching her of course."
"It's a car." Molly blinked in awe. "A miniature car. I don't even have a car"
"I apologize if it's out of line Ms. Hooper. I did ask Gregory if it would be appropriate." Mycroft patted his boyfriend's knee.
"No, it's great! Thank you, she'll love it. And give me a heart attack at the same time. Win-win, I suppose." She laughed weakly.
"What did you bring her Sherlock?" Irene was perched on the arm of the sofa. "A dead puppy? A liver? How about severed hands?"
"Sherlock!" The genius's parents looked appalled at their son. He glared at her and pulled the party hat off of his head, ruffling his curls.
"I originally intended to buy her a dictionary however John loudly informed me that it wasn't the ideal gift." He made quotation marks in the air. "So we bought her a dramatically disproportionate and inaccurately perceived wooden sculpture of an over sized bee on wheels." Sherlock sniffed and picked off invisible lint from his shirt.
"We bought her a Wheely Bug as he so eloquently put it." John threw an irritated glance his way.
"Muh, muh, muh" The birthday girl pointed at Molly and clapped her hands. "Hi, hi, hi, hi." She walked over to her aunt and yanked on her dress. She giggled loudly when she was raised into the air.
"You want to play with your paint?" Molly cooed at her. Audrey bounced in her arms. "Paint" She held her hands above her head, tugging on her own curls.
"We should get her cake ready." John tucked the bowl under his arm and pointed a finger in Mycroft's direction. "You're not getting any."
Sherlock followed him into the kitchen and watched as John pulled out the cake and some plates.
"Do you want kids?"
That caught John off guard. He frowned at the detective. "Can't you deduce it?" Candle. Where was the candle?
"You wouldn't be opposed to having children but you don't see yourself settling down with someone long enough to reproduce. Why?"
John set his hands down on the counter. "I don't know. I just, don't think I'll meet the right person. If there's such a thing. It's not even that, I just think I won't have time and I don't want to be the eighty year old father of a three year old." Aha! He found the candle in a drawer. "Do you? You know, want kids?"
Sherlock pondered this. He was quiet for a while, long enough for John to defrost the ice cream in the freezer. "I don't know. There's a lot to consider."
"Like?"
"Well," He rubbed his chin, " In a hypothetical situation, say you and I were raising a child together through adoption, surrogacy or whatever. Who would get up at three in the morning?All they do is cry. Who would buy the milk? Who would change the nappies? Would you take it to the doctor or would I? What if I don't like being a father? Would we give it back? What if I like being a father? Am I suitable to raise a child? If I forget to feed you, could you imagine me with spawn of my own? "
John frowned at him."You, because you don't sleep. Me, because I already do that. Both of us because it's teamwork. Either one of us. You don't know that and you don't know that either," He sucked in a breath, "Hypothetically, you know."
"Where's the cake?" Greg yelled from his spot on the sofa.
"Don't worry about it cause Mycroft isn't getting any." John hollered back. "Look Sherlock, you've got years to think about it. Live in the moment. Should you decide you want kids later on, then go for it. You'd make it work. Now take the ice cream and the plates." He lit the candle and carefully pulled the cake onto his hands.
"Happy birthday to you..." John walked slowly to the sitting room, where he was joined in song. Audrey clapped and giggled when she saw the decorated cake. He set it down on the coffee table, where she hobbled over and tried to climb on. She started singing her own birthday song, fingering the sea decorations. "Happy birthday dear Audrey, Happy birthday to you."
They all clapped for her which set her off into a frenzy. She hopped around on the floor and fell into Greg's legs. He picked her up and held her over his head until she stopped laughing. The little girl tried to put her feet on top of his head, so he set her down and let her blow out the candle.
Molly cut little slices of the cake and passed them around to each of her guests. Sherlock simply took a fork and speared John's piece before being swatted away. Audrey noticed and brought her fork over to him babbling 'Wock. ' along the way. He bent down and took the bite to please her. She passed him the fork and pointed at her mouth. " .Ah." They all laughed at the sight of the genius feeding her the little bites of cake. The little girl eventually tired of this and dragged him over to her toys again. She handed him a baby doll which he promptly dropped in his lap much to her dismay. "Baby." Audrey picked it up and tucked it under his arm. When it slipped she yanked it out and dropped it on the floor, earning a rare laugh from Sherlock.
"Tell me Martha," Siger Holmes started, "Are my boys driving you crazy yet?"
She chuckled lightly. "Nothing I can't handle. Although this morning these two young men were being quite loud with that table. I could hear them two floors down." She gave a pointed look to Sherlock and John. "They were really going at it."
The blonde coughed loudly, "We were just splitting the tiara."
Violet looked to her husband, "Is that what they're calling it these days?" He shrugged at her.
Within thirty minutes, most of the adults in the room found themselves sitting around the coffee table with a game of Candy Land spread out. Audrey had since climbed into Molly's lap and was fighting the sleep that was threatening to take over. The three elders sat back and watched the chaos of Baker Street ensue.
"Nuh-uh Greg. Bring your arse back to Gumdrop Mountain."
"Alright, Plumpy. Give me a second."
"I thought we agreed Mycroft was Plumpy."
"No, he's Gloppy remember?"
"Sherlock, it's one yellow space. Not as many as you want, yellow space."
"Yes, but I am far more intelligent therefore I'm giving myself an extra space."
"Don't give me a reason to take your arse back to Peppermint Forest."
"Stop it! You're gonna make us lose!"
"Lord Licorice is looking at me weird."
"That's cause he wants a piece of that-"
"IRENE. We have children around."
"I forgot. Sorry, Sherlock."
"YES! I made it to Molasses Swamp!"
"Shut up, nobody asked you."
"Fuck you, Queen Frostine."
"Irene."
"She wishes."
"Really John?"
"Look, we made it to Mycroft's swamp too."
"How very mature of you."
"Oh no, he's got me. He thinks my legs are made of cake! I'm going down. Help! HELP! Send backup! Send the Sour Patch Police!"
Violet chuckled at their ridiculousness.
"Well, I'm afraid it's past our bedtime." Siger helped his wife stand. "Thank you again John for lending us your home. See you in the morning." Violet kissed him on the cheek and made her goodbyes. As soon as the door closed Greg turned to John.
"Wait, so if they're staying in your bed..." He frowned, "Where are you staying?" John opened his mouth to speak but Sherlock beat him to it.
"With me, of course. Isn't that obvious?" He snapped.
"Quite." His brother sipped at his tea.
Molly giggled quietly. "I'm surprised you're so open with sharing your bed, Sherlock." She rocked Audrey in her lap as the little girl's eyes began to flutter closed. It had been a long day and the poor thing was drained.
"If I had known that when we met, I would have crawled right in." Irene winked. John felt a flare of irritation but suppressed it by sipping at his mug of tea.
"You wouldn't have made it to my bed." Sherlock muttered darkly, "While I do enjoy solitude, there is nothing indicating that I am unwilling to share my bedroom if need be. For all you know, I could be some sex crazed idiot who invites strangers into my flat every other night." He narrowed his eyes at her. She brushed it off and flipped him the bird.
"You've never even had a hickey, Sherlock." Greg chuckled at him. "A hickey. It's like a rite of passage."
"Not true. John gave me one."
John spit out his tea, spraying the liquid a good five feet in front of him. The silence was deafening.
"Hold on, what happened? Wait, wait. John? No, wait. What?" Greg's face was twitching and he was stumbling over his words. Aside from Mrs. Hudson who was grinning like the Cheshire cat, the rest of his neighbors were gaping between the two of them. Except for Mycroft. He never seemed surprised.
"Up until three weeks ago, I would have wholeheartedly agreed. However in light of recent events, circumstances have changed and I suspect John, whom because of his reaction, was trying to disregard the incident entirely. In fact, I believe he thought I didn't notice at all."
"Hang on," Irene held her hands up, "Three weeks ago? Wasn't that when..."She trailed off. Her eyes widened and her hands flew to her mouth. "We were all drunk! You fell asleep in his room. Well apparently you two weren't sleeping. Oh damn, why do I always miss the good stuff..." She pouted.
"Oh my god." John covered his face and stalked to the bathroom. "I hate you all."
"Wait, John!" He wasn't sure who called him because he slammed the door. Thankfully there was a lock. What he really needed was air, but cool water from the sink helped just the same.
'Why did he have to bring that up now. He could have said something to me in private but no, he has to tell the whole fucking world. Ohmygod, this is so embarrassing. But... he did see it. Obviously he saw it, it was bright as a fucking strawberry. Why didn't he say anything then? Was he holding it as blackmail? No, or else he wouldn't have said anything now. He seemed...proud? I don't know. I just don't know. How am I going to face them now? I'm already a mess around him. Oh my god. What am I going to do? This is so embarrassing. He could have told me. Just me. Not me and Molly and Irene and Greg and Mycroft and Mrs Hudson. Oh Christ, Mrs. Hudson! Oh my god-'
Heavy knocking broke his endless stream of thoughts. Go away. He was most definitely not in the mood to deal with any of them. They would probably torment him for the rest of his life.
"John, please unlock the door." Hell no. Sherlock's voice came muffled from behind the door. This was all his fault and now he wanted to talk privately?
"Go away Sherlock." John pulled the cover of the toilet down and plopped on it. He held his face in his hands. The doorknob rattled for a minute and then he heard the click. He sighed. Sherlock opened the door and strolled into the very tiny bathroom.
"Must you break in everywhere you go?" John mumbled into his hands.
Sherlock stood silent wringing his hands. After a moment he squatted down and sat on the floor in front of his distraught best friend. John didn't look at him. He could practically hear Sherlock's thought process and figured he could at least be courteous enough to let him know he wouldn't move out or something equally ridiculous.
"Why did you have to do that in front of everyone? If you were upset about it you could have told me privately. You didn't need to embarrass me like that. We were drunk, I don't even remember doing it." John looked at him through his lashes. Sherlock wasn't moving, and from the looks of it, barely breathing. He sighed and ran a hand through his curls.
"I apologize for my actions John. It wasn't my intention to embarrass you." He stretched his legs as much as the room would allow. "It didn't upset me, quite the opposite in fact. Yes, we were heavily intoxicated but I do remember. I didn't mind but I also didn't think to consider that you would. For that I sincerely apologize."
John pondered his little speech. "So, you liked it?" He said very slowly.
This startled the genius as he visibly jerked back. "That's what you took from all that?"
"Pretty much." He smiled timidly.
"Obviously there is not enough oxygen circulating this room."
He scrambled off the floor and stood with his hand out. John accepted he may never get an answer but took his hand regardless and allowed himself to be led from the bathroom. They could hear the sounds of hurried footsteps running back to the sofa.
Molly, Greg and Irene were all shifting uneasily in their seats, readjusting to make themselves look as if they never moved. The fact that Audrey was now sleeping in Mycroft's lap was pretty good indication that they had listened in on their conversation.
"John?"
John turned around and faced him. He jumped slightly at the predatory look in the taller man's eyes. Sherlock put his hand on his shoulder and leaned in close to his ear.
"I liked it too much."