'Sherlock?' John whispered, as he knocked on the closed door to his friend's room.
When there was no response, he knocked again, more briskly. 'Sherlock?'
He heard a sigh, and something shuffling around inside.
'Come in' Sherlock said, a tiny voice compared to his usual tone.
John twisted the handle and found it unlocked. He slowly opened the door, and found his best friend curled up in a ball on the double bed in the middle of the room. Sleeping next to him was the ill rabbit, a thermometer and a bandage proving that Sherlock had been checking on how he was progressing so far.
'How is he?' John asked, positioning himself on the edge of the bed, and stroking the little ball of fluff.
'Won't make it through the night' came the response, and a big sigh was what resulted. 'Nothing I can do.'
John paused, stroking his hand through his hair.
'Sherlock, I know I was a bit forward, but I don't want our friendship to be ruined, and we can forget all about it, I won't bring it up or act on it ever again, can we just go back to normal?'
Sherlock rolled over, meeting John's gaze.
'No. It wouldn't ever go back to normal.' He said, his eyes almost brimming with tears. 'It's my fault, we kissed and now you want to go back but we can't. It won't ever be the same. And now we're here, and you'll leave me, and then I'll be alone again.' Sherlock shouted, now forcefully wiping his tear stained face.
John stood, and cupped his friends face with both of his hands. 'Sherlock' he said, seriously. 'I don't want to go back, I thought you did. I don't want it to be the same. It will be better, I swear. And I will never, ever leave you, okay? And I won't break that promise till the day I die.'
Sherlock stood, staring at John.
He slowly leant forward, and pressed his lips against John's, more urgently than the last time.
John responded in full, slowly opening his mouth to allow entrance for Sherlock's investigating tongue.
Sherlock could taste tea and biscuits on John, and it made him feel even more at home. He slowly pushed him onto the bed, and sat down next to him, making sure they were both comfortable.
Sherlock's lips travelled from John's of their own accord, to his neck. John didn't attempt to supress a moan, and Sherlock couldn't help but smile that it was him that had made him produce that noise.
He did it again with more force, trying to leave a mark. John realised what he was doing far too late.
'Shit, Sherlock!' he groaned, looking in the nearby mirror at the fresh red marks that were already bruising on his neck. 'We're going back to college soon, and you know the uniforms don't hide that much!' he rolled his eyes and fell back onto the bed, sighing.
Sherlock smirked. 'Exactly' he said. 'You're mine, and everyone needs to know it'.
John gasped at how upfront Sherlock was, and how quickly everything was happening. Two kisses, and they were now 'each other's', apparently.
Sherlock saw the hesitance in his eyes, and backed up a bit, allowing John to breathe. 'I mean, if you want to, sorry, I didn't mean too… I can just…' John stopped his words with a kiss.
'Just give me a minute okay? I knew this was never going to be slow or simple, so just give me a second to get my head around it, I'm not rejecting you, before you make that deduction' John finished, smiling.
Before either of them could speak again, a bell rang and a shout from downstairs was heard 'DINNER MR HOLMES, MR LESTRADE, SHERLOCK, JOHN!' Mrs. Hudson shouted, before retreating back to her study.
'why they get to be mister's and we don't, beats me' John chuckled, pulling his friend up from the bed before giving him a quick final kiss, and exiting the room to make their way down the winding stairs.
'Let's not tell your brother or Greg today, yeah?' John asked.
'Oh, John. You know as well as I that Greg sent you to talk to me, and Myc can tell what we have been doing for the last few minutes from a mile away, but don't worry too much, he won't have the nerve to say anything straight away' Sherlock replied, grinning.
They entered the dining room, to find Greg and Mycroft in deep conversation on the far end of the table. As John and Sherlock walked in, they raised their heads, halting what they were saying.
John nervously smiled, and Sherlock scowled, throwing himself onto the nearest chair.
Greg's smile didn't falter, and he was about to continue the talk when he noticed Mycroft's expression. His eyebrows were raised and he was staring at Sherlock, who had decided to wipe his lips on the back of his sleeve a few times.
He could feel his lover tensing and he knew exactly why.
John and Sherlock had just walked in like two naughty schoolboys being caught in the act, and Myc was killing himself trying not to make a sarcastic comment, or just burst out laughing.
Greg found himself staring at the obvious signs, and when the food was finally bought in, you could cut the tension with a knife.
Mycroft couldn't control himself any longer. He knew that Sherlock had chosen John for some purpose, if only subconsciously. He didn't think he would have actually chosen him to be his lover.
'Not engaged yet then, boys?' he chuckled, winking at John.
'I hate you' Sherlock replied, as John blushed, and slammed his head and arms down onto the table in response to hide his uncontainable grin.