"You can't be serious." John said firmly.
"On the contrary," Sherlock countered. "I'm very serious."
"I'm not going to do that, Sherlock." John answered. "Never. No matter how many times you ask me. I will never do that."
"I don't see how we can make this work if you are going to be such a complete child, John." Sherlock replied.
"I'm the child?" John said angrily. "You're saying that in this scenario, I'm the one acting like a child."
"Yes." Sherlock answered. "You need to live a little."
"You're saying I'm boring, then?" John asked.
"If the shoe fits…" Sherlock answered.
"I can't believe you're making me do this." John said sighing. "I feel so used."
"Don't whine, John." Sherlock said. "I couldn't pull this off by myself and you're my only option."
"Thanks, I feel flattered." John answered.
"You're welcome." Sherlock said. "Now do what I told you to."
John hung up the phone and turned to put on his trainers. He glanced down at the letters Sherlock had slipped into his work kit before he left the house that day. He'd called Sherlock the second he'd found them and had been told exactly what he was supposed to do with the missives. He felt like such a prat. He'd no idea why he was encouraging this awful behavior from his boyfriend. It was stupid and, based on John's instinct, incredibly dangerous. He'd wanted no part of it because if this little plan of Sherlock's was traced back to him, he knew that he would be on the receiving end of some serious trouble.
John walked quickly to the end of the block and dropped the bundle into the postal box with a clunk. He glanced around to see if he was being watched at all and made his way quickly back home throwing the lock behind him. He crawled into bed and felt anxiety skitter along his skin before falling asleep and having awful dreams about being chased by rabid honeybadgers.
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He was screwing in the final bolt to the new shelves in the pantry when he felt strong arms wrap around his waist and feathery kisses press lightly against the nape of his neck. He turned his wrist a few more times before dropping the screwdriver on his work kit and turning in Sherlock's arms placing a deep kiss onto his boyfriend's lips. They kissed lazily for several minutes before John pulled back and the genius took stock of the shorter boy's facial expression.
"You disapprove." Sherlock said simply.
"Well deduced." John said firmly rubbing small circles on either side of his boyfriend's hips.
"Why?" Sherlock asked curiously.
"You might break up with me when I say this," John shrugged. "But I actually like your brother and having 20 porn magazine subscriptions sent to his office is a bit not good."
"He was annoying me." Sherlock shrugged kissing down John's neck.
"That's fine." John said leaning into the caresses. "But leave me out of it. I don't want the whole of the British government tracing this back to me."
"Don't worry, John." Sherlock purred. "I'll make it up to you."
Sherlock traced the line of skin that peeked out where his shirt met trousers causing a shiver to jump up John's spine before he pulled away and placed a light kiss on the corner of Sherlock's mouth.
"You are going to get me fired." John giggled. "I do actually work here, you know."
"It is extremely convenient having you so close." Sherlock purred working a finger into the waistline of John's trousers.
"Stop it." John said pushing him back a little more. "Or you're going to make me come right here. I have to finish these shelves and then patch up some walls in the hallway."
"Are you saying you want me to leave you alone?" Sherlock pouted.
"Hell no." John answered. "But you can't distract me with that hot arse of yours. Why don't you fill me in on your latest experiments?"
They talked for hours while John worked. Sherlock even deigned to hold the bucket of spackle for him. Sherlock filled him in on recently completed experiments and the other new theories he had. They talked about the upcoming fall and how often John would come over to the Manor. Sherlock demanded every day and John thought that was a perfectly acceptable compromise. Sherlock asked John if he could measure skull and John agreed on the condition that it be completed after Sherlock ate an entire meal. John was washing up when Sherlock asked him when he was leaving for London.
"Not for another two weeks." John replied. "You ask me that every day. Do you expect the answer to change or something?"
"I would prefer that it did." Sherlock pouted.
"And how would you like it to change exactly?" John asked.
"I'm waiting for you to tell me that you're not going to leave me here for a week by myself." Sherlock whined.
"You'll be fine." John laughed. "You lived for almost sixteen years without me. You can make it a week."
"But I'll be so bored." Sherlock continued. "What will I do for 168 hours with you?"
"I imagine that at least a third of that will be filled with sleeping." John answered. "Or at least I hope it will be."
"Sleeping's boring." Sherlock answered.
"But necessary." John said. "And you'll have your experiments. You could even help Mrs. Hudson out while I'm gone. You watched me mow the lawn enough; you'll probably be an expert."
Sherlock scoffed and rested his head against the wall. "It's going to be so awful."
"You're such a drama queen." John answered.
"Am not." Sherlock complained.
"Are too, you gorgeous arse." John smiled before he realized exactly what had fallen out of his mouth.
"Really?" Sherlock purred, turning his sulky slump against the wall into a sultry pose showing off his lean features and wonderful arse. "Gorgeous?"
John flushed a bright, unforgiving red before turning back to his work. "Shut up."
"I think I would prefer to hear more." Sherlock said silkily leaning in toward John and running one of his hands over the shorter boy's back all the way to the curve of his arse and squeezing lightly.
"I hate you." John muttered.
"I highly doubt that." Sherlock said crowding closer and kissing the sensitive skin just below John's earlobe.
"Yes, I do." John said brokenly.
"I would be willing to bet my skull that you, in fact, do not hate me at all." Sherlock continued. "I would go so far as to say that you like me."
John swallowed heavily before placing his tools on the nearby table and murmuring slowly, "Right."
He moved quickly, pinning the taller boy against the wall before sucking and kissing roughly on Sherlock's neck becoming rougher as Sherlock began moaning and writhing against him. He let his hands roam freely running over Sherlock's hips, back, arse, even palming his crotch. He smiled smugly as Sherlock's desperate gasps became more and more frequent.
"You are, you know." John said feeling much braver now that he didn't have to look into those piercing eyes. It was easier to be honest when his words were interrupted by placing kisses and bites on the taller boy's skin. "You're gorgeous and brilliant and amazing. I could…god, Sherlock…I could do this forever."
"I could too." Sherlock gasped quietly causing jolts of fiery joy to rush through the blond. He pulled back to look into the pleasure-hazed eyes of the genius and tried to deduce the way Sherlock would. But he just wasn't as clever so Sherlock had to solve the riddle for him. His whole body tingled as Sherlock ran a hand lightly over his cheek. "Honestly, John. Forever."
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Sherlock pulled John into a deep kiss goodbye before wandering back up the stairs to his room. He opened his laptop to check on some facts regarding a recent theory that he wanted to experiment with. He let the grin that had been fighting for dominance on his face all afternoon free in the privacy of his own room. He was working steadily for close to an hour when his IM pinged.
Jim: Got a new supply in. You interested?
SH: Fuck off.
Jim: What's wrong? Feeling a bit frustrated?
SH: I'm not talking to you.
Jim: Funny. Kinda seems like you are.
SH: I will no longer be requiring your services. Take me off your contact list.
Jim: Oh, please. Do you honestly believe that you'll never need drugs again?
SH: Yes.
Jim: That's hilarious. I don't think you'll last a month.
SH: I don't really care what you think.
Jim: Sure you do. You need me.
SH: I've never needed you for anything, ever.
Jim: Have it your way, Sherlock. Be delusional if you want. But just know that I'll be around once you face reality and want to come crawling back.
SH: Don't hold your breath.
Jim: You forget that I know you. Everything about you. I know that you'll get bored. You'll want excitement. And that's where I come in. You have my number when you need me.
Jim Signed Out.
Sherlock threw himself away from his desk and began pacing back and forth across his room feeling rage burn through his system. Jim was wrong. Sherlock didn't need drugs. He was fine. He was doing fine. He had cravings every now and then but that was normal. He was smart enough to deal with them. He was a fucking genius. He just had to stay busy. Stay focused on other things. How dare that maniac try to imply that he wasn't intelligent enough to deal with a simple drug addiction. That's child's play. He's not like other people. He's so much better. He's not addicted. He never was. He's choosing not to take drugs. That's all.
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"Mum?" John asked hesitantly. He'd found her on the couch watching telly when he'd gotten home that night.
"Yes?" She asked glancing at him with a small smile.
"Can I talk to you about something?" He said feeling a chill of anxiety spread over his skin.
"Of course." She said. "Come sit and let's talk."
"Okay." He said perching on the edge of the couch turning to face her.
"What's on your mind, sweetie?" She asked.
"I just…I feel like I need to…tell you about something." John said hurriedly.
"Are you alright?" She asked running a soothing hand on his back.
"I, um…I'm sort of dating someone." He said feeling a blush creep up his cheeks.
"Oh." She said quietly. "Do you like her?"
"It's not a…her, Mum." He whispered quietly.
"Oh, sweetie." She said pulling him close into a reassuring hug.
"You're not mad?" John asked.
"Of course not!" She said squeezing him a little tighter. "I love you, John. I love everything about you. Every part of you."
John relaxed into her grip and clung to her. "I just know that with Harry…"
"It's not quite the same situation is it, though?" She said. "I love you both for everything that you are. But finding your sister drunk, making out with someone in my bed was probably not the best introduction to your child's romantic attachments."
"So, you're not mad?" He asked.
"Of course not." She said, pulling away to look into his eyes. "I want you to be happy."
"I am." He said. "He's brilliant, Mum. I think I…well, I really like him."
Something John couldn't quite identify flashed over his mother's face before she smiled again. "Well, you're young, John. Protect your heart a bit, okay?"
He frowned a little but at the genuine concern on his mother's face, he just nodded and let her pull him close again.
"I love you so much, John." She murmured as she stroked his hair. "I only ever want what's best for you. You know that, right?"
"Of course." He answered. "I love you too."
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Once again, I have to acknowledge the brilliance and awesomeness of my readers. You guys are so great and I am so happy that you are liking the story!