"Come on." Sherlock scoffed at the film. "It's obvious that Verbal is really Keyser Soze. This movie is completely predictable."
"Sherlock." John sighed. "You could at least wait until the opening credits are over before blurting out the ending. Debbie's never seen it before."
"Oh." Sherlock said flushing a bit. "Sorry. Was it not obvious to everyone?"
"It's fine." Debbie said a bit tightly. "I have to get up early for work tomorrow anyway. Sherlock, it was nice to meet you."
"You as well." Sherlock answered.
They watched her switch on the coffee pot before padding back to her bedroom. The minute she was out of eyesight John turned a raised eyebrow on his boyfriend.
"What?" Sherlock asked defensively. "I tried really hard."
"I know you did." John sighed. "But pointing out that Debbie was married before to a prat that drained her bank accounts and then ruining the end of a movie were a bit not good."
"She didn't dislike me." Sherlock answered.
"No." John said with a grin. "She didn't. I actually think she might have liked you."
"See." Sherlock said scooting closer. "I'm impossible to resist."
"Oh, yes." John giggled. "Impossible."
Sherlock kissed him hungrily dragging the shorter boy over to straddle his waist. The taller boy's breath hitched as John began licking and sucking on the skin just behind his left earlobe. He groaned into the kiss clutching at John's arse and pulling him closer until the shorter boy could barely breathe.
"Fuck." Sherlock panted. "An entire week. That was awful."
John hummed in agreement as he continued marking his boyfriend as his own. He gasped as Sherlock's growing hard-on brushed up against his own as the taller boy bucked lightly.
"Bedroom?" Sherlock purred seductively.
"Oh, fuck." John panted into Sherlock's shoulder. "My aunt's across the flat."
"Exactly." Sherlock said kneading John's arse. "All the way across the flat."
"Damn it." John said trying to regulate his breathing.
"What?" Sherlock asked, reaching into the shorter boys trousers to cup his arse.
"You can't stay over." John panted trying to think clearly through lust.
"Why not?" Sherlock asked leaning back to stare at John's flushed face.
"Flat rules." John answered sullenly.
"We'll go to mine then." Sherlock shrugged.
"I have a curfew." John said. "Flat rules."
"Curfew?" Sherlock asked as if the entire concept was completely new to him.
"I'll explain everything tomorrow." John sighed. "Would you please just take me to bed? And then you'll have to catch a taxi home."
Sherlock growled in frustration but motioned for John to lead on as they quickly made their way to his room. They fell into bed and took their time claiming each other's skin once more.
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"You could come, Sherlock." John said rolling his eyes.
"Football matches are incredibly dull." Sherlock whined.
"Exactly why I didn't invite you in the first place." John answered. "Your brother got me a pair of tickets for the holiday and I didn't think you'd want to go. So, I invited Lestrade up. Work on your experiments. It will only be a few hours."
"So why in bloody hell am I standing at the train depot at seven in the morning?" Sherlock whined.
"Hold on there, sunshine." John said nudging his grumpy boyfriend lightly. "You were the one who was determined to come with me this morning."
"I hadn't seen you all week." He grumbled.
"Because you were following some case in the paper." John answered. "And chasing after the Yarders. I was free all week."
"I couldn't just let them arrest the wrong person, John." Sherlock scoffed.
"I know." John said kissing him firmly on the lips; smiling into it as Sherlock wrapped his arms around the shorter boy and pulled him close.
"Bloody hell, don't you two ever give it a rest." Lestrade grumbled from behind them.
They broke apart and John pulled Lestrade into a hug before they hurried to a taxi. They stopped for breakfast at a little joint near the fields and John went to go place their order. The two boys sat staring out the window as they waited for John. Not surprisingly, they had very little in common except for John of course. They'd only met a few times over the past few months. Mostly in passing when Lestrade came to visit John.
"So, Sherlock." Lestrade began awkwardly. "How are things?"
"Fine." Sherlock answered. "And you?"
"Just fine." Lestrade answered. "Excited about the match. John said you're not coming?"
"No." Sherlock replied. "I really don't have any interest in it."
"Oh, right." Lestrade answered.
"You've known John a long time." Sherlock said out of the blue.
"Yeah," Lestrade answered. "He's my best mate."
"What was his father like?" Sherlock asked.
Lestrade leaned back in his chair and stared at the genius. "Why do you want to know?"
"I'm just gathering facts." Sherlock shrugged. "John doesn't talk about him and I want to know."
"Take it from me, mate." Lestrade said. "Don't ask. John doesn't like to talk about it and I'm certainly not going to indulge your curiosity if he hasn't shared it with you."
"You won't tell me anything?" Sherlock huffed.
"Let's just say that my father picked him up enough from the bars for me to know that he was a mean drunk who wasn't particularly loving." Lestrade said quietly. "John tried hard to get that complete jackass to care about him, but it never took and John never stopped trying."
"Oh." Sherlock said filing this information away in his head.
"By the way," Lestrade said firmly. "I'm sure you've heard this from everyone but if you put him through what you did last year…"
"I won't." Sherlock cut him off firmly.
The conversation ended abruptly as John returned with their food. They tucked in and ate quickly. John and Lestrade left for the match and Sherlock returned back to his brother's house. The match was anticlimactic but the boys had a good time. They were filing out of the stadium when John asked about Lestrade's plans after graduation.
"I'm thinking of joining the police academy." Lestrade shrugged.
"And be a police officer?" John asked.
"Yeah," Lestrade answered. "But more likely a detective, I want to move to London and work here."
"That's brilliant," John answered.
"What about you?" Lestrade asked.
"University, hopefully." John shrugged. "I kinda want to be a doctor."
"Shit, John." Lestrade laughed. "You'll be a brilliant doctor."
"I hope so." John replied.
"And what about Sherlock?" Lestrade asked curiously.
"He'll probably go to University." John shrugged. "He's got the brain for it. But mostly he just wants to solve puzzles all day. He spends most of his free time experimenting and reading the crime section of the paper."
"And things are going well?" Lestrade asked hesitantly.
"Did my mum put you up to that question?" John said punching him lightly in the shoulder.
"She's still not fond of him, then?" Lestrade asked.
"Not really." John said. "Something about motherly instincts and first impressions."
"Well, you can't really blame her." He answered.
"I know." John replied. "But things are great. Brilliant, even."
"Well, I'm glad for you then." He said.
"Thanks." John smiled. "Want to grab some supper?"
"Yeah," Lestrade answered. "I'm starved."
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John saw Lestrade off before catching the Tube to Sherlock's house. It was only six o'clock and his curfew was one in the morning and he wanted to spend time with his boyfriend. It had been a pretty quiet week without Sherlock around but John couldn't really be all that upset about it. The cases made Sherlock so happy. Solving them was like a special kind of adrenaline rush for the genius. He waited on the steps after ringing the bell and was greeted by Mycroft.
"Hello, John." Mycroft said happily. "How was the match?"
"Brilliant." John answered. "Thanks again for the tickets. The seats were amazing."
"I'm glad you liked them." The taller man answered. "Sherlock's upstairs. I would recommend ordering in for dinner. We have nothing in the fridge currently."
"Are you heading out?" John asked taking in the waistcoat and umbrella.
"State dinner." Mycroft answered.
"Have fun." John said.
"They are hardly ever fun." Mycroft said. "But they are incredibly informative. You can learn the most fascinating things about a person by the way they hold their fork."
"I'll keep that in mind." John smiled.
"See that you do." Mycroft smiled back. "Goodbye, John."
"Goodbye." He answered.
He ran quickly up the stairs and walked into his boyfriend's hazard area of a bedroom. Mycroft had actually set aside a whole other room in the house for Sherlock's experiments but the genius had declared that he much preferred his work close by and had flatly refused to use it. So, his bedroom was full of detritus, mold, a variety of knives, an extensive chemistry set, and, of course, the skull. John grinned as he caught Sherlock leaned over his chemistry set making some incoherent scratches in a notebook while wearing safety goggles.
"Did you enjoy your lasagna?" Sherlock asked barely glancing up.
"Go on," John said. "I know you want to explain exactly how you knew that."
"Elementary, John." Sherlock answered. "Let me finish adding this catalyst. Do you mind waiting in the hall?"
"No problem." John replied. "I'll just be watching telly."
"Thank you." Sherlock said waving him away.
John wandered down the hallway to the living area and plopped down on the sofa grabbing the remote. Sherlock had explained a few months ago that John's presence was incredibly distracting when he was trying to work. At first, John had been a bit offended, but after explaining why exactly he was having trouble focusing, the blond was more flattered than anything else. He drifted off to sleep as he waited for his genius to finish working. He was roused later by Sherlock pressing a few light kisses against his temple. He reached out and pulled the genius down on top of him. They snogged lazily for several minutes before they settled facing each other on the sofa and John smiled as Sherlock explained the particulars of the case from the past week. They whispered back and forth like the information was a precious secret just for the two of them. Sherlock's eyes blazed with excitement as he told John about his deductions and conclusions. He mocked the Yarders and made John giggle as he did impressions.
"It's marvelous, John." Sherlock whispered. "I've never felt more engaged in a puzzle before than when I'm picking apart the motivations and facts of a case. It's like my brain is running a thousand miles an hour and everything is crystal clear."
"I'm glad." John whispered back, running his hand through Sherlock's unruly curls. "I'm so glad."
"I hope you know…" Sherlock said hesitantly. "I just get so focused sometimes…I'm not forgetting about you…"
"Sherlock," John said with a grin. "It's fine. It's all fine. I'm glad you found something that you love doing."
"I do." Sherlock said. "I love it."
John placed a light kiss on the corner of Sherlock mouth before answering, "Then don't stop."
Sherlock dragged him back for a heated kiss before shifting John to lie on his back as the taller boy slithered down and ran a hand roughly over John's slowing rising hard-on.
"Oh, god." John breathed. Sherlock smirked in reply and took care of John's trousers and pants quickly. John's hips jerked as Sherlock licked a wet line up his cock. Sherlock licked and sucked over and over causing John to break out in a hot sweat and begin writhing against the couch with abandon. He was getting so close. He could feel the heat in his gut as Sherlock took him in deep and swirled that delicious tongue against his slit. He was moaning in pleasure as Sherlock licked one more time before taking him in hand pumping firmly and crawling up to whisper in John's ear.
"You have to know, John." He purred. "That I love you. I love you so much."
John felt his mind turn white as his hips jerked and he came in four hard pulses. John's hands were shaking when he pulled his boyfriend close and kissed him passionately. "I love you too. Fuck, Sherlock. I love you."
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