A/Note: I tried going in a different way on this last chapter. Hope you enjoy it!

6. A sack of potatoes

When they got home John went in first. They were almost at the top landing when suddenly he spun around and pushed Sherlock against the wall. He was still one step higher, so their faces were at the same level. He looked into Sherlock's eyes, touched his cheek lightly and kissed him. He was surprisingly gentle, minding Sherlock's bruised lip.

Sherlock felt like he was melting into a warm puddle. But too soon he started to pull away, jolting Sherlock awake from his trance. No, he didn't want the kiss to end. His arms flew around John and pulled him back for more, making their bodies crash against each other's and Sherlock's back, against the wall. He eagerly tried to kiss John again.

'Sherlock, your lip,' he protested, pushing himself away.

'I don't care.'

'But I do. The blood.'

'John, I'm clean if that's what you're worried about.'

'That's good to know, but I still don't like the taste of blood. Come on, let's go in.'

'John...'

'Please Sherlock, I feel a bit exposed here, let's go in.'

'You feel exposed? You started.'

John rolled his eyes, turning to the sitting room. Once inside, he closed both the sitting room and the kitchen doors, heading for the kettle.

'How can you possibly think of tea right at this very second?'

'I'm a bit nervous, to be honest.'

'Isn't that a bit late for that? You've already kissed me.'

'You may not have noticed, but this is a huge step for me.'

Sherlock approached John's back but hesitated to touch him. 'I take you're not interested in Mycroft then?'

John turned, his forehead all wrinkled, his mouth open. 'Mycroft? Where did you get that idea?'

'He's been hovering around you a lot lately, always whispering in your ear. The only reason I see for him to do that would be to take you away from me. He thinks you are my weakness. And you... you've been treating him differently. I saw both of you tonight. You were breathless and blushing to whatever he was saying to you.'

John blushed again and cast his eyes down.

'He's been insinuating himself onto you, most disgustingly. He even gave you the suit you're wearing tonight!'

'This? He said it was just a temporary loan, for the party, so I would fit in. He knows I don't have decent suits.'

'It's a gift, John. Mycroft knows how to use his charms when it's convenient to him.'

'And you don't?' John couldn't resist, amused that Sherlock could think such preposterous things.

'I only do it for cases. He doesn't have limits.'

John pulled a chair and motioned for Sherlock to sit also. 'No, Sherlock, he's not interested in me. This is embarrassing!' He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. 'He... he's been trying to push us together.'

Sherlock frowned and blinked. John looked at him, 'He said that I looked good in this suit and that you had liked it too, and-' he stopped, too embarrassed to continue.

'Yes, and...?'

'He... he said that you, eh, liked when I was, um, more assertive. That I should just try to grab you and kiss you.' John's face was red now. Now that he said it out loud, Mycroft's "advice" sounded even more absurd. Worse, he had taken it.

Sherlock's mouth fell open, how dare Mycroft say that to John? He felt flushed with embarrassment. Because his brother was right. Damn him!

'When I checked on you, I wanted to kiss you right then and there. But then Mycroft showed up and the moment was lost. As we rode home I couldn't stop thinking about it, though. I couldn't help myself. I had to.'

'I felt the same way when you were holding my chin.'

John felt his face burning. Just then the kettle whistled, so he jumped to his feet and made tea the way each of them liked it. This bought him some time, he wasn't sure of what to say or do next. Returning with the two mugs, he sat back down. 'So. Where do we go from here?'

'Where we've always been. Together.'

Both had the mugs close to their lips. They smiled and sipped.

'So... is he right, then? You liked when I grabbed you?' John smiled playfully.

'I'll never ever say Mycroft is right about anything,' Sherlock said sulkily. Then his face changed and he smiled into his mug. 'Not even you can make me.'

'Oh? Is that right?'

Sherlock sat his mug down on the table and leaned forward on his elbows. With the ghost of a smile, he dragged his words, 'I'd like to see you try.'

John gave a feral smile and moved faster than Sherlock thought possible.

The End

... for now.

A/Notes: And that was it, hope you liked it. As I said, this was meant to be lighter and fun.

When I publish, the story is written, and I just do a final-final-final-final-final editing before posting each chapter. I can't just make it up as I go along like some people seem to do. But... you've all been enjoying this story so much, giving me all sorts of fun reactions, that yesterday I had a kernel of an idea. If I can make it as fun as it sounds inside my head, I may end up adding to this story. So my apologies if it takes a while (and it is possible that it doesn't work and therefore, is not post-worthy). Sorry, I would never leave you guys hanging if I had had this idea before.

Until then, happy shipping! Thanks guys for following, favoriting and reviewing. You always make my day by doing so. You make fanfiction fun.