After jogging a little to catch up to his flatmate turned boyfriend, John chuckles a little. "You know, I didn't learn nearly as much about you during this trip as I hoped." He muses thoughtfully as he smirks over at Sherlock. "Maybe later you'll tell me some more stories from your childhood." he says hopefully as he walks beside the taller man. He does fall behind a bit on the stairs, but suddenly he's ok with that as he remembers how well Sherlock's jeans fit him.
The jeans, good God, the jeans. John licks his lips a little as he admires Sherlock from behind, those long, denim-clad legs and a curvy behind. He smirks a little, thinking about that for a few moments. He's always been a leg man. It seems that every man has their preference. Legs, arse, breasts, face. John likes all of these things of course, but when he sees a woman who just has a stunning pair of legs, or a certain sway to her hips, he just can't help himself. Most women seem to appreciate this a little more than men staring at their breasts. They like to show off their legs, and there's so many little tantalizing glimpses they can give without being immodest.
So it really should be no surprise that when Dr. John H. Watson gets interested and involved with a man it's with one that has long legs, graceful movements, and a certain confident strut that the doctor is just now starting to appreciate to its fullest.
"John. Are you quite done staring at my back side?" Sherlock interrupts these thoughts at the bottom of the stairs, glancing back at the doctor who is a few stairs behind him. Though he sounds normal with his bored and slightly exasperated tone, there's a light in his eyes and a slight upturn to the corner of his lips that's barely detectable, that shows he's more amused than exasperated.
For a few long moments, the former army doctor considers whether or not he's done, for a few moments, then he tears his eyes up to Sherlock's face. "Mmm. I suppose so. You do have a rather fantastic one, now that I look at it. And I'm sure you've already deduced how I feel about a long pair of legs." He says with a little smirk. And, knowing where he is now, John walks with a confident stride toward the door where Charles, somehow miraculously getting there before them, has Sherlock's coat and scarf over his arm.
Not one to be outdone, Sherlock smirks in earnest this time, following the man and chuckling softly. "Yes, I have noticed your penchant for admiring legs." He sounds amused, getting his scarf and coat from Charles, thanking him before he follows John out. Before they can get off the little porch though, Sherlock grabs John by the shoulder with one hand. "Wait." he says quietly, and in a moment he's suddenly up quite close behind his doctor, trying to hide a smirk as he puts both hands on John's waist. "There's a matter we need to settle first.." He murmurs into the older man's ear, letting his voice drop to a lower tone, quite satisfied when he feels the other man shudder slightly.
Hearing the hitch in the other man's breathing, Sherlock smirks a little, sliding one hand down along his side toward his hip, pulling the edge of his jacket back so his hand can tease along the edge of his jeans, before Sherlock slowly slides his long fingers into John's pocket, only to-
- pull out his phone.
And of course once he has the phone in hand, Sherlock straightens, and is suddenly back to his normal self. "Thank you, John." He says before he moves forward and slips into the car.
A little dazed and slightly dizzy, John stands there for a few moments as he tries to figure out just what happened to him. He takes a few deep breaths and then shakes his head. "Bloody hell.." he mutters, running a hand through his short hair - he really needs a trim - before he starts to get a little annoyed. How dare Sherlock tease him like that, deliberately, knowing what it would do to John, only to get his phone back? Oh, that is so not going to happen, if the former soldier lets his detective get away with it this time, then he's going to get worse and probably get utterly insufferable.
A mop of dark hair followed by a certain man's upturned face appears at the car door, frowning at John. "Are you coming, or are you going to stand there all afternoon?" he asks, a little annoyed before he slips back again.
With renewed determination, John balls his hands into fists and steps forward, slipping stiffly into the car and waiting as it starts off, making sure the divider between passenger and driver is up, and then waiting for his genius boyfriend to get a clue.
It apparently doesn't take long for Sherlock to figure something is up, he finished going through the two or three messages he has, then goes to put his phone away when he glances at John. Back stiff, shoulders back, hands in fists on his thighs, staring straight ahead. John is upset. Why would John be upset? Sherlock tries to think of anything that he did wrong, or that might be deemed socially unacceptable enough to upset John in the last little while. And he comes up with nothing. He did a little flirting, he took his phone back.. Was John angry that the detective reclaimed his phone before they were in the car? Surely not, it was only two feet away.
In these types of cases, Sherlock knows that there's only one thing he can do, and that is to ask what he's done wrong. However, he now has different avenues open to him as to /how/ to ask. And so he devises a plan, slowly sliding over until he's sitting close to John, turning a little and sliding one arm around the older man's shoulders, hand dangling down his chest, while the other slips up under John's arm to press against the doctor's chest. He leans in, placing a soft kiss on John's neck just below the ear. "John?" He asks tentatively. "John.. what did I do wrong? Won't you tell me why you're mad?" he asks softly, placing another soft, loving, somewhat chaste kiss on John's neck.
And who in their right mind could stay all angry when faced with such a cuddly detective? Well, apparently John has more of an iron will than he thought, because it kind of just makes him more angry. "I don't like being manipulated, Sherlock." He manages to say, not melting into the man like he so badly wants to, keeping his head straight ahead, and even managing to pull away from Sherlock's kiss.
More than a little surprised, Sherlock looks like he's been slapped. "Manipulated?" He asks, leaning back a little in surprise as he looks at John. "I wasn't.. manipulating you, John..." He says in concern, starting to feeling a little panicky. He knew he might screw this up, and there was a good probability of it of course. He just figured that when it happened, he would know exactly what he did, and exactly why John was leaving him. But now he's just confused and a confused Sherlock is not a good thing.
"John.. please tell me what I did wrong, I won't do it again." Sherlock promises with desperation in his tone, his brilliant mind of course rushing forward to what he perceives as the inevitable conclusion, which is the end of this relationship before it begins, and the loss of John. Shifting a little, he refuses to let go of John, but now both his arms wrap around the older man's waist, as he buries his face in the back of his shoulder, breath hitching a little as he tries not to have a panic attack.
The sound in Sherlock's normally smooth voice, the shock and fear is what John responds to, the Doctor in him concerned since that is not something he is used to hearing in the younger man's voice. His anger abandoned for a moment, he puts his hands over Sherlock's arms. "Hey.." He says in a more soothing tone, though not all of the anger has drained from his body. He rubs one of Sherlock's arms gently. "What's going on in that brilliant mind of yours?" he asks gently, not able to see the younger man's face with how he's hiding. "I need you to look at me, Sherlock." he says in a firmer tone.
Squeezing his flatmate for a few moments and afraid it might be for the last time, Sherlock finally loosens his hold, and releases John extremely reluctantly, sitting back a little and putting a little space between them. He clasps his hands together in his lap, eyebrows drawn together a little in confusion as he stares at the floor, once again trying to figure out what might have caused John to be so angry. And he hasn't fully suppressed his panic attack either, breathing a little faster and he knows his heart is trying to pound out of his chest.
John watches his fragile detective for a few moments, before he turns toward him, lifting one hand to reach out and cup Sherlock's cheek and tilt his head up so he can look into those brilliant eyes. "Oh, Sherlock." He says with a little sigh. And really, how can he stay angry at the man when he's so clearly distressed? Frankly, the doctor could not stay mad at him in the first place, that's why even if he went out for some 'air', he always came back, no matter what it was Sherlock did. Leaning forward a little, he gives the man's lips a soft, chaste kiss before he watches him. "I'm not going anywhere, Sherlock." he says softly in a reassuring tone. "But we do need to talk about this." he says in a serious tone, watching him. "What you did earlier, to get your phone back from me." he says, watching as realization starts to dawn on that beautiful face. He keeps one hand on the other's face, his free hand reaching out to take one of Sherlock's in his.
"The things you did, very seductive and somewhat nice things, just to get your phone back.. were a Bit Not Good." John says as he watches the other man. "No, don't say anything yet." he says, putting his thumb over Sherlock's lips, stroking across softly for a moment. "Just listen." The doctor says in a firm tone, waiting until he understands, before he says, "If we were at home, in Baker Street, and you did those things, those very suggestive things, just because you wanted to, because you were feeling affectionate, or randy or whatever, that's fine. But you did it to manipulate me, so I wouldn't stop you from getting your phone back because I thought you were going to do something else. Do you understand the difference?" He uses a firm tone of voice, speaking slowly and deliberately as he looks into Sherlock's eyes.
And of course that brain, that brilliant, genius brain, takes everything in, turns it over and tries very hard to focus on John. When he finally turns the words around at the right angle, it clicks in Sherlock's brain, and he frowns a little, then drops his eyes, ashamed. "I didn't mean to make you feel manipulated, John." he finally says quietly. "I was attempting to be playful. I could not have predicted this reaction." he says with a little sigh, frustrated with himself.
Sighing a little, John shakes his head, before he laughs lightly and smiles. "You idiot." He says before he reaches out, slipping his arms around Sherlock and pulling the younger man close, folding his arms around him. "It's alright, Sherlock. This is normal, in relationships, believe it or not." he says quietly, stroking one hand through the detective's hair slowly, trying to soothe him, taking a few deep breaths. "It's ok. This is going to happen. We're still going to fight, just about different things. I will get angry. We talked about this. I will get angry, I will leave the flat, to get air or do the shopping, or whatever. But I will always come back, we will always talk about it, and we'll work it out." He reassures, leaning down to finally give the younger man a slow, lazy, reassuring kiss, his free hand sliding inside Sherlock's coat to slip around his body.
By degrees, the lean body that John has his arms around starts to relax. Sherlock responds to the kisses in kind, resting his forehead against John's briefly before he nestles it down on John's shoulder, nose brushing against the older man's neck, and he takes a slow, deep breath, allowing his arms to sneak around John's body. "It will be difficult for me, John. I... I'm afraid of losing you." He whispers softly, taking a deep breath. "Ever since the pool, I've been afraid of that." he whispers, placing another soft kiss on John's neck, clinging to him a little.
Miraculously, John has no more anger in him, only affection for the man in his arms. Shuffling around for a moment, he leans back against the door and pulls Sherlock close to him, making it a little more comfortable. "You won't lose me, Sherlock." He reassures, kissing the top of the man's head affectionately, his other hand rubbing the lean back slowly. "Come on, now. When we get back to Baker Street, everything will be better. You'll see.." he reassures quietly.
Nodding a little again, Sherlock smiles as they rearrange themselves so that he's laying a bit more on his doctor, appreciating the gesture. He places a few soft kisses on John's neck before he nuzzles down against him and relaxes. "I'm going to stay here for a little bit." he decides as he gets comfortable against the other man.
A small chuckle goes through John and he nods a little.
"Stay as long as you like, Sherlock. All the way back to Baker Street. I'm not going anywhere."
Aaaaannnd that's it, folks! That is the end of my Christmas story. I have a ton of ideas for a sequel though, so don't worry! I will have something up tomorrow, and hopefully I will be able to update here and let you all know what my new story name is, etc. I seriously struggle with names, and apparently have a thing for alliteration if my one-shot titles are anything to go by.
Thank you all so, so much for all your favorites/follows! The response to this story has been so much more than I ever hoped for when I posted it. Thank you all so much!
As always, reviews/comments welcome!