John straddles Sherlock on the couch, their hands locked on the paper smashed between them. John's lips are an inch from Sherlock's, and John can feel the low, calm breathing of the man below him.
Several minutes earlier…
"Sherlock, did you grab the post?" John called as he entered the flat behind his partner.
Sherlock didn't respond, not even a grunt, he merely swept into his bedroom and the door closed loudly behind him.
"I'll take that as a no," he muttered, turning back down the stairs. When he made it to the front door and leaned out, lifted the lid on the post-box, it was empty.
He let it fall and trumped back up the stairs.
At Sherlock's door, he pounded a closed fist against the painted wood. "Sherlock!" he called, "What have you done with the post?"
There was no reply. He tried the doorknob, but it was locked—which was strange. Either Sherlock was out or asleep, the only other times he was in his room was changing clothes and he mostly just left the door open for that.
"Goddamn it, Sherlock, give me my post."
The door swung open and Sherlock quickly pushed pass John in the direction of the lounge. John followed and Sherlock stopped beside the couch, holding a piece of paper in his hand tightly. His knuckles were white, and he held it in John's direction—not to offer it up, not at all, but to accuse and question.
"Do you always read my letters?" John asked.
Sherlock rolled his eyes, managing to look bored even during their stand-off. "Only when it pertains to me or I have nothing better to do. This was the former, was it not?"
John didn't answer. He shuffled his feet nervously and balled his fists at his sides. After uncomfortably clearing his throat, he mumbled, "Are you gonna give it to me or not?"
"Not," Sherlock spoke without hesitation. "Unless you intend to explain."
And even though John thought it a long-shot, he lunged for the paper.
The moments between when John went for the paper and when he and Sherlock ended up in the compromising position on the couch were a little hazy, to both of them.
They're so close, John would need only shift his weight fractionally and their lips would touch.
Instead, he sits up on top of Sherlock. "Give it," he says.
Sherlock shakes his head once, has no intention of letting it go. But neither of them is really considering letting it tear, so John's the first to release his grip.
"Why does it matter?" he asks loudly.
"Because it does," Sherlock says after a moment's hesitation.
"You don't know, do you? You just want to pry into my life."
"I didn't say that," Sherlock rebuffs.
"No, you said you only read my post if it pertains to you—and this doesn't."
"One, I said if it pertains to me or if I have nothing better to do; and two, I think it does."
John sighs, and suddenly remembers where they are and what they're doing.
"Are you going to get up anytime soon? Because I would like to return to my room if you're not going to explain yourself," Sherlock says.
But John's not giving up that easily, either. "No, I think I'll just stay right here until you give me the letter."
"Suit yourself," Sherlock says with a mild smirk, looking directly into John's eyes.
The eye contact is so intense, it should just make the situation more…awkward. But it's not just eye contact, it's a challenge. The stand-off continues, both of them with hands at their gun belts.
Sherlock knows John will give first, but he's enjoying the fight the good doctor is putting up. And even though he knows all he needs to know—the letter was rather self-explanatory—it doesn't mean he wouldn't like to hear it from John directly. He's been wrong in the past. Very rarely, but this is one of those matters where he doesn't immediately trust his first instinct—an intellectual gray area for him, and only John can clear the air.
John sighs, and Sherlock fights another smirk. He wants John to confess, not be angry.
"It began not long after Baskerville…"
A/N: This fic is pretty vague, and I apologize. In my head, this was a letter from Harry, John's sister, and it may have discussed John possibly having feelings for Sherlock. In my head, there's always been a little something between the two respective halves of my current OTP, Johnlock, but that it wasn't really tangible until season 2, at least. I think it may have even been there as early as 'Belgravia', but end of 'Baskerville' seemed a natural point for John to realize it. On a separate note, I sometimes am scared (and a little too happy) that I can hear our dear Sherlock's voice so well in my head. I'm not necessarily talking mannerisms or anything quite so complicated, I'm literally talking about Benedict's actual voice. Oi, that voice. I need help. Review?