A/Note: Thanks Night of StarClan for favoriting my story and all of you who've been following it. Thanks for the reviews. People, do not despair. Keep calm and carry on reading Johnlock.

I'm not sure if I successfully kept them in character in this chapter. If I didn't, sorry! Please let me know.

Enjoy a longer chapter after yesterday's short buzzkill!

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16. Access implies intimacy

'Thanks for letting me come over,' John said, eyes darting around, not really fixing on Sherlock for long. 'My parents are at work, but Harry has been home a lot lately. New Year's resolution, I guess. I just hope it sticks.'

'There's no one home, we can talk freely.'

John looked around. 'Your house is so' he paused, casting for an appropriate word to describe it, 'normal.'

Sherlock puzzled, 'What did you expect?'

'I don't know, just nothing as uh, ordinary as this.'

'I know,' Sherlock rolled his eyes in agreement, as if being "normal" and "ordinary" was regrettable. He gestured towards the sofa but thought best to keep his distance for now, until he knew what John had to say. He settled for the armchair across the sofa, bracing his elbows against the armrests and fingertips touching in front of his face, bracing himself for what was to come. Surely a rejection.

John sat down looking everywhere but at Sherlock.

He clicked his tongue, 'John, look at me.' When he got his full attention, Sherlock spoke in his most neutral tone, trying not to sound whiny. 'It's been three days. Three days waiting for you to call.'

'I know. I'm sorry. I just had to sort my head first.'

Sherlock remained silent, waiting, heart pounding.

'You have to understand, this was very confusing to me. That was a first for me, you know?'

He frowned. First? What about Allan?

John took a deep breath. 'Well, I'll be honest with you. Remember Allan, the last rugby captain?'

Sherlock nodded. All this time he wanted to know what had happened between the two of them. Now he wasn't sure he wanted to hear it.

'Well, he and I eh, fooled around. I mean, we kissed. He touched me.'

'By "touch" you mean?'

John was blushing now, 'Well, he -' and he gestured towards his own crotch, 'you know. He said he was in love with me, but I didn't quite believe him. I didn't let things go very far because I feared that he just got a kick out of seducing straight blokes.' He gave an embarrassed smile, 'Or so I thought of myself at the time. With Allan, there was something about the way he looked at me; it was scary and exciting at the same time, it pulled me in. We only did it twice. In between those two times, he enlisted and left, I dated Maggie and - well, you know what happened. Once he was gone I thought "that's it, it's over". I thought that was a one off. I thought I was in love with her, things were great.'

He leaned forward, elbows on his thighs and looked up at Sherlock. 'Then Allan showed up again, and we fooled around again. He- it messed me up badly; I didn't know what to think of the whole thing. Was I straight? Was I bi? Was I gay? That's why my relationship with Maggie fell apart. How could I be in love with her if I was going around her back and cheating on her? And with a bloke? I was never attracted to other boys, why did that even happen? I even tried looking around, to see if any other boys had an effect on me, but none did. I've gone out with other girls since. Some I - you know. I was trying to find out what I was. I thought a lot about it since then.'

Sherlock's nostrils flared minutely. He didn't want to think about John with all those girls and Allan. He could always tell which ones he had slept with, even if John had never volunteered the information.

'Over the past few months, with our training, I've been enjoying our time together, our banter, our conversations. I've come to know you. I said it before, you have become my best friend and I was happy with that,' he smiled briefly. 'I feel like I connect with you better than I ever did with anyone else. I feel-' he searched for words, 'comfortable with you.

When I saw that bloke attacking you in the alley I can't explain it; I felt this overwhelming - panic - for you. I had never felt anything like it before. Only later on that day it dawned on me what that man was after. That got me even more worried, given that you didn't fight back. I kept watching you for signs of trauma after that. I watched you for days.

Only then I understood.'

John took a deep breath, 'I've never noticed other boys because I had you by my side all the time. I was always so focused on you, you had all my attention all the time. Like all the other girls, I also had "noticed" you this year. My break up with Maggie, fooling around with Allan, my despair when you were attacked, my fascination with you sent me into a very confused time. There was no way to deny it, I had a crush on you. I tried really hard to stamp it down, because you said many times that you weren't interested in relationships, that people are boring.'

Sherlock's mouth hung open.

'That didn't work now, did it?' John lowered his eyes with a quick half smile. 'All this time I've got used to touching you. To be physically close to you became normal to me. I've enjoyed our training and our floor wrestling; a lot more than I was ready to admit. I tried not to make too much of it. Everything was fine. That is, until that day at the lodge.

Being alone with you for a couple of days, then in such close contact, with our positions and all that "hugging". It broke down my self control. You looked so gorgeous under the fire light, panting, with your hair a bit wet from sweat, twirling around your face. Right then and there I wanted to touch you. I wanted to kiss you. And I would have, had your parents not come in. I felt this "possibility" between us.' He broke into an embarrassed smile, looking away. 'What a ridiculous cliché, by the fireplace!' He looked back, serious. 'I was in a state that whole evening; I kept looking at you and you kept avoiding looking at me and it just got worse and worse. I couldn't sleep and - well, that was the result.' He looked down.

Sherlock was breathing a little faster with all this, entranced by what John was telling him. Somehow the sitting room was much warmer now.

'I wasn't sure of what I wanted or if you wanted it, until I straddled you', John paused. 'Were you all right? With what we did?'

'Yes,' he croaked.

'Sherlock, what I'm trying to say is that, with Allan, he pursued me. With you, I wanted it. With you I didn't just let a bloke get me off. With you, I did what felt natural. That was a first for me. What I feel for you is different. Different than what I felt for Maggie or Allan.'

'Different how?'

'I don't know, Sherlock. It's-' He stared into space, searchingly, then back at him, 'more.' John looked away and took a deep breath. Then, with his forehead all wrinkled, he stared into Sherlock's eyes and asked, 'Do you- Do you want this?'

'By "this" you mean?'

'Continue with what we did. I mean, not just what we did. What I mean is, not just friendship. I mean-'

'Yes.'

John inhaled in surprise. 'Are you sure? What about all that "not being interested in people"? "People are boring"?'

'I'm not interested in people, I'm interested in you.'

'Why me?'

'John, this might embarrass you, but let me show you my jeans and tell you a story.'

...

John's mouth was hanging open. 'You bastard!' Despite the words, John didn't seem furious. He actually sounded amused. 'You spied on me naked?' He smiled, 'Bastard!'

'You should be thankful, that's what caught my attention,' he smirked.

'I can't say I blame you, I know I have one hell of a good looking arse.'

'I find your modesty astounding, John.'

John gave a small smile, then became serious. 'So all this time you knew about Allan.'

'I didn't know what had happened exactly, I couldn't tell wether or not you had a preference.'

'I don't know if I do. I enjoyed it with girls. I enjoyed it with Allan. But I loved it with you. With you I want - more.' John looked at the floor, going a little pink on the cheeks.

Sherlock couldn't believe this was happening. 'I didn't know I had a preference until that day in the locker room. I've never had interest in anybody else, nor have I ever expected that something like what we did would happen to me. You are different than everybody else.'

'How?'

Sherlock gave a small smile. 'You like me.'

'I can't believe you're interested in me. You could have anyone you like.'

He frowned, 'Why do you say that?'

'Oh, come on, Sherlock.'

'No, I really don't know why you're saying that.'

John pursed his lips and shook his head. 'You are gorgeous. You are amazing, in more ways than I can count. There's no one like you.'

Sherlock was stunned into silence. Nobody had ever made comments on his appearance; not in a positive manner anyway, if you counted Sebastian and his mates. And only John could always associate him with the word "amazing". It always made him smile to hear John say it.

'John, you are the one who could have anyone you like.'

'Not really. I'm not handsome, I know that. My so called "popularity" depends heavily on being the rugby captain. After school that won't really matter anymore.'

'No, it's more a matter of who you are. People usually don't like me, but they like you.'

'Maybe.'

John took a deep breath and asked, 'Sherlock, I need to ask you: if we do this, what do we do about school?'

Sherlock frowned, 'What do you mean?'

'Do we tell everybody?'

'Why should that matter?'

'Well, if we don't, we can't just openly kiss in front of people, can we?'

Sherlock sighed. People are so complicated. He let his arms fall and sank in the chair. 'John, people are not my area, I'll let you decide what you want and I'll go along with it.'

'Listen, I'd love to yell to the world that we are together. But realistically, I don't think it'll be a good idea. At school, at least.'

'You are embarrassed to say you're with me, a boy.'

'Well... yes, a little. Not because of you. Please understand, after all the girls I've dated it's a little difficult for me to flip that switch that quickly. I'm still trying to get my head around it. But more than anything, I don't want to cause you more trouble. I'd hate to see scumbags like Sebastian adding that kind of insult to pick on you.'

'He and the others don't bother me, I don't care about them.'

'But you know what I mean.'

Sherlock sighed, rubbing his temple, 'Yes.'

'Honestly Sherlock, I fear for you if they learn about us. I thought about that too these past three days, you know?'

Sherlock pulled his hand away and stared back at John.

John blushed and looked down. 'I care about you. I don't want to make your life worse. I almost gave up on us for that reason. But the truth is, I don't want to give up. I want to be with you.'

John fidgeted, flicking his eyes at him and at the floor, forehead crinkling, but Sherlock continued staring, now with his mouth open.

'Eh, Sherlock? Sherlock. Sherlock!'

Sherlock blinked and closed his mouth. After a few seconds, he stood up. He slowly walked up to John and extended his hand, palm up.

John didn't know what that meant but, with his forehead all wrinkled, he took Sherlock's hand.

Sherlock spoke very quietly, pulling him up, 'Come with me.'

'Where?'

'To my room.'