A/Note: Thanks bloodywitch136917 and bookgirl111 for favoriting this story.

Sorry if this chapter is all over the place. But at this point, I'm just going to stop fretting and publish it. Enjoy a little lemon zest. ;)

21. Surprise

'John?'

'Yes, dad?'

'So... all this time, when you played rugby. Were you-. Was it-. Did you-. Was it because of the tackling?'

'Dad!'

'Well, you do have those posters in you bedroom-'

'No! I happen to like rugby, that's all, all right?'

'Well, you did do some wrestling-.'

'Dad!'

...

'John?'

'Yes, dad?'

'Have you- have you ever - eh - did you sleep with any of your ex-girlfriends?'

'Dad!'

...

'John?'

John sighed, 'Yes, dad?'

Did you-. Have you-. Ahem, have you and Sherlock-

'Daad!'

'Love, that's private, leave him alone!'

'Well, I'm just trying to understand it, you know? How can he like both boys and girls?'

'I don't know, dad. It just is.'

...

Except for John's father being a little weirded out and springing embarrassing questions at random times, life went more or less back to normal. Not surprisingly, his relationship with Harry got much better, now that she too felt that a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She was treating him more like an ally rather than a rival and was finally trying to quit drinking.

John felt much more relaxed now that he knew where they stood and could "openly" date (at least when going to each other's house). Obviously, they refrained from doing anything in front of their parents and siblings; that was highly embarrassing in itself, straight or gay, and still had to be sneaky when they did want a little more.

Mycroft's amused knowing looks were enough to kill any attempt of physical displays of affection. Thankfully he wasn't home much nowadays, only for short visits on the weekends. Only a few months away from graduation and he had already started a new job (with the influential MP who had invited him for the New Year's Eve party and the charity event) and was now living on his own (to Sherlock's delight). Those visits had caused many arguments between the brothers, unbeknownst to John. Mycroft had surprised Sherlock at how absurdly protective he was behaving nowadays. Knowing that John had had other partners, he constantly asked all sorts of embarrassing questions about whether or not they were practicing safe sex. Then, to Sherlock's greater annoyance, Mycroft saw the truth.

Which was, despite their heated encounters, both boys had not gone very far. And that was fine as far as Sherlock was concerned. It was just none of Mycroft's business.

Now and then John would try something a little more daring, but Sherlock would usually back away. He did worry that there would come a day when John would want more. Would he ever be able to? He didn't know.

For his part, John wasn't sure he wanted to "go all the way" with Sherlock. The prospect seemed a little unsanitary. Worse, what if Sherlock would ever want him? Could he? That was what had kept his head in place while Allan had pursued him.

...

A few weeks later, Sherlock was walking down a corridor hurriedly; he was running a bit late for his next Chemistry class. Suddenly he was grabbed from behind and shoved into a cleaning cupboard. It was dark in there, with only a bit of light coming through the vent at the top of the door. He recognised the cologne.

'What now?' he sighed exasperatedly, turning around.

Sebastian held his hands up. 'Just wanted to chat with you in private, that's all.'

'In a cleaning cupboard.'

'Yes. Soon everybody will be inside their classes, so this will be quiet, just between you and me.'

'What, you don't feel the need to have four of your mates with you to beat me up anymore?'

'No,' he took a step closer. Sherlock quickly evaluated their surroundings and assumed a fighting stance.

Sebastian raised his hands again, 'No need for that, Sherlock. Don't worry, I'm not going to fight you.'

Sherlock frowned. He had called him by his name this time, not "freak". 'What do you want?'

He took another step and Sherlock backed away, so Sebastian held his palms up, facing forward. 'It's all right, I'm not going to hit you. I just want to talk to you.'

Sherlock lowered his hands, but kept his body in a forty five degree angle, still ready and alert. Like hell he would trust Sebastian's peace offering.

'You've changed this year, you know?'

'Different haircut, a few inches taller, yes. So?'

'No, there's something else.' He was getting uncomfortably close now, and his breathing a bit more laboured. 'Something about how you carry yourself. You've become more - sensual.'

Sherlock widened his eyes. Stupid! How did I miss this?

'It's like something in you has been awakened,' he gestured towards Sherlock's body.

'Oh please, don't be so pedantic.'

He came closer still, so Sherlock took a step back and stumbled against the wall behind him. Sebastian put his hands on the wall on each side, trapping him.

'Look, I know I was a brute in the past, but I want to change it now. I want to get to know you better.' Sebastian's breathing was obscenely loud now. He ran the back of his fingers on Sherlock's face.

Sherlock was rooted to the spot, in shock. He felt goose pimples spreading on his nape. His throat felt constricted, he couldn't think, he couldn't move.

'I like your smell,' he whispered, inhaling deeply. 'I like the feisty ones. That's what I've always liked about you, Sherlock. You were never scared.' They were so close now that he could feel Sebastian's breath puffing over his face. 'That day you finally fought back caused a huge impression on me, you know?' He wrapped his arms around Sherlock's waist and pulled him closer. Sebastian was hard. 'As you can tell, huge.' He rubbed himself against Sherlock as he spoke. 'You were cute before. But now you're such a pretty little thing.' And to his astonishment, Sebastian was leaning down to kiss him.

Sherlock was instantly reminded of the alley incident. He had to fight this irrational and paralysing fear and react. Only John. Sherlock's hands flew to the massive chest in front of him and firmly shoved it away. Sebastian stopped, but the heavy hands remained on his hips.

'Sebastian, as flattering as you may think this is, this is even less desirable than a fight with you.'

'I can be gentle too, Sherlock. Stick with me and you'll never have to worry about the others again. I'll take good care of you.'

Sherlock kept his arms firmly straight. 'No, not interested.'

'Come on, let me take you out for a ride right now. Let's skip class and have some fun.'

'No, Sebastian. Not now, not ever.'

Sebastian raised his hands, palms facing out, 'Calm down, Sherlock-'

Sherlock took this opportunity and quickly ducked under Sebastian's arms. He threw the cupboard door open, relieved for not being confined anymore. He turned his head just long enough to say 'Not you,' and walked away, with as much dignity as he could muster, trying hard not to run. Once he turned a corner, he shivered. He was trembling. He didn't like to admit it, not even to himself, but he had been scared. Much more scared than when all they wanted was to beat him. Just like that day in the alley.

...

'You're late, Mr. Holmes.'

'Yes, Professor. Terribly sorry. I was held up.'

The professor arched his eyebrows. It was very unusual for Sherlock to apologise. 'Erm, very well, take your seat, Mr. Holmes. Page fifty seven, experiment three.'

'Yes, Professor.'

John didn't like this. Sherlock looked flustered and disheveled.

'What happened,' he whispered.

'Nothing.'

'Trouble?'

'No.'

John sniffed, 'Are you wearing cologne?'

'No. I mean, I bumped into father this morning, maybe that's what you're smelling.'

John texted and Sherlock felt his pocket buzz a couple of seconds later. He waited five minutes to look at it.

'I prefer your smell. Never wear cologne. J'

He smiled to himself.

Sherlock spent the whole class thinking about it. He decided against telling John. It could get very messy and very public, very quickly.

...

As soon as John walked into Sherlock's room, he was engulfed in a tight embrace while being fiercely snogged. There was a sense of desperation in Sherlock's kisses this time. Once the rush eased, he asked gently, 'Not that I'm complaining, but what has gotten into you today?'

'You also pounce on me, once in a while,' he said defensively.

'I'm not saying you can't, in fact I'd be delighted if you did it more. But this feels different. What's wrong?'

Sherlock paused. He wasn't exactly sure why he felt the way he did. A great part of it was the fact that the encounter with Sebastian had left him rattled. He searched for the appropriate words, but suddenly he understood what this was. 'I don't want to loose you.'

'You're not going to loose me, you berk. I'm not a dog to get lost, I can always find my way back to you,' he teased, punching Sherlock's arm lightly.

'I know. But sometimes I wonder-' he lowered his eyes.

'Yes?' John moved his head around, trying to catch Sherlock's eyes.

He pulled away and faced the room. 'I can't seem to. I don't know if I'll ever be able to. Allow you.' He dropped his voice and his gaze, even though his back was to John. 'To have me.'

'Sherlock,' he said gently, touching his shoulder, 'is that what's bothering you? Hey, I don't even know if we'll ever get to that, to be honest. I don't feel ready either.'

'Maybe not now, but eventually you might want to.'

'Then we'll talk about it if and when that happens. Come on, Sherlock.'

John made him turn around and held his arms, 'Sherlock, what we have, what we are, is more than just sex to me.'

He turned away again; he just couldn't say this while looking at John. 'What if I'm just a novelty to you? You've always liked girls. Eventually you will feel the need for real sex again. You'll have no trouble finding willing partners.'

'You're not just a novelty,' John hugged him from behind, 'and what we do is just as real to me. I don't want other partners.' He gently turned him around again, 'Sherlock, look at me.'

He did. John had his hands over his shoulders and stared intently into his eyes.

'Sherlock, I think I love you. I can't imagine being without you.'

Sherlock stared wide eyed, frozen.

'Sherlock? Sherlock, you're doing that again. Sherlock,' he shook him slightly.

Sherlock took a deep breath, blinked, then kissed him. Deeply, to show him what he couldn't put into words. John took his hand and guided him to the bed and both sat down. Touching Sherlock's cheek he kissed him.

(...) 'Even (...) if all (...) we ever do (...) is this, (...) I'm happy (...)'

'Mmmf John (...) shut up (...) and kiss me (...)'

...

John was lying on his stomach with his head turned, facing Sherlock. With his head propped up and lying on his side, Sherlock was running his other hand up and down John's back. He loved touching it.

John smiled and said, 'You have a thing for my back, don't you?'

Sherlock's eyes flicked sharply back to John's, his hand going still for a second.

'That's all right, I don't mind. I like it when you touch me there.'

Sherlock lowered his gaze with a small smile, his cheeks going a little pink.

'Sherlock, have you ever asked yourself if you would want to, you know, top me?'

'Yes, and the answer is I seriously doubt it. The mechanics of it are just unappealing to me. I like what we do better. Why?' He panicked slightly, eyes wide. 'You want me to?'

'No, not really.'

'Ah. Good.'

'Sherlock, the important thing is that we're both happy right now, yeah? If things change, we'll deal with it. Right now, it's all fine.'

John turned onto his side and touched Sherlock's chest with the back of his hand. 'I like what we do. I love looking at you and touching you.' He ran his hand down Sherlock's arm and slid it to his waist and hip. 'I've done my research too, you know? I've read that, contrary to what the porn industry wants you to believe, not all gay couples do it.' Then he leaned forward and kissed the pale chest, moving up to the neck. 'You know (...) what one of the advantages (...) of being a teenager is?'

'What?'

'Quick (...) recovery time,' he guided Sherlock's hand down.

'Ah,' he sighed. 'I see.' He moaned as he felt a hand on his stomach, sliding down, 'John, you're nng, insatiable.'

'Just how (...) you like me.'