A/N: Thank you for the kind words last chapter! I'm glad many people enjoyed it. Hope you enjoy chapter two.
Sherlock and John have been friends for a long time, so it's not all that surprising when Sherlock arrives home from school to find John sitting on his sofa between Rebecca, Sherlock's mother, and Ramona, Sherlock's aunt.
"Mother!" Sherlock calls, entering the front door and going into the sitting room. "Mother, I'm-" As soon as he spots John, he pauses. "What are you doing here?"
John looks up from his plate of cookies and smiles.
"We were just catching up, love," Rebecca tells her son. "Honestly, John never visits us anymore. He used to come to see the whole family, but now…"
"Yes, well," Sherlock sighs, annoyed. He doesn't like sharing John, not even with his harmless mother. "When you're finished with the sweets, I'd like you to help with what I needed you here for in the first place."
Sherlock sweeps away, his coat whipping behind, and the three on the sofa watch.
"That boy is so dramatic," Ramona says.
"He can be," John agrees. He sits up and sets his plate on the table. "I'd better go, then."
"Don't be a stranger, John," Rebecca says. "If you get bored of my wretched son, we can always use a third for cards."
John smiles at the sisters. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you for the snack."
Rebecca and Ramona smile at John, then he turns to follow Sherlock.
John gets up to Sherlock's bedroom to find him whirling around the room. He's pulling out books, setting up beakers, starting timers, all for an experiment that John, of course, doesn't understand.
"Finally," Sherlock mutters when he finally spots John. "Ok, I need you to take three beakers and fill them to the third line of water. One freezing cold, one lukewarm, and one boiling hot. Then, I need you to-"
John fondly smiles at Sherlock's whizzing mind. He can practically see the dials working; he can definitely hear the gears shifting. He loves watching Sherlock work, most of the time. He enjoys the way Sherlock walks in circles as he talks, the way his hands and arms wave with each emphasis, and the way Sherlock is so focused.
But he likes to mess with the focus.
When Sherlock walks past him a fourth time, John grabs his arm and pulls him to a halt. Sherlock looks down at John's hand, then up at John's face.
"I feel like I haven't seen you all day," John softly says, pulling Sherlock towards him.
Sherlock scowls. "I just saw you before last period began, you said-"
John chuckles. "It's an expression Sherlock. Besides, I haven't seen you. Not really."
Sherlock looks confused.
John just laughs and leans up to smack a quick kiss onto Sherlock's lips.
Those small, tiny, insignificant kisses are John's favorite. When they're in public and John does it, Sherlock goes on about his business as if nothing happened at all, and once John asked Sherlock why he doesn't acknowledge those kisses.
"Because," Sherlock had said, "When you kiss me like that, the quickness of it, the ease, it's…natural, John. As natural as blinking. I don't notice blinking, do I? And no, John, I don't mean it doesn't mean anything to me. I mean that it's…like a muscle memory. Like I've been meant to do it my entire life."
Needless to say, John was very happy with that answer.
When they're alone, however, Sherlock nearly always expects more than the small kiss. Because of this, after John leaves a kiss, he always pulls away to see Sherlock's lips still puckered as if waiting for more. That John loves because Sherlock's lips are the most delectable things John's ever seen. And when they're puckering to receive a kiss from him? The site is incomparable.
So Sherlock nearly always gets that second kiss.
When they pull apart the second time, long seconds after John went in for another kiss, Sherlock is smiling.
"See what I mean?" John wonders, letting Sherlock's arm go. "I haven't seen you all day, not really."
"But John, I saw you just a few—"
"Ugh!" John sighs, exasperated. He picks up the three beakers Sherlock needed filled. "Never mind. What do you need?"
John wanders back downstairs, figuring he'll really blow Sherlock away by actually boiling and freezing water for a few minutes, until they're at a reasonable temperature.
When he gets down into the kitchen, Sherlock's father is washing vegetables.
"John!" Sherlock's father, Clement, exclaims. "I thought I heard you."
Sherlock's very tall, very handsome father walks around the island to hug John. John happily hugs back, for other than his boyfriend, Clement is his favorite member of the Holmes family.
As stated, John and Sherlock have been friends for a very long time. So John's been a part of this family for just about half of his life. In that time, John and Clement have formed a bond, of sorts. Clement is the father John never had, the father he'd wished could be his. John would spend the night at Sherlock's house so often so he could wake up to watch cartoons with a dad on Saturday morning.
And Clement always made it worth their while. They'd make breakfast, they'd watch cartoons, he'd take the two boys to the park. Being from a wealthy family, and with Sherlock's mother working enough for two parents, Clement didn't have to work, so he'd be there for the boys when Rebecca and John's mother couldn't be; he was their classroom helper, he even helped coach John's football team (even though he had no relation to any player on the team). The truth is, John enjoyed being with Clement just as much as he liked being with Sherlock.
Now is no different.
"What are you making?" John wonders, peering into the pot that Clement is tossing veggies into. "Smells great."
"It's quite cold, I thought I'd make soup," Clement tells him. "Are you staying for dinner?"
"Yes, of course," John says, knowing his mother works late this evening. "I've got to take these back to Sherlock, but we'll be down for dinner."
"Make him wear his hat if you go outside, please?" Clement asks. "You know I can't deal with ear infections."
John chuckles, picks up the beakers, then goes back to Sherlock's bedroom.
They do end up going outside, after ten minutes of fighting about the hat. John ends up sitting on Sherlock's chest and tying the hat to his head. Sherlock scowls the entire time.
"I'm not talking to you if you get an ear infection," John tells Sherlock, pulling the hood to his jacket on. "You're irritable, whiney, annoying, and on top of all that you're germy."
"I'm all of those things anyway," Sherlock retorts.
"You're right. Why do I talk to you again?"
Sherlock glares.
John smiles and kisses Sherlock's nose. "Now, come on. I'm hungry and dinner is almost ready."
They go outside, down near the pool, where the snow is the most soft because nobody ever goes out there.
Sherlock sets his tray of experiment necessities down and gets the beakers. He packs each in the snow and asks John to hand him the saucer of brown-ish powder. John asks what it is, but Sherlock ignores him.
Sherlock takes a pinch of the substance, then drops it into the beaker of freezing water. It begins to fizz nearly immediately, and in seconds, the beaker explodes under the snow.
Sherlock's face transforms into a very large, satisfied smile. "Excellent," he says, digging as much broken glass out of the snow as he can. He takes the other beakers out and arranges them back onto the tray and contently sits back onto the snow.
"That's it?" John questions.
Sherlock's head slowly turns to look at John. His eyes are wide and his mouth is hanging open. "I beg your pardon?"
"I just…it…that's it?"
"It exploded, John. What more do you want?"
"I don't know!" John cries. His hands make the motion of a bigger explosion. "Bigger explosion, perhaps?"
"You heard my father! No more explosions!"
John shrugs. "I guess it was…kind of cool, then…"
Sherlock rolls his eyes and stands, taking the tray with him.
"Hey, hey!" John tries, following Sherlock up. "I'm sorry. It was great, I just never know what's going on, you know that. Everything you do is fantastic, you know that."
"I don't, John," Sherlock says, setting the tray on the table by the pool and sitting at a frozen seat.
John stands next to him and strokes the fringe sticking out of his hat out of his eyes. "You do know, Sherlock. I think everything you do is amazing."
Sherlock looks up at him with giant puppy-dog eyes. "Really?"
John half smiles, then leans down and kisses Sherlock's nose. He makes a face when he pulls away. "Cold nose."
Sherlock smiles.
"So," John says, pulling Sherlock up off the seat. He sits where Sherlock was, then pulls the skinnier boy onto his lap. "Harry's back from uni, and my mum will be working a long night shift on Friday. Harry wants to have a party. Whatdya say?"
"To Harry having a party?" Sherlock shrugs. "I don't think I have much say, really. She's an adult, she—"
John laughs. "You dope. To coming to the party."
Sherlock makes a disgusted face, which makes John laugh.
"I do not do parties."
John sighs. "I know, but-"
"You've known me for nine, nearly ten years, when have I ever expressed interest in parties?"
"That one time-"
"When we were ten and your mother took us to a..." Sherlock waves a noodly arm, at a loss for the word. "Trampoline place."
John chuckles. "Well, what about-"
"When we were seven and you said you'd have a dinosaur cake for your birthday. That I was excited for, but you had a Toy Story cake instead."
"Rex is a-"
"Cartoon dinosaurs don't count, John."
John chuckles again and rubs the back of Sherlock's neck. "Look, you're my best friend, you're my boyfriend, and I want you to come to my party. My sister's bringing friends, someone is bound to be interesting enough to talk to."
"Yeah, but he'll be hosting the party."
John half smiles and blushes. "Fine, fine," he says. "If you come and you get bored, you can just barricade yourself in my bedroom again like last Christmas."
"You didn't say your cousin was going to have an...attraction...to me."
"Yeah," John says through gritted teeth. "I didn't think she'd follow you around all night."
Sherlock looks at John's face. "That bothered you?"
"Sherlock, I was in love with you. Of course it bothered me. I thought she had a chance with you."
Sherlock rolls his eyes. "She was boring, John. And so not you."
John smiles.
Sherlock leans down to kiss him lightly.
As soon as they pull apart, Sherlock says, "And I wouldn't have been up there that long had you just given me your laptop password like I asked."
"I do admit, it was nice that you asked for once."
"It was a rare occasion," Sherlock admits. "Will there be...kids from school...at your party?"
John purses his lips, knowing this would be an issue. "I did invite a lot of people-"
Sherlock sighs.
"But," John adds. "I only added everyone who will leave you alone. As long as you leave them alone."
"John, I never even-"
"I know, Sherlock, I know. I'm on your side, remember?"
Sherlock nods.
"So just, you know...be..."
"Nicer?"
John slightly nods.
Sherlock sighs. He knows John wants him to be there, and he knows how disappointed John will be if he denies. "Fine," he finally says, "I'll go to your stupid party. As long as nobody talks to me."
John smiles wide. "You will?"
Sherlock rolls his eyes and stands from John's lap. "I do hate repetition, John."
John laughs and follows him up. "Whatever. You will have fun, I promise. And if you don't, well then..." he slyly winks and smirks. "I'll make it up to you."
"Do you mean..." Sherlock practically purrs, pushing himself into John's personal space.
John's eyelids grow heavy as he gazes at Sherlock's heavenly mouth.
Sherlock continues, against John's lips, "Unlimited experiments for two weeks?"
John sighs and pushes Sherlock away. "Fine. You baby."
Sherlock smiles and leads John back to the house.