A/N: (PLEASE READ!) I'm providing a straightforward warning in saying that John's mother gets a little physical with him. Since it's John's POV the description relies on his feeling. It's only a few lines and also a bit of implied past experiences of similar situations. I've never written anything quite like this, I wasn't sure how to warn it so I just thought I'd fess up from the start. Sorry if anyone doesn't like it.
Oh and this chapter also has a warning for sexytimes. Thanks, please review!
With only a few weeks left until Christmas, John's mother takes Saturday off work so they can go shopping and set up their decorations. Harry's back and sticks around to help, all the while acting oddly towards John.
They have a pleasant day, he's very happy being able to spend time with his mother, but it bothers him all day the way Harry is acting.
He finally decides to confront her after the family dinner they have.
"Why are you acting so weird towards me?" John asks when their mother finally leaves the room. "I should be acting weird towards you! You hurt me!"
"You kissed Clara, John!"
"I did not! She kissed me! Why would you even think I kissed her when you know I have Sherlock?"
"I saw everything!" Harry yells.
"Then you saw her kiss me!"
"I don't know how you feel, John," she tells him. "You're not even really gay. How do I know you didn't like it? How do I know you don't like her?"
John's never really put any thought into if he's gay or not. He knows he really has never liked anyone besides Sherlock, but he has appreciated the beauty of any gender of person. He still doesn't appreciate that Harry says he isn't really gay, as if Sherlock is some sort of experiment.
"Because I love Sherlock, Harry! That's how I know I don't like her!"
He doesn't hear anyone behind him before his mother's voice sternly ask, "What do you mean you love him, John?"
Harry's eyes grow wide and she steps back, and John slowly turns around.
"Uhm…"
"You'd better not mean that you love him, John."
John licks his lips and stands up straighter. It's about time his mother learns of his six month relationship with another boy. "I mean I love him, Mother. We've been dating for about six months, but we've been—"
Dawn, John's mother, shakes her head slowly. "You're confused, son. You don't know what love even means, and you certainly don't know what it means to love another boy!"
John quickly grows upset. His mother's voice is harsh, like a voice she's never used with him, and the words she's saying aren't nice to him. "Oh, like you're an expert on love?" he sarcastically questions, his voice raised slightly.
"John!" she cries. "Don't you dare—"
"Because you were an expert on love when you met Dad? When you had Harry and I? You were an expert through our entire childhood? And when Dad came home from the pub that night and—"
Suddenly, his cheek stings. He gasps and grabs his face, and gasps again when it stings more.
"John…" Dawn softly says.
Harry cries somewhere in the corner, but she seems far away. John can't even turn his head to look at her, to make sure she's ok like he would when they were younger.
When he finally gathers his thoughts, he grows so angry that he wants to hit back, but he doesn't. He knows he can't hit his mother.
"John, I'm—"
"Shut up," John says, nearly in a whisper. "Just shut up."
Dawn looks angry again. "Don't—"
"You don't, Mother!" John yells at her. He steps towards her and she moves out of his way. "I can't be here if I'm going to be hit for loving who I love, if I'm going to be hit anymore at all!" he yells, heading for the door.
"John, don't you dare walk out that door!"
John throws his coat on and pulls the front door open.
"John! I'm warning you!"
John steps out the door and slams it shut.
He knows he needs to get to Sherlock's house. It's not that late, but he knows Sherlock didn't sleep the night before, which means Sherlock's probably asleep now. But Clement wouldn't deny him a place to sleep.
He fiddles with the key and gets into the house, leaning against the front door as soon as he gets in.
"John?" Clement calls from somewhere in the house. "Is that you?"
John can't speak to answer, he just cries into his arm.
"Oh, John…" Clement sighs, going to him. He places his hands on John's shoulders and lifts his chin. "Oh…" he repeats, touching John's red cheek.
"My mum knows," John says, still crying. "I told her about Sherlock and I. And she—"
"She hit you?" Clement angrily asks.
"Not because of that," John says, sniffling. "I told her she's no expert on love because of my dad…and then she…"
Clement wraps his arms around John before John begins to cry harder.
"I don't want her to hate me," John cries into Clements shoulder.
"She won't, John. She never could."
"I just love him so much," John says between sniffles. "I can't not…"
"I know, John," Clement says. "I've always know, even when you two were little boys. He told me he loved you once."
John pulls away and wipes his eyes. "He did?"
Clement nods and smiles. "When you were seven, he asked if it was okay to love you. And of course it is, John. It's perfectly alright to love you and for you to love him. I've never loved either of you less, and neither will your mother."
John sniffles and nods. He looks into Clement's face and asks, "Can I sleep here tonight?"
"Sure," Clement says. "Of course."
John nods and hugs him again, then heads for the sitting room. "I'll go to sleep now, if that's ok. I know where the blankets are."
"John," Clement stops him. "I, uhm…we've got some people coming early in the morning," he says. "We're looking to remodel the sitting room."
"Oh," John disappointedly sighs. He knows Sherlock's aunt is staying in the guest room, so he wouldn't even be able to sleep there. "I guess I'll just go—"
"Maybe for the night, it'd be ok for you to…to sleep up in Sherlock's bedroom."
John's eyes grow wide and he looks at Clement in awe. "Really?"
"Yeah, you know, because the people coming in the morning."
"Thank you, sir," John says.
"Hey," Clement grasps his shoulder. "I'm inconveniencing you."
John smiles and wipes his eyes. "Ok. Goodnight, then."
Clement ruffles his hair, then John leaves his side.
John gets up to Sherlock's bedroom and quietly shuts the door. He takes off his jacket and jeans, then climbs into Sherlock's bed.
"Mmm?" Sherlock sighs, turning over to shift towards the extra weight in the bed.
"Hey love," John whispers.
Sherlock blinks awake. "Hmm?"
"I had a fight with my mum," John explains. "Your dad said I could sleep with you."
"Mmm," Sherlock contently sighs, wrapping his arms and legs around John and pulling him close.
John chuckles and hugs Sherlock tight. "Goodnight, baby."
Sherlock kisses his cheek and quickly falls back to sleep.
The next morning, John wakes up with Sherlock literally on top of him. He thinks Sherlock is awake, that this is like the first time they got together, but he hears Sherlock's gentle snores in seconds.
John laughs. "Sherlock!" he whispers, patting Sherlock's hip. "Get off."
Sherlock doesn't budge, and his breathing doesn't change.
"Sherlock!" John tries again.
Again, Sherlock doesn't move, so John heaves him off. He tosses Sherlock aside and takes a deep breath.
John finally looks over at Sherlock and longs to kiss him awake, to delicately touch his pale skin, to taste every bit of him that he can; but he knows Clement is home. Instead, he leans over and lightly kisses Sherlock's neck, then slips out of bed and gets his jeans on.
He goes downstairs to eat breakfast with Clement. It's quite early, barely eight, and there aren't any extra people in the house.
"I thought, uhm," John waves in the direction of the sitting room as he enters the kitchen. "Something about remodeling the sitting room."
"I may have fibbed a bit," Clement tells him. "Coffee?"
John smiles and takes the cup.
"How did you sleep?"
"Fine. I woke up suffocating, though. He was right on top of me."
Clement laughs. "He used to do that to Mycroft."
John smiles, thinking about how cute that would be.
"Well," Clement says. "I've got to go to Rebecca's office for a bit, you stay as long as you need."
"Thanks," John says.
"Ramona is gone, so could you make Sherlock eat as soon as he wakes up?"
"Of course," John says.
Clement smiles. "Great. And John?"
John curiously looks up.
"Everything will be alright with your mother. I can guarantee it."
John takes a deep breath. "Thank you."
Clement hugs him tight, then leaves.
John practically runs up to Sherlock's bedroom as soon as he hears Clement's car exit the garage. He sheds all of his clothes as quickly as he can and climbs back into the bed.
"Sherlock? Wake up, babe," he begs. "Please wake up."
Sherlock stirs. "Hmm?"
"Wake up, please," John tries, kissing Sherlock's neck.
Sherlock takes a deep breath and moves to sit up. He opens his eyes and looks at John. "Are you naked?" he groggily asks.
"Your dad just left," John explains. "He said he had to run to the office."
"Oh," Sherlock replies, placing a hand on John's cheek.
John winces, but ignores the sting leftover from last night. He leans in and kisses Sherlock instead, and in minutes he's pulling at Sherlock's pajama bottoms.
"Are you ok?" John asks before beginning to undress Sherlock.
"Yeah," Sherlock whispers.
John sits up on his heels and pulls Sherlock pajama pants down, and his underpants slip down, too. Sherlock blushes.
John smiles. "You ok?"
"It's just that…" Sherlock starts. "Uhm, last time we weren't completely…"
"Completely naked?"
Sherlock nods.
John chuckles. "Sherlock, I've seen you naked before. Remember when we were six and got all dirty outside? Your dad wouldn't let us come in with our clothes on?"
Sherlock laughs.
"Or when we were ten and you spilled acid on your jeans? I've never seen someone strip so quickly."
Sherlock laughs again.
"Of when we were thirteen and—"
"Alright!" Sherlock cries. "Get on with it, then!"
John smiles and leans over to kiss him again, then removes his pajama pants and underpants.
John groans as he runs his fingertips down Sherlock's erection. Clear fluid sticks to his fingertips and he licks it off his fingers.
"How does it taste?" Sherlock curiously asks.
"Delicious," John replies, leaning down to lick the head of Sherlock's cock.
Sherlock moans and throws his head back.
John kisses up to Sherlock's neck as he strokes Sherlock slowly. Sherlock moans and John licks at his throat, sucking on certain spots to make Sherlock's hips buck.
John strokes and strokes, Sherlock whispering that he's about to come any second. John finally feels him about to, so he shifts down to take just the head of Sherlock's cock in his mouth, then Sherlock comes with a deep groan into John's mouth.
John pulls off and licks his lips. "Oh, that's good…" John sighs, sitting up on his heels again.
Sherlock takes many deep breathes and watches as John wraps a hand around his own erection. John slowly strokes, and Sherlock shifts down on the bed until his face is even to John's crotch. He then opens his mouth, and John grunts as he spills into Sherlock's open lips.
"Ahh, fuck…" John sighs as he begins to relax.
"Delicious," Sherlock mimics, sitting up on his knees and wrapping his arms around John's neck.
John rubs Sherlock's back and kisses his neck.
"I love you," Sherlock whispers into John's hair.
"I love you too."
They hug for many minutes, but finally decide to wash up and get back into bed. They leave the door open so that Clement isn't too upset when he gets home, but by the time he gets there, the boys are sitting up in bed; Sherlock is reading and John is on Sherlock's laptop.
Clement makes them a late breakfast, and they finally leave the room to eat. Over their meal, John tells Sherlock everything that happened the night before.
Sherlock grows very angry. He's upset with John's mother for saying those things to John, and even more upset that Dawn slapped him.
Clement rubs Sherlock's shoulders. "Relax, son," he leans down and whispers into Sherlock's hair.
"I won't relax, Dad!" Sherlock shouts, throwing his fork down. "This is crap!"
Clement lets Sherlock go and John grabs his hand. "It's ok, Sherlock. It's not your problem, alright. I'm fine. It'll be fine."
"It is my problem, John. You always get so upset when kids at school are mean to me. Don't you understand how upset I am?"
John nods. "I do, Sherlock. I understand. And I'm telling you I'm fine."
Sherlock takes a deep breath.
"It's fine."
Sherlock nods.
John kisses his cheek, then directs his attention back to his food.
Clement lets John stay with them all day, but John leaves around dinnertime when he knows his mother will be home. Harry is gone when he arrives, and his mother arrives minutes after he does.
"We need to talk, John," Dawn says as she enters the kitchen.
John's sitting at the island with a bowl of leftover spaghetti. "I know."
First, Dawn hugs him. "I am so sorry for hitting you, John. I know I shouldn't have, I truthfully know that and I am sorry."
John nods. "I know, Mum."
She pulls away and looks angry once again. "But I do not appreciate the way you were speaking to me, young man."
"I know…"
"If you and Sherlock are going to be…" Dawn takes a deep breath. "Together…then I suppose I need to be alright with that."
John looks up at her face. "Really?"
"I do want what's best for you, John."
John nods.
"But that doesn't excuse your actions yesterday. I'm grounding you for a week. That means no phone and only going to school and back."
John sighs. "Yes, Mother."
"But I'm also grounding myself," Dawn says. "I'll be here with you as much as I can. If all goes as planned, I'll be here to make you dinner every night."
John perks up. "Really, Mum?"
She rubs his shoulder. "Yes. I need to make it up to you. I'm so sorry, John."
John lunges forward and hugs her.
Dawn rubs his head and hugs back. "I love you so much, son."
"I love you too, Mum."
Dawn pulls away first, after long seconds. "So," she says. "Tell me how all of that happened."
John blushes. "No."
"Come on, John. I don't get any entertainment! How'd you ask him out?"
John shakes his head. "No, no, no."
"Did he ask you?"
John groans and buries his face in his arms.
Dawn kisses his head as she moves around the island. "I'm going to keep asking until you tell me."
John just just laughs and shakes his head.
"I should have known since you were kids," Dawn tells him. "Ever since the day you met him, I should have known. He was so amazing and so interesting and so smart and so beautiful."
"Oh god," John mutters, blushing again.
"Your words, son! 'Mum,'" she mimics a little boy's voice, "'He's so pretty, Mum. His hair is so fluffy and his eyes are so blue!' I should have known."
Even though she keeps asking, John keeps denying giving her any information, and he ends up going to bed without saying anything more. He's glad his mother forgave him for shouting and for his relationship, and he knows in time he can forgive her for what she did.