- 2 days ago
You both like Johnlock.
[Teen!Lock] For all intents and purposes, Sherlock was actually loorking forward to the trip to Surrey - not for spending the whole weekened with whoever he had to share a room with, but mainly the bees he’d get to watch if he could sneak away from the teachers and the idiotic tour guide they’d met earlier that day. “Sherlock Holmes!” the professor called. “Rooming with John Watson.” A collective sigh of relief could be heard from half the students as the blond Rugby player nudged him. It could have been much worse than sharing a room with one of the very few people in his class he got along with, even if he did have a rather undeniable fondness for him.
John smiled to himself when he was announced as sharing with Sherlock. He thought the raven haired boy was interesting, unlike most of his classmates, who had him pegged as weird, unnatural, and a freak. John didn’t know whether it was the way Sherlock spoke, or the depth of his eyes, but John knew he felt incredibly strongly about him. And now he was sharing a room with him for a weekend. All of the possibilities fluttered through John’s mind, and he thought he might know more about Sherlock by the time they went home.
Sherlock was actually quite glad that he was sharing a room with John. He picked up his suitcase and turned to the Rugby player. “I suppose we should go up to our room…” He got the key from the front desk and walked up the stairs. He didn’t know if John was following. He walked quickly past Jim in the hallway, ignoring what he said as he finally found the room and opened it.
John followed Sherlock up the staircase, frowning at the insults from Jim but resolving to have a word with Sherlock later, rather than butting in when Sherlock himself hadn’t said anything. He peered over Sherlock’s shoulder as he swung the door open to see their home for the weekend. It was simple, but cosy. Twin beds pushed close together, to leave space for a couple of armchairs and a coffee table. It was tastefully furnished in warm colours, oranges and reds. John smiled, and barged past Sherlock. “Dibs on the bed by the window,” he said with a grin, throwing his case onto said bed.
Sherlock rolled his eyes and set his suitcase on the other bed. “Alright then..” He unpacked his things quickly and set his books on the table. He curled up in one of the chairs and looked towards the window. He tried to think of something to say as he sat there, but he really had no idea what he could discuss with John. He ran his fingers through his hair and glanced up at his roommate.
John flicked his eyes away so Sherlock wouldn’t notice that he was staring. He stuttered a few times, then grabbed the first conversation he could find, as his eyes fell on Sherlock’s bed and the book that rested there. “What are you reading?” John asked.
Sherlock felt a faint blush come up to his cheeks. “It’s about bees..” he said quietly and shifted so his knees were under himself. “I.. I like them.” He reached up and threaded his fingers into his hair, looking towards the window again. He tugged absently on his hair and glanced around the room.
John’s lips quirked up at the sides, but he didn’t laugh. He still felt like he was tiptoeing around a wild animal, with Sherlock, and he didn’t want him to think that his bee interest was silly. Instead, he was interested by the slightly unorthodox interest, and pressed the conversation. “Are you going to look at some while you’re here? I heard there’s a new hive down in the valley.”
Sherlock blushed more and nodded. “Yes..” he said quietly. He was surprised John wasn’t laughing at him. He stared out the window and refused to look at John. He didn’t want to see him laughing silently. He saw some of the students walking around outside on the green. “…You know you don’t have to spend time with me.. the rugby team is outside.”
"Oh." John mistook Sherlock’s comment as a rebuttal, and paused. "If you don’t want me to stay, I’ll go and hang with them, that’s fine…" He hadn’t missed Sherlock’s refusal to meet his gaze and wondered suddenly if the tugging at his curls was less an absentminded tic and more a sign of some sort if distress. Maybe Sherlock just didn’t want him around.
Sherlock looked over at John and shook his head. “No… I meant.. I didn’t think you wanted to be here..” He pulled harder on his hair and looked nervously and the blond Rugby player. He was terrified that he would offend John so it would probably be easier if he left now.
"I…I mean why…what makes you think I wouldn’t want to be here?" John stumbled, frustrated that he couldn’t seem to arrange his thoughts. "I like you- I mean of course I like you but- I like the rugby team too, they’re great but you’re… You’re interesting. Wait, that sounded wrong. You’re cool-well you’re not ‘cool’ but- you’re nice."
Sherlock looked at John, confused. “I’m… I’m a freak..” he said, staring at John. “No one thinks I’m nice.. or interesting..” He pulled his knees up to his chest and curled up in the chair. He wound his fingers tighter into his hair and looked down. “I… didn’t understand..”
"You’re not a freak. I know what people say, I heard Jim in the corridor, but they’re wrong, Sherlock. You’re just different." John stepped closer, noticing how Sherlock curled in on himself. "I’m not doing this for a date, or a bet, I like you."
Sherlock looked up at John again. “You like me?” he asked quietly and pulled his hair again. His stomach flipped nervously and he glanced around. He clenched his fists and closed his eyes. Of course John was just doing this on a bet.
John took another step so he was right next to Sherlock, then on impulse reached out and teased Sherlock’s fingers out of his hair. “Yeah, I like you. And I have for a while. If you pull on your hair any harder, it’ll fall out, so stop.” He whispered.
Sherlock couldn’t help it as his fingers closed tightly around John’s hand. “I like you too,” he said quietly and squeezed his hand hard. He felt like John would start laughing any second and leave the room. He felt like he was going to throw up.
Instead, John smiled softly and squeezed Sherlock’s hand in his own. “Good.” John murmured.
"Good?" he asked quietly and took John’s hand in both of his own. What did he mean? It was good because it would make the joke so much funnier?
"Yeah, good. Because if you didn’t like me, what would I do then?" Sherlock’s eyes looked so vulnerable, like this was the first time he’d ever opened up to someone else.
Sherlock was absolutely terrified. He didn’t know what to do. “I- I don’t know..” He looked up at John for a moment before letting go of his hand and running down the hall to the bathroom. He leaned over one of the toilets and emptied his stomach.
"Sherlock, Sherlock!" John called after him, worried by the sudden departure of Sherlock. He was also alarmed that his knees felt weak and his heart fluttery in the wake of the gorgeous, dark haired- wait, gorgeous? John sat down heavily, and hoped Sherlock was okay. He didn’t go after him because he assumed that whatever had made him run had been caused by John himself, and the lay thing he would want was John.
Sherlock closed his eyes as he stood up. He rinsed out his mouth and walked slowly back to his and John’s room. He crawled into his bed and covered his head with his blankets. He was such an idiot. He closed his eyes tightly and curled up into a ball. He really messed up this time.
John flopped his head into his hands. He’d really upset Sherlock now, and it was clear that Sherlock wouldn’t be talking to him again any time soon. He’d screwed up big time, they’d only just become friends and he’d tried to take it further, put too much pressure on and bam. Sherlock didn’t want to even talk to him anymore.
Sherlock turned over and peeked over the blankets at John. Oh god he was a terrible person. He slipped silently from the bed and tiptoed over to John. “Um.. John…?” he whispered. “I- I’m sorry..”
"No, Sherlock, it’s my fault, I shouldn’t have acted like I did." John tried not to meet the searching gaze of the one person he felt any sort of attraction towards
"I didn’t.. no.. You were being nice…" He stood nervously and shifted on his feet. "I didn’t realize.. you just.." He took a small step back. "I overreacted.." He sat on the floor next to his bed and curled into a ball. "I- I like you.. a lot."
John’s heart skipped a beat. “A lot? I mean, I like you quite a lot, Sherlock. An awful lot, in honesty.” John slid closer until he was sat on the floor beside Sherlock, but not touching him, because he didn’t want to freak him out like before.
Sherlock glanced up at John and tugged on his hair. “But you.. you don’t like me like I like you..” He pressed his face into his knees and closed his eyes again. “I’m so sorrry…”
"Sherlock, look at me." John urged. "How can you tell that I don’t feel towards you how you feel towards me?"
Sherlock looked up at him. “You’re you.. You would never like me as much as I like you..” he looked down again and pulled his hair hard. “People never like me back..”
John reached out again, hesitating only slightly before tugging on Sherlock’s hands once more. He pulled them down and cradled them in his own like fragile butterflies. “This person does.” John said, softly, meeting Sherlock’s gaze openly.
Sherlock looked up at John and rested his hands in John’s slightly larger ones. “Do you..? Really…?” He watched John nervously. He still felt sick. He didn’t know what to do.
John leaned closer, lowering his voice as if what they were doing was secret. “I have done since I first saw you, sat on your own under a tree on the school field. Every second I’ve known you has only reinforced the way I feel.”
Sherlock looked up at John nervously and threaded their fingers together. “I- like you… a lot..” he whispered and squeezed his hands gently.
"I think you said that already." John smiled, then leaned forwards and brushed his lips over Sherlock’s.
Sherlock’s heat fluttered in his chest. “S- sorry..” he said quietly and pressed his lips against John’s. He moved closer to the Rugby player.
"Stop apologising," John said as he pulled back. "It’s not very you." Then he pushed back forwards, diving in for a deeper, more heated kiss.
Sherlock wrapped his arms around John’s neck and pulled closer. He couldn’t believe this. He let his eyes slip closed as he kissed John back slowly.
"Sherlock…" John growled against Sherlock’s lips, trying to light a fire inside Sherlock like the one that was burning so brightly in him.
Sherlock gasped and pressed himself against John. He slipped his legs over John’s lap and pressed his chest against the rugby player’s.
John broke away for a second. “I love you.” He gasped.
Sherlock looked up at John. “I love you too,” he whispered and pulled John down again kissing him hard.
- 3 days ago
- 3 days ago
- 3 days ago
- 3 days ago
Best reaction ever.
I think people don’t give Greg anywhere near enough credit for how much he does for Sherlock and how well he knows him.
While John reacts violently, which is completely understandable, Greg here is really just going, “god dammit, I should have seen this coming”