Sherlock sat in the almost empty stands watching his Jawn practice. John wasn’t really his, but Sherlock still felt slightly possessive of him. John was the star of the University's Rugby Team and Sherlock admired him. Not for his skills on the field, that’s what everyone else admired him for, no, Sherlock admired John for his ability to intrigue Sherlock and surprise him, not to mention put up with him. Although John’s physical appearance did capture Sherlock’s mind sometimes, and on occasion his body.
Sherlock found he could sit for hours and catalogue every detail about John, especially the way John would smile at Sherlock when he noticed the taller man watching him from the stands.
Never wanting or needing a relationship with another person, Sherlock was very interested in how John had ignited that spark inside himself. A desire to really make John his Jawn, but as John had put it multiple times; “I’m not gay,” so Sherlock had decided to keep his affections to himself. Well of course his brother, Mycroft, knew, Mycroft knew everything. Sherlock did not want to lose John’s friendship by admitting that he wanted to experiment with John in more than a friendly situation, so he kept his mouth shut.
Suddenly there was someone plopping down next to him and clicking in front of his face while saying his name, “What?” Sherlock said shaking his head and turning to find the object of his admiration sitting next to him.
“Thanks for coming to watch, Sherlock, you should come to the game on Saturday,” John smiled at him, all sweaty and dirty. Sherlock’s trousers were suddenly a bit tight, his mind didn’t know what was so alluring about dirt and sweat, but apparently his body found it quite appealing.
“You know I never go to the games, John, especially when I already know the outcome, in this case you are going to win this weekend, by three points I would speculate,” Sherlock replied trying to ignore what was going on in his pants.
“Thanks, Sherlock, I hope you’re right. Do you still want me to come over Saturday night?” John asked his friend.
“Yes, I can’t have you out at some pub getting horrendously drunk without me to look out for you, you’re too good natured, people would take advantage of you in all sorts of ways.”
“It’s nice to know you care, Sherlock.”
“Who else would I text at all hours of the day and night?”
John laughed, “Who else would let you text them at all hours of the day and night?”
That Saturday John’s team won by three points just as Sherlock had predicted. John rocked up to Sherlock’s flat at five thirty that night and Mrs Hudson, the land lady, let him in and said that Sherlock was upstairs. John went up the stairs and found Sherlock on the lounge, sitting upright, palms together and finger tips touching his chin. The instant John saw Sherlock he knew the other man was off in his ‘Mind Palace’ as Sherlock called it. John put his overnight bag down and went to stand in front of Sherlock, he pressed his face in close and Sherlock moved ever so slightly forward as if he was going to kiss John, and then came tumbling out of his mind, “John! When did you get here?” he exclaimed.
“Just a minute ago, you were off in your mind, so I figured you’d be a while if I didn’t pull you out,” he replied ignoring the fact that a shiver had run down his spine a moment ago when he thought Sherlock was about to kiss him. No matter how much he said he wasn’t gay, Sherlock was starting to become the exception to his sexuality.
“Thank you, so did you bring the beer?” Sherlock asked. Every time John won his Rugby game they celebrated by drinking beer and watching the telly in Sherlock’s flat.
“Yep, you were right; three points,” John said pulling the six pack of beers out of his bag. They were both light weights when it came to alcohol, so they had both agreed to three beers each and no more.
By nine o’clock the beers had been finished and both men were getting a pleasant buzz. John looked over at Sherlock from the other side of the lounge, noticing how his eye lids were at half-mast and the slight smile tugging at the other man’s lips while he watched the telly. John’s eyes followed when Sherlock’s hand snaked down to unconsciously play with the cord of his pyjama bottoms. It was John’s turn to feel that his pants were a tad tight, then Sherlock looked up at him and smiled, he only smiled like that under the influence of alcohol.
Suddenly it was all too much for John to handle anymore, without warning he moved right up next to Sherlock and leaned against him as John gripped his chin and crushed their lips together kissing him hard.
Sherlock kissed him back with just as much force as sparks went off inside him, he was almost too busy cataloguing all these new feelings but eventually he remembered John’s words “I’m not gay.” He knew John was only kissing him because of the alcohol, and maybe because Sherlock was teasing John a little by playing with the cord of his pyjamas, maybe.
Sherlock reluctantly pushed John away and wouldn’t look at John as he spoke, “I’m sorry, I know you’re only kissing me because of the alcohol, and I won’t ruin what we have by being selfish,” Sherlock gave a short laugh, “Ha. How uncharacteristic of me.”
“What? No! Hang on. I didn’t kiss you because of the alcohol, I did it because I want to, I guess the alcohol just gave me the courage to do it. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t of, I know you’re not interested in that sort of thing...Wait. How are you selfish in this situation?” John’s booze addled brain couldn’t comprehend everything at once.
“I guess it is time to admit something to you, John Watson. You have sparked something in me that I didn’t think was there, I very much wanted to continue kissing you; I only pulled away because I was under the impression that you did not want the same. Are you saying that you are interested in me?”
“Yes, I believe so, and you are saying the same to me?” John was putting two and two together, Sherlock actually deemed him the only one worthy of his affections. ‘Wow’ was the only word for it.
“Yes, John,” Sherlock felt that if it was possible for the heart to swell with happiness, his just might at that moment.
“So, now we’ve established that, can I continue kissing you now?” John asked, alcohol making him bold in his cheerful state.
Sherlock’s expression lit up as he replied, “God yes.”