JOHNLOCK FANFICTION!!!

John peers down the hall. There's a bit of light coming out beneath the bed room door, and sweet music flowing out. 'He's composing,' John notes. 'And he can't sleep either.' "Sherlock?" He asks, pushing the door open.

"Mmm?" Sherlock turns towards him, his long, thin hands still moving across the violin absently, almost stroking it. "Oh, hello, John," he says. God, he manages to make even that sound superior. 'Not that he isn't, ' John thinks. Superior to the rest of human kind, that is.

"Are you thinking about her? Irene Adler? Is that why you can't sleep?" "What? No! No, not at all." "It's OK if you are, you know. It's completely fine." "No, really, John, I wasn't thinking about her!" "You can tell me, you know. You can tell me anything -- "

"Shut up, John! I was thinking about you, fine? Just... shut up, OK?"

"Oh. What about me?" "There's something I need to tell you, John. And I need you to be quiet until I've finished saying it. You can't interrupt me, OK?" "Sure. What is it, Sherlock?" "John, I... I've wanted to say this to you for a long time. And when I finish, you can't say, 'Oh, the great Sherlock Holmes has feelings! Oh, he's human! Me too, mate. You're my buddy.'" "That's not even how I talk! Oh. Right, right. Sorry." "...Because I'm not. Human. I need you to understand that, John. Do you understand that?" "Of course, Sherlock. Now what did you want to tell me?" "I... well, I love you, John." "Well, that's great! I love you too, mate." "No, John, not like that. Not like... a friend. Even though you're the only one I have. Like... Like... I want to kiss you." He says suddenly, looking up. "I want to kiss you, John."

"Then do."

"What?" He pulls what John calls a classic confused Sherlock face.

"Then kiss me." When Sherlock still does nothing, John takes a step forward, holds onto Sherlock's neck, and kisses him.

Sherlock stumbles onto the bed like a drunk man, still caught in John's kiss. He seems to not know what to do with his hands. The door shuts and the loud slamming noise makes them both look up. Sherlock takes this opportunity to pull the covers away and get under them, pulling John after him. He takes his own shirt off first, and John seems so surprised by this that he has to go back to kissing Sherlock. After a few minutes of this, Sherlock pushes him slightly and says, "John, I'm cold. I miss my shirt."

'He's such a little boy,' John thinks, and smiles down at him. "Here, you can have mine. Though I'd rather you don't." He looks at Sherlock's bare chest admiringly as he takes off his own shirt.

"I don't think it would fit, you know. You're quite short." John laughs, then says: "Let's not ruin the moment, shall we?" and back to the kissing they go.

SIX HOURS LATER --- SEVEN A.M.

Mrs. Hudson walks into Sherlock's room. "Sherlock, honey, didn't you hear, there's a client here, and I think John's gone out -- Oh." She gives a giggly sort of laugh as she sees the two men im the bed. Sherlock's arm is spread wide across the bed, and John is sleeping on top of that arm, his own arm on Sherlock's bare chest. Actually, she now notices that they're both bare chested, and she can definitely spot two pyjama pants and a pair of undies on the floor underneath the bed. "Oh," she gives another giggle and quietly exits the room, closing the door after her.

John wakes up first and stretches, making a John sleepy-face. He gets up off the bed, and Sherlock open one eye and asks, "John? Is that you? It's just that I've imagined this night for so long that it's hard to believe that it has actually happened." "No, you haven't," says John. "No, I haven't," agrees Sherlock, and they both laugh madly. Suddenly Sherlock stops and sniffs the air. "Client!" He announces, and gets out of bed, walking towards the door. John pauses in the act of putting his pants on, and says, "Sherlock. Pants." Sherlock looks down at his naked self, and goes, "Oh. Right." He pulls a pair of underwear from the closet, puts on his pants, and resumes his walk towards the door, the awaiting client, and the case. "Sherlock. A shirt." John reminds him yet again.

"Riiight."

When they're both finally ready, they walk out into the hall together and a sleepy John nearly bumps into a tea-carrying Mrs. Hudson. "Oh! Careful, John, dear! You know, I walked into your room this morning, Sherlock, and you won't believe what I find!" Her eyes are glowing, and she winks at them. "What on earth are you talking about, Mrs. Hudson?" Asks Sherlock, while John blushes. "He- I- We- You- Noting happened last night, Mrs. Hudson." "Oh, say whatever you like, dear, but I saw you." She whispers and then nods knowingly. "Now, you don't want to keep the client waiting, dears. Chop chop, in you go. I've even made you all some tea!"

~talll