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Those Seven Confusing Weeks	By : IDontKnowWhatImDoing Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 3832 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any associated characters, and do not profit from this work.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
John woke up the next morning to an empty flat. He had fallen asleep early the day before and never heard if Sherlock had returned home. Hopefully Sherlock was just giving him time to think. He really, really hoped that was all but couldn't help being worried that it might be something else.
And by the time he was ready to leave for work he had worried himself into a nervous fit. He called in with an excuse and decided to wait for Sherlock to come home.
John had told him that he would never again say they needed to talk but he wanted to give him the answer to that question from yesterday and possibly get Sherlock to open up a little. Not needing to talk but asking if they could. He kept trying to plan out what to say so that he didn't make Sherlock uncomfortable but everything sounded like it would come out wrong.
Waiting for Sherlock to return home or to text him about lunch was causing John's anxiety to increase rapidly. When his phone finally signaled that it had a text he was so tense that the vibration in his back pocket made him jump.
Where would you like to meet for lunch?
-the flat?
Ok. When?
-now?
You're not at work?
-no.
There was a long delay before the next text appeared.
Why?
-waiting for you to come home
He didn't reply for so long that John got concerned Sherlock wasn't going to send one. After an agonizing few minutes he got a response.
I'm on my way
.. ..
John was sitting in his usual spot on the couch when Sherlock returned, trying really hard not to show his stress. Sherlock didn't enter the room. Standing in the doorway he appeared to be studying John before committing to any actions. Then he turned abruptly and went into his room, closing the door.
'Fuck, that didn't go very well.'
After a few minutes John was just about leave for his own room when Sherlock reappeared wearing his comfortable clothes; pants, t-shirt and robe.
With a hesitant smile he joined John on the couch and got in his usual spot, resting up against him. This only made John more nervous. Sherlock seemed so relaxed that John didn't want ruin his good mood and make him flee the room.
Sighing, John decided to try. "Sherlock, can we talk for a while today?"
The lack of response wasn't a good sign.
"We don't have to, it's fine. But it would be...nice...if we could, you know...talk a little."
Damn the silent was torture. One last attempt and he was going to drop it. His nerves were stretched too thin.
"So maybe we could for a bit?...You don't have to say anything you don't want to and if you get uncomfortable we can stop."
When Sherlock moved away John swore at himself. He had pushed too much and Sherlock was going to walk out.
Instead of leaving Sherlock repositioned himself. Leaning back on the armrest he was fully up on the couch facing John. Tucking his legs up so that his bare feet were very near but not touching John's leg.
His solemn expression as he stared made John think this had been a very bad idea. Then his lips curled up into a smirk and he said, "Those terms are acceptable." And when John looked confused he started laughing.
John didn't know if he should hit him or laugh with him. The bastard had seen how nervous he was and had been toying with him. He settled for some swearing.
"Fucking hell Sherlock. That's not funny."
Sherlock started wiggling his toes against John's leg and smiled at him. "What do you want to talk about?"
John was momentarily stunned by Sherlock being so agreeable to talk considering a few days ago just the idea of a discussion had distressed him. And it wasn't just agreeable he was downright playful. What had gotten into him.
He might as well go for it then. And John tried to prepare himself for a bunch of 'mmm's and 'why?'s.
"It's not just the attention I like."
"Ok."
"I..."
Sherlock interrupted him and repeated "Ok."
John hadn't prepared for that. A simple word to sum up that he understood completely and was perfectly fine with John's answer.
The temptation to smack Sherlock returned but this time he did laugh. He got it now. In those few minutes before he had gone to change clothes Sherlock had figured out what John had wanted to say, what John had realized about his feelings for Sherlock and saw no need to discuss it further.
Well that solved that. But maybe he could keep going. With Sherlock's good mood maybe he could to get some answers to his own questions but he would have try not to make him uncomfortable.
"Why do you like watching me so much?"
"I thought that was apparent. As I already said, you're intriguing."
"Then explain how I'm intriguing. You never answered me the first time I asked."
Sherlock didn't say anything for a bit. John wondered if he was already pushing too much or if Sherlock was deciding how to answer.
With sincerity he finally said "Because no matter how much I think I understand you, you continue to surprise me."
"I surprise you?"
"Yes."
John faltered. It was so incredibly flattering that he could surprise the genius detective he didn't know what to say to that.
Then Sherlock did that thing he had gotten so good at for when John doesn't know what to say. Putting his hand on John's knee he said "Let's get some lunch." And he got up went into the kitchen.
It took John a few minutes before he followed him still a little stunned, flattered and thinking about that Sherlock's hand on his knee.
.. ..
While John ate and Sherlock stared at him with a sweet grin John composed himself enough to try for some more answers.
"Sherlock?"
"Yes?"
"What brought all this on? What happened that made you want to...that made you decide to…"
Sherlock touched John's hand. "You're toast is getting cold"
"Stop that!"
"Stop what?"
"Oh my god you know what."
He could see Sherlock trying not to laugh. "Just tell me what made you want me, you twit."
Sherlock faked a serious expression. It looked almost ridiculous.
"You're not going to tell me are you?"
"Someday, just not now."
"Why the hell not?"
Instead of answering he started eating his untouched lunch, still watching him.
John surprised himself at how well he was understanding his bizarre flat mate. Sherlock enjoyed watching John's reactions so much that he was doing all this on purpose. And though it might not just be the attention he liked, John enjoyed it immensely.
.. ..
Throughout the afternoon John asked and Sherlock sometimes answered a number of questions until later that evening when John asked one that led to a turning point in their relationship. Plus the added bonus of giving John a good example of how he can surprise Sherlock.
They were back on the couch. Sherlock was leaning on his shoulder while tracing circles on John's hand while John was running his fingers through Sherlock's hair.
"So what's going on with you and Mycroft?"
"Pardon?"
"The phone calls, those times you went out to meet with him?"
The finger stopped moving on his hand and he felt Sherlock's body stiffen. Damn it, John had just given away that he knew of their late night meeting a few nights ago.
"I...I thought it might be about some case."
Sherlock sat back and had that look again. The 'I want to run and hide in my bedroom' look.
John immediately regretted mentioning Mycroft. Having gotten so wrapped up in Sherlock being comfortable he had forgotten how fragile he still was when faced with something he didn't want to talk about. John was going to drop it but saw that it might be too late when Sherlock abruptly got up from the couch.
John started to ask him to stay, to say that it wasn't important, when he saw that instead of walking to his room Sherlock went to one of the bookshelves. Pulling out two of John's books he grabbed the pack of cigarettes that John had hidden and came back to sit up on the couch. They were now sitting up on opposite sides facing each other.
Normally John would have been annoyed that Sherlock was throwing away two months of being cigarette free or just laughed at himself at how pathetic his hiding spot had been but neither of those things happened.
Sherlock had lit a cigarette and taken long deep drag. To avoid blowing the smoke at John he turned his head far back and exhaled slowly.
When he turned back to take another hit he froze with the cigarette inches from his lips. Sherlock had simply got a cigarette to stay calm when the question of Mycroft had come up but the effect was profound. It just barely registered at the back of John's mind that his reaction had surprised Sherlock but that was overshadowed by what was at the front of his mind
It might have been the combination of it all that caused his reaction but it added up to one simple thought.
A combination of Sherlock's thin robe and t-shirt, his long legs pulled up close. Lips pursed as he took the long drag with his eyes closed. The way his delicate fingers held the cigarette as he inhaled deeply. His neck stretching, muscles taut when he turned his head. The way his mouth parted when he slowly exhaled. And damn, when he licked his lips as he turned back to John with a slight intoxicated look as the nicotine hit his system.
One simple thought. Sherlock looked amazingly sexy.
For the first time John was wildly turned on by his flat mate without any physical contact.
John's eyes were huge, he was breathing fast and his mouth had fallen open while he just stared in awe, which obviously surprised Sherlock.
And Sherlock stared back in amazement. Then a fiery lust washed over him and he bit his lower lip making John moan.
"Oh...my god."
Sherlock mashed out the cigarette quickly and moved forward. Not touching John in any way Sherlock leaning over him supporting himself with a hand on the top of the couch and one to the side of him.
Inches from John's face he was breathing deep. His eyes shined with desire which turned John on even more. And Sherlock seemed to be drinking it up. The more Sherlock looked temptingly wanton above him the more aroused John became which made Sherlock even wilder.
He closed his eyes and inhaled deep as if he was savoring John's hunger for him then moved his lips so close to John's ear he could feel Sherlock's heated breath.
They were still not touching and John had never been more turned on.
Sherlock purred into his ear, "Intriguing," and then nipped his earlobe.
"Oh my...God...Sherlock"
Then all hell broke loose.
Sherlock kissed him hard. John grabbed the back of Sherlock's head trying to crush their lips together and Sherlock's body fell onto him as he wrapped his arms around John.
The feeling of their bodies together made the kiss desperate. Their mouths opened and tongues sought each other with intensity. They both were moaning as lips and tongues couldn't get enough. It was the most erotic kiss John had ever experienced.
Sherlock's hand snaked down his back. When it reached his waist Sherlock pulled John's shirt out from his jeans and slid a hand up onto his skin. His fingers running across John's flesh was like kindle to a flame, his hips canted up against Sherlock causing them both to groan.
The grip in Sherlock's hair tighten as John tried to force their mouths even closer. His other hand gripped Sherlock's hip as both their bodies were writhing and grinding against each other.
Sherlock ran his hand across to John's chest causing him to arch back into the couch.
It was all so intensely hot. John's mind was overrun with sensations until Sherlock's hand moved down to his waist. The need for Sherlock to move his hand lower was overwhelming but it was too much, too fast. Though his body was ready to completely let go a part of his mind tried to claw its way to the surface.
He pulled back from Sherlock's lips. Between heavy, ragged breathing he tried to speak. "Sherlock…." He didn't want this to stop but was so afraid of freaking out. "I…please…" Sherlock slid his hand from John's waist and dropped his forehead onto John's cheek.
They were both out of breath. John was still having trouble forming words. "need...to...slow down"
"Shhh."
Sherlock lightly kissed him then slid down off the couch to sit on the floor and rested his head on John's leg.
John was lightheaded and hating himself. He felt like an arse. As they both got themselves under some control John wanted to say how sorry he was.
Sherlock quietly spoke, "Please don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't be sorry."
"But I am."
Sherlock reached up taking John's hand and held it against his face.
"It's fine, John."
"It's not fine."
He kisses his hand softly, "Yes it is."
John stretched out and turned on his side. Running his fingers through Sherlock's hair while he stayed sitting on the floor holding John's hand against his face.
They didn't talk for a long time until Sherlock reminded John that he should probably go to sleep soon.
.. ..
He got to his room and after about an hour of not even trying to sleep John went back downstairs to see if Sherlock was still up. There was no plan. He wasn't going to try to talk or try to work out his feelings. He just didn't want to be alone.
Sherlock was in his bedroom. The door was ajar and the light was on. John wasn't sure what to do.
Sherlock must have heard him and called out. "John, is everything ok?"
"I…." He opened the door but didn't enter the room.
Sherlock was lying on top of his bed with a journal on his lap. "We can talk more if it will help."
"In here?"
"Or out there. Whichever you prefer." His smile was so kind that John felt that twinge in his chest coupled with quilt.
Walking into Sherlock's room he sat down at the end of the bed. A few minutes passed and John said, "Tell me about what you're reading?"
And so he did.
As Sherlock talked about a bunch of scientific things that were meaningless to him, he eventually laid down on his side. A few minutes later Sherlock stopped talking and moved closer. Resting his head on John's back and wrapping an arm around his chest, John pulled him closer and drifted to sleep.

It was a weird feeling waking up in his flat mate's bed with fingers running through his hair but it wasn't unpleasant.
"Good morning." He didn't know what else to say.
Sherlock kissed his neck. "You need to get ready for work."
.. ..
John lasted about two hours before giving up and leaving work early. He was too distracted to concentrate on his patients. He hoped Sherlock would be at the flat and if not he was going to call him. Waiting for a text was not an option at this point.
But when he got home not only was Sherlock there but John could hear him talking to someone. The voices went quiet as he made it way up the stairs.
The last person he expected to see was sitting in the recliner.
"Hello Mycroft."
"Ah. Hello John."
Sitting on the couch Sherlock was a cross between annoyed at this brother's presence and surprised that John was home so early. John sat down next him.
Mycroft was sitting in the recliner, legs crossed, appearing as smug as ever. "So, how are you then John?"
"I'm fine."
Sherlock glanced over at John then returned his focus back to Mycroft.
"That's good." Mycroft wasn't looking at John when he spoke. He attention was on Sherlock.
John looked back and forth between them. There was something unpleasant going with them, more than their normal animosity.
"And how are you Mycroft?"
"Oh very well John. Thank you."
John noticed one of Sherlock's hands was clenched into a very tight fist. His knuckles were white. His brother never made him so upset that he let it show. What the hell was going on.
"So John, Sherlock and I were just discussing your recent..."
"Mycroft!"
Sherlock snapped so loud John flinched. His eyes burning with anger.
At this point, as John once tried to explain to Sherlock, time seemed to slow. Of course Sherlock said he was just romanticizing the moment as time slowing down was clearly not possible but that's what it felt like as all pieces fell into place.
As Sherlock glared icy daggers at his brother, John saw that Mycroft was now grinning at him.
What the sodding shite was happening...then the first piece fell. Fucking hell Mycroft knew. He knew about Sherlock and him. He knew how difficult it was for Sherlock and the complete twat was goading Sherlock. Teasing him. Purposely doing it in front of John to make it all that much worse.
But why? Was he trying to make Sherlock suffer for caring. To make John suffer for being the reason his brother cared. Is that what he had been doing all this time with those phone calls and meetings? He remembered what Sherlock had said to Mycroft while on the phone the other day. "I don't care what you're concerns are."
That fucking bastard. John almost couldn't bare it. His poor Sherlock had not only been dealing with all the crap that John had been giving him but his own brother was also making him hurt, suffer.
And for the second time John's heart broke when he thought about how much Sherlock had been coping with. And yet last night after more of John's crap he had invited John to talk to make him feel better never once asking for comfort in return.
Then all the rest of the pieces fell and John finally saw the complete picture. Not his understanding of Sherlock but everything that made him 'his Sherlock'.
From that first night taking John on a chase through the streets of London making him forget all about his limp to sending 40 plus text messages in one day to get his attention.
From the deep chuckle he made when John complained about being called an idiot to impressing him by solving cases so fast it made all of Scotland Yard look like a knitting club.
From rolling his eyes with a hint of a grin when John sighed the first time he came home to find Sherlock walking around the flat in just his sheet to playing their 'find the riding crop game' that gave them so much amusement.
From not understanding why John would have a problem with a jar full of fingers in their fridge to knowing just how to distract John when he was having troubling figuring out what to say.
From the obsessive need to wear gloves when he went out just incase he had to shake someone's hand but removing them when he held John's hand in the cab to his tender touch that sent a thrill throughout John's entire body.
From not having a clue on how to deal with caring so much that it was causing him pain right at this moment to the patience and understanding he gave John while he tried to figure out his own feelings for Sherlock.
His beautiful friend, his brilliant detective, his socially inept colleague, his sexy as hell flat mate, his perfect in all his flaws Sherlock.
And there it was. It didn't matter that he was John 'I'm not gay' Watson.
He was completely in love with Sherlock Holmes.
Time returned to normal and all he wanted to do now was permanently make things right.
Ignoring that Mycroft was still there John reached over and put his hand on top Sherlock's balled up fist. John lifted it to his lips and placed a loving kiss on the back of his hand.
Sherlock turned to look at John, his anger was replaced by shock. And it only took a moment for shock to be replaced by the most wonderful smile.
"John..." He seemed at a loss for words.
Another kiss and John smiled back. "Intriguing?"
With wide watery eyes, his lip slightly trembling, Sherlock simply said. "Very."
There was silence between them as at long last 'something more' was loud and clear.
They didn't pay attention to Mycroft when he stood up and said "Well I see things are better than fine." Both missed the pleased look on his face as he left and a few weeks later when John finally learned of how Mycroft had manipulated both of them to help get their relationship on track John didn't thank him because, well he really can be a dick.
John leaned over and for the first time he made the first move by kissing Sherlock.
And very quickly they were all mouths, lips and hands. They eventually worked their way to Sherlock's, soon to be their bedroom, and spent the last day of those seven confusing weeks knowing they both wanted the same thing.
And over the next week as they explored and experienced all of each other, Sherlock was ever so patient and John didn't freak out. Completely at ease, no more confusion, no more denial. John didn't care that he was sharing a bed with another man. That he was dating his best mate. Or that he would from now on refer to Sherlock as his lover.
- 10
- 11
- 12
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Those Seven Confusing Weeks