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A Drunken Mans Words	By : Sherlocked221B Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 4319 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own or have anything to do with the TV series Sherlock on BBC or any of its characters. I make no money from my writing.

Chapter List
- 1-A Drunken Man's Words
- 2-In the Light of Day
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The early morning light creeping through the shade couldn't POSSIBLY be really that bright could it? John closed his eyes again against the harsh intrusion. He was way too old to be drinking that much when out at the pub. Bloody hell. Granted, he had been in MUCH worse shape on several mornings of his youth. But it was still way too early for the sun to be blinding him. John decided he'd just go back asleep until it continued a little further on its course. He sighed heavily and buried his face a little deeper into the curls that were...
John's eyes snapped wide open in panic. Oh no, oh no, oh sweet infant Jesus,no. That wasn't a dream...he'd really taken Sherlock to bed. Oh god. OH GOD. Had they done anything? John wracked his brain...He recalled a bit of an exchange ( a dreadfully embarrassing one) taking place in the sitting room the night before...him saying things he NEVER would of said sober. He recalled Sherlock ushering him to his bed...no...John realized why the glaring sun had been bothering him. He didn't get the sun in the morning in his bed...he got it in the afternoon...he was in Sherlock's bed.
Had Sherlock taken him to his bed? Or had John just gone there of his own accord? Had they...no. No, they couldn't have. John had been in no state last night to perform at all. He was sure he would of remembered something as bedding Sherlock Holmes, The World's First 34 year old Virgin. As well as judging how badly his erection was pushing against Sherlock's arse...
John quickly pulled his hips back from the other man that he was currently...Mother Mary he was spooning his flatmate. Wait...really? Never in all of his day dreaming had he ever imagined Sherlock to allow himself to be the little spoon in this tableau...Although it made sense that someone as cold and seemingly affectionate in his daily life...Whoa Johnny Boy. Now was NOT the time to be analyzing the mechanics of spooning with his best mate. How the hell was he going to get himself out of this mess with even a shred of his dignity remaining?
*****
Unknown to John, Sherlock was wide awake and had been for some time. He had lain awake for hours the night before struggling with whether or not to go sleep on the couch or in John's empty bed. He also spent a great deal of time thinking about his feelings for the man curled into his side. He could state without a doubt that John was the most important person in his life...the first true friend, let alone BEST friend he had had in his entire life. He couldn’t really pinpoint when it had started to take on more feelings...it had been a slow, gradual realization that he felt feelings of more than friendship towards his flatmate.
The whole thing was perplexing, even for Sherlock. Sure, despite what people liked to insinuate, he had felt sexual arousal before. Normally however it wasn't so much directed at a person, as much as it would occur during that residual high following solving a case. He had also had sex before, which people seemed so quickly inclined to disbelieve. As for rumours of his homosexuality (it was really appalling what papers would make into news), he wasn't entirely sure where he had stood on that. He had engaged in sex with both males and females, both of which had not been totally repulsive. He had read a paper one time on how no one was one hundred percent gay or one hundred percent straight...sexuality was a spectrum. As to where he fell on that spectrum he wasn't entirely sure especially at the moment.
When he had awoke, he could tell John was still out cold. His deep, rhythmic breathing, as well as how heavily his arm was draped across Sherlock's waist made it an easy conclusion. He had always been loathe to share his bed with another person but this was not entirely bad. He quite enjoyed how warm and intent he had felt with the other man curled up behind him...their bodies fitting together quite perfectly considering the height difference.
His mind was still drifting lazily through such thoughts when he heard John's sudden, sharp intake of breath behind him. Sherlock lay perfectly still, not sure how his friend would react to this situation. Was he horrified? Had Sherlock made a mistake by staying in the bed with John? Had he crossed a line and created cracks in their friendship that he may not be able to repair? John's rather persistent erection pressing against his backside seemed to indicate John was not totally appalled by the idea...or could that be just from it being the morning and nothing else? Either way, Sherlock's own shorts were rapidly tenting in the front at the thought of John's rock hard...
Sherlock felt John pull himself back from his back...withdrawing his arm as well as all his warmth. Sherlock frowned. Really though...was else was he to expect in such a situation. John, no matter what his feelings for Sherlock, was clearly unsure of the whole situation. Sherlock was not entirely sure how to react either, and chose to lay still and continue to feign sleep allowing John to sneak out if he so chose and avoid a very awkward conversation.
*****
John's heart was pounding. He had never been so unsure of how to proceed in a situation in hos entire life. Should he say something? He was sure Sherlock had to be awake by this point...but what should he say? Should he apologize for the night before? Should he maybe broach the topic of what this meant to their friendship? Should he ask if Sherlock had lube in here or if he should run upstairs and retrieve his own...
John almost groaned. No. He couldn't continue down that track right now. Or could he? Sherlock had obviously chosen to stay in the bed with him, all night at that. He also seemed to have no objections to John snuggling up to him either. Maybe he should just relax, let things play out and see where it went...
John scooted himself back over in the bed towards Sherlock, snaking his arm around the other man's waist again. To his surprise he felt the other man lean back against him, his hand coming over to entwine his fingers with John's. How long had John been waiting for those hands to touch his? He had known for some time that if there had been a way to progress his relationship with Sherlock without jeopardizing the friendship that he would in a heartbeat...Granted, John had never been with a man before sexually...sure, he had found a select few attractive over the years, and had even scared a few drunken kisses with army buddies, but this was all new territory for him. He just decided to move forward as he would of in the past with a woman in his bed...
John started to slowly kiss the back of Sherlock's neck, his face buried in those beautiful curls. He felt Sherlock tense briefly, then shiver, goosebumps erupting along his porcelain flesh. This was quite new for Sherlock as well. While having had sex before, it had been fairly...clinical? A mutually beneficial endeavour benefiting both parties biological needs. There had been no real intimacy. John's fingers unclasped from his own and railed so painfully slow over his stomach, tentative fingers just brushing his throbbing member and...
“My god man, are you really so lazy as to sleep in past noon?” There was a sharp rap on the bedroom door, which opened abruptly without allowing anyone time to grant access and to the absolute horror of both men, Mycroft Holmes strode into the room. “How to you ever manage to get any work done when you...” the older man trailed off as he took in what was apparently going on before him. Sherlock in all his infinite wisdom, made things 1000 times worse by jumping up out of bed in nothing but his strained shorts and trying to physically usher his brother from the room. John could here Mycroft also commenting about his surprise of Sherlock being the little spoon as Sherlock gave John a pained look and slammed the bedroom door shut behind him. John groaned and buried his face in his pillow, wishing he'd wake up from what had to be the worst nightmare he'd ever had...
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A Drunken Mans Words