Johnlock One-shots

208.Wanting Affection

John tapped his fingers on his armrest, one foot crossed over the knee of the other and shaking up and down like a dog's tail.

He was anticipating a very important question. He wanted affection, he just felt affectionate and he really wanted to hold someone or cuddle.

But the problem was: he had no lover. No girlfriend, no boyfriend… but he did have his friend Sherlock, who was laying on the couch and thinking. John wanted to know if he was allowed to just walk over to his friend and start kissing him or something. They always had a sort of sexual tension between them. Would he mind?

Sherlock looked stressed and involved in an intense thought process. It would be nice for him to have a break… right?

John stood up, fidgeting with his hands as he walked over to the couch, a nervous expression on his face. He slowly lowered himself, crawling onto Sherlock and laying on top of him.

There was no speaking, only silence as Sherlock's thin, gentle arms wrapped around John's body and pulled him closer, pretty much hugging him. The movement confused John, but he graciously accepted it, the tension leaving him as he held Sherlock and started to cuddle with him, head rested on the other man's chest and hands buried in the soft and fluffy curls.

This only became more sweet when John rolled off Sherlock and laid next to the man. Sherlock turned onto his side, staring into John's eyes. He put his hands on John's waist, leaning in and kissing him softly.

Excited that he was getting the affection that he so greatly wanted, John leant into the kiss, licking his lips and Sherlock's in the process.

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Oh, hello. Today is Nov 7th of 2019. I don't remember when I wrote this chapter, but it must have been a long time ago. I've been feeling sort of Johnlocky recently, and I saw a comment on this chapter and then I read the chapter and D:< EWW FUCK!! GROSS. BAD, LEONARD!! BAD CHAPTER.

REWRITTEN.

John was sitting in his chair, sunken into the back of it with his legs crossed, a foot shaking up and down in an attempt to expel some of the anxiety building tension in his chest.

The doctor had a complex expression on his face. He was feeling terribly alone, and his lack of friends was fueling the fire of it.

He had no lover, and could only call Sherlock a good friend. Sherlock, who was laying on the couch, his fingertips pressed together under his chin.

John put a cheek in his hand and sunk back a little more. He crossed his arms and sunk to the point where the small of his back was at the edge of his chair.

He stood up out of his chair and walked to his friend on the couch. "Hey." John said.

Sherlock didn't respond. John was hungry for attention. He knelt down and rested a hand over Sherlock's wrist. "Hey." He said again.

The consulting detective didn't make any acknowledging motion beside slowly removing his arms from his chest, inviting John to get closer.

A small smile pulled at John's lips. He didn't question the gesture and moved in. He got on top of Sherlock, then sunk into the place between him and the couch.

He felt a warm hand on his waist, then the softest, most gentle arm wrap around him.

Sherlock shifted his body a little and let John use one of his arms like a pillow. He pulled John closer.

They laid there just like that for awhile, then John draped an arm across Sherlock's body and tangled their legs together.

There was another few moments of stillness before Sherlock rested his head on the top of John's. He could smell his shampoo and conditioner, and named the brand in his mind. He could also smell his cologne, which smelled so John this close up that Sherlock was nearly swept away.

Sherlock curled his fingers into John's sweater and held him a little closer. He pressed his lips against the smaller man's forehead, then rested his face against his soft hair.

John closed his eyes and smiled.