Cuddling on a Rainy Night - Johnlock

Cuddling on a Rainy Night

The rain splattered against the windows of 221B Baker Street, inside Sherlock lay with his long body stretched out on the couch. He hated the rain. It was so boring, they couldn't go out or do anything, there was no cases for him to solve, he couldn't even do any experiments as John had got rid of the rotting fingers he had been storing in the fridge. Sherlock opened his eyes and glanced over at John. He was sitting on his armchair, engrossed in a book, The Hobit, to be precise. Somehow John didn't find the rain boring, he looked completely relaxed unlike the fidgeting detective beside him. He had taken off his jumper 32 minutes ago, it was Sherlock's favourite, the beige one, the one he had worn on their very first case, on their very first date. No, not a date, it wasn't a date, John had said so himself. Underneath the jumper, John had been wearing a thin white button up, which was all he had on now. He wore his usual trousers but he had kicked his shoes off, wearing only a pair of bright red socks. As much as Sherlock loved his usual soft cuddly jumper look, he couldn't deny that this current look was very, very, hot.

"Sherlock, what's up? You're staring." John said, his eyes flicking up to Sherlock from behind his book.

Oh no, he's caught me, oh god.

"Why aren't you bored?" Sherlock decided to voice part of what he had been thinking about. A very small part, a part that wouldn't get him kicked out in the rain if he voiced it. He needed to stop thinking of John in that way, John would never love him back. No, not love, not love you don't love John, you don't love anyone. You are a sociopath, sociopaths don't love.

"Hmmm?" Was the only sound that came out of John's mouth. I could think of a few other sounds I'd like to hear out of that mouth. No bad Sherlock, bad. John dog-eared the page he was reading, placing his book down on the coffee table and rotating his body to face Sherlock, giving him his full attention.

"Why aren't you completely and utterly bored? Why aren't you itching to go out and do something? Anything?"

"The rain is calming. It's peaceful to listen to."

"But there's nothing to do!" Sherlock wined, his voice rising ever so slightly in pitch.

"There's plenty to do."

"Like what?" Sherlock threw his legs up, twisting his body so that he was sitting upright on the couch. He was closer to John now, very close, too close.

John gulped, a very visible, almost audible, gulp. Was it because of the closeness in proximity? No, it couldn't be, John did like men like that, he didn't like Sherlock like that. What else could it be then? It must be whatever he was about to say next. Whatever it was, was causing John to become very nervous, very quickly.

"Well you can read a book, or watch Telly, and well, um, couples. Couples, um generally like cuddling and uh stuff." John awkwardly stumbled out the sentence. Was he insinuating something? Was that a suggestion? No it wasn't Sherlock, you know it wasn't.

"Cuddling?"

"Yeah you know, with your arms around each other and, uh, shared body heat and clo-"

"I know what cuddling is, John." Sherlock said, cutting off the doctors rambles, to which he seemed greatful for.

"Right, yes well, I thought you may have deleted it, you know like the solar system." A smile began to spread across John's face as he poked fun of his flat mate.

"Is that what you want to do?" Sherlock began deducing John, just ever so slightly, the man was clearly feeling a little touched deprived, I know the feeling, he was in the need of something, a hug, a kiss maybe? But from a specific person, his girlfriend probably. Maybe John was just a bored as him, just as wanting to go do something, or someone, as Sherlock was. Maybe he was just better at hiding it. "I can call a cab for you? That way you won't be out in the rain long, and you can go see, uh what was her name?"

"Jeniffer and I broke up three weeks ago Sherlock."

"But I deduced that you were in need of physical contact with a person you loved, I'm never wrong John, your pupils were dilated when you were thinking of her."

John stared at Sherlock, his mouth slightly agape, "I wasn't thinking of her." His voice dropping to a whisper, and he began to rotate his body away from Sherlock.

"Then who is it? Who are you thinking of if not her?"

"If you're so clever why don't you just deduce me?!" John snapped.

Sherlock let out a sigh, "John you know I'm not good with the emotions of others, I'm not even good a deducing my own emotions, it took me months to work out that I was in love with you."

"You're what?" John's eyes widened, he was in complete and utter shock.

Oh great, just great, now I'm really going to be kicked out in the rain, all because I couldn't keep my mouth shut and admire John from afar. He stood up abruptly, turning around and making his way to his room as quickly as possible. But he didn't get there. He felt John's hand grab forcefully onto his wrist, turning his around to face him. His pupils are dilated, his heart beat is racing, he was about t- Sherlock's deductions were cut off by the force of John shoving him against the wall. He was right, John was angry, John was going to kick him out, he was going to-

John pressed his lips against Sherlock's and pushed him roughly against the wall again. Suddenly every thought in his head fell away, leaving only John, his John. His lips began to move in sinc with the other man's, his mind savoring the taste of his mouth. His hands snaked around John's waist, gripping the back of his shirt and pulling him closer, he wanted him closer, impossibly closer. John's grip on him tightened, his tongue ran along Sherlock's bottom lip, he pushed Sherlock harder against the wall, one hand gripping his sides as the other made its way up to his hair. He gave Sherlock's hair a tug, and Sherlock moaned against his mouth. John pushes his tongue inside Sherlock's mouth and Sherlock's grip on Johns shirt became tighter, as if he was trying to tear the very fabric off of his doctor. Sherlock could feel his muscles underneath, strong and tensed.

He ran his hands up and down John's back, smiling into the kiss. He didn't know how long they had been like this, he just knew he never wanted it to stop. It was perfect, and it was theirs. John was finally, hopefully, his, his Watson, his blogger, his doctor, his love, his John.

When John finally broke the kiss, he kept his eyes closed, resting his forehead against the detective, panting.

"What do you deduce now?" He breathed out.

"That you, uh, you like me?" Sherlock couldn't bring himself to say the word, maybe John just needed to let out some bottled up sexual frustration at the lack of a romantic partner, and Sherlock has just been convenient, needy and convenient.

John let out a low chuckle, "I love you, you stupid git, I've always loved you, from the day we met."

Sherlock stares down at the smaller man in his arms, he loved him? He really loved him? This time Sherlock initiated the kiss, pulling John against him. "I love you" he whispered against his mouth.

The kiss was shorter, but slower and sweeter. John pulled away, taking Sherlock's hand in his and leading him towards the couch.

"What are we doing?" Sherlock asked, allowing himself to be dragged around.

John sat down, pulling the detective down with him, "we're cuddling on the couch on a rainy night."

Sherlock lay his head on his bloggers shoulder, slowly he felt himself drifting off to sleep. Just before he lost consciousness, he felt John place a soft kiss in his hair.

The consulting detective feel asleep, the ghost of a smile still etched across his face.

Some of you may recognize this from my Johnlock Oneshots book, if not please feel free to check it out, and any of the other Johnlock stories on my page!