Just Some Johnlock Oneshots

Opposites Attract Part 2

Bright light hit John's eyelids, startling him into blinking them open. He squinted his eyes at the bright light filtering through the crack in the curtains. The blonde plopped his head back onto his pillow and let out a groan.

Just as John was beginning to fall asleep again, his eyes shot open as he sat upright. "Shit!" He whispered under his breath. Being a Saturday, all John wanted to do was sleep until noon, but he forgot other plans had been made. "Stupid Sherlock, insisting we meet on a Saturday morning."

John stumbled around his room, rushing to look presentable while being half asleep. Finally he pulled on a pair of black biker shorts, a super oversized cream sweater that draped off one shoulder, some white socks with two black stripes around the top, and a pair of black slides. Once dressed, John ran to the bathroom to clean up and apply a little bit of makeup. Although he was late, he still wanted to look good for his crush. Even if that boy ruined his morning plans. Satisfied with his appearance, the high schooler jogged down the steps to the ground floor, said a quick hi and bye to his parents, hit his shoulder on the door frame, and finally stepped out onto the sidewalk.

Luckily, Sherlock lived just a few blocks down, so John just did his typical gay speed walk and made it there in no time. A little bit out of breath, he approached the cute little red house and rang the doorbell. There were a few moments of silence before a loud crash resounded from inside.

Before John could begin to question what that sound was, Sherlock's curly head peeked around the oak door frame. The taller boy cleared his throat. "Um, hey."

Although he was a bit grumpy this morning, John managed a smile and a nice hi back. The pair stood there for a moment, Sherlock looking like he wanted to run back inside and John shuffling his feet.

"Oh, you can come in," Sherlock muttered and opened the door the rest of the way.

"Thanks, I was worried you were going to leave me there all morning," John joked.

Sherlock glared at him and John was surprised to see the taller boy's eyes unlined. Sherlock was still wearing all black with a muscle tank top with armholes that swooped low, showing off Sherlock's pale skin. Sherlock lifted his arm to ruffle his hair, giving John a heart attack. The blond couldn't seem to tear his eyes from the expanse of Sherlock's torso the action revealed. Damn.

John was pulled from his silent admiration when Sherlock let out a sigh. "We do actually have to get work done, you can't just stare at me all morning," the asshole said with a cheeky smirk.

John just scoffed and pushed his way into the house. "Fine. Let's get to work then."

Sherlock motioned for John to follow him, and the brunet led John up a flight of stairs and down a hall. The house had nice dark floors with simply painted walls. A few pictures were hung up, and John slowed his pace to look at them. Before Sherlock yanked him away, John managed to glimpse a young Sherlock hugging a red dog with a pirate hat almost sliding off his unruly curls.

"Aww," John smiled before he could stop himself.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and scoffed, but John could see a light pink blush settle across the other boy's cheeks. Sherlock opened a dark wood door that revealed a bedroom filled with clutter.

Biting his lip, John hesitated in the doorway. Sherlock flung himself onto his bed dramatically, upsetting the already messy covers.

Sherlock lifted his curly head with an annoyed sound. "Come on, John. Are you so afraid to sit on my bed?"

The boy in question cleared his throat and shuffled into the room. The walls were covered in newspaper clippings, scientific charts, and maps. A desk was overflowing with notebook papers and glass vials filled with questionable substances. John knew Sherlock was an odd boy, but his room looked like one that belonged to an insane conspirator.

"It's just info about unsolved cases, I'm not planning for the end of the world," Sherlock chuckled at John's concerned expression.

"Cases?"

"Yeah, crimes that haven't been solved yet," Sherlock lifted himself off the bed and over to the wall covered with the most newspapers. "I intend to solve them."

Just as John was about to say how absurd that was, Sherlock spoke. "In order to solve them, I need time. So we need to get this stupid project done quickly."

"You're always in such a great mood," John muttered. Sherlock rolled his eyes and John finally gained the courage to sit on the bed. "So... Emily Dickinson. Uh so...yeah."

"Very inspiring, John. Like you suggested, we'll split up the assigned questions so we get about an even number of easier and harder ones." Before John could agree, Sherlock began scribbling down who gets which question on a notebook he had pulled from somewhere (John couldn't tell where because Sherlock's room was so messy). The pale boy shoved a piece of notebook paper at John that had his questions to answer.

"Oh, thanks... So what do you want the main idea or concept we emphasize throughout the presentation to be?" John asked.

"Well, it's kinda widely known that Dickinson wrote a lot about death. We could do why she wrote about it. In doing some initial research, it seemed that she was impacted by multiple deaths of friends and family. Her feelings of grief inspired some poems," Sherlock spoke while flipping through his notebook, overviewing notes he had jotted down.

"Yeah, that sounds like it'd be good...I'm surprised you're actually cooperating today," John teased.

"I have a reputation to keep up. I can't be seen with a flamboyant gay being a nerd. It would look bad."

John couldn't hold back his laughter. "You're so weird," he giggled.

Sherlock scoffed like he was offended. "You're weirder!"

"Am not!"

"You are!"

The boys giggled a little, and John realized how absolutely adorable Sherlock looked. Curled up at his footboard, the pale boy had his knees pulled up to his chest with his bare feet poking out, and his chin resting on his knees. John caught himself staring once again. He blushed and looked down at his notebook.

"You keep doing that," Sherlock commented.

"Hmm, what?" John asked, glancing around the room.

"Don't play stupid. Well I guess you are a little stupid." John scoffed. "But if you look at me like that again, I may just have to kiss you," Sherlock finished with a devilish smirk.

John's jaw dropped and his face burned hot. "You wouldn't."

Sherlock scooted closer to John. "Are you sure about that?" John leaned back, causing his back to softly bump against the bed's headboard. Sherlock still had that gleam in his eye, although it had softened into something more caring.

The taller boy leaned forward on one arm, hovering above John. John's stomach was tumbling as he stared at the beautiful boy who was almost on top of him. The blond fluttered his baby blue eyes closed and Sherlock flushed lips met his.

A rush of excitement and pure joy rushed through each boy. It was so overwhelming, Sherlock's arm collapsed. He fell on top of John, causing their foreheads to bump.

"Ow!" John gasped. He rubbed his palm over the affected spot and began to laugh. Sherlock joined in and wrapped his arms around the smaller boy, tucking his curly head into John's neck.

"I guess you still are an asshole," John giggled.

Sherlock smiled before pressing another kiss to John's lips. This time it was absolutely perfect because Sherlock had properly positioned his arm.

"Will you be my flamboyant gay boyfriend?" Sherlock asked after pulling away.

"Only if you'll be my goth nerd boyfriend."

"I think I can agree to that."

I did just a smidge of research for this (not much cuz I'm writing an 8 page research paper for school and am tired of it) and here's the link in case any of you are interested (and I don't want to plagiarize): https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/emily-dickinson