Baker Street Boys

23

//SMUT WARNING//

"You want to have sex with me," Sherlock announces one evening about a year after John's divorce. John's vigorous denial sparks a three-day wager wherein Sherlock is determined to prove his point, and John is determined to hold onto his heterosexuality.

*Might as well need to skip this part as it contain major smut.

"You want to have sex with me," Sherlock announces.

It is the first time either of them has spoken in about an hour and to say that John is startled is an understatement in the extreme. He chokes on his tea and starts coughing violently. When he can breathe again, Sherlock is still gazing thoughtfully at him, hands steepled in front of his face, waiting patiently for John's response. "What?" John demands, aware that he's red in the face from coughing. He swipes the back of his hand over his mouth. "Excuse me?"

Sherlock is unmoved by his reaction. Without moving his hands, he says, "It's fairly obvious. I just thought I would share my observation with you." He is infuriatingly calm.

John can only stare at him, so many potential responses to choose from that he's completely unable to choose any single one for several moments. Finally he decides against fury or outrage and opts for straight-up negation. "No, I don't."

"You do," Sherlock contradicts him. He waves one of his hands in John's general direction and then re-steeples it. "You'll never act on it, probably, but you want to. It's there, plain to see. You think you hide it very successfully, when you acknowledge it openly to yourself at all – which you normally don't. You're very good at denial. In fact, it may be your single best skill."

He says this as though he's just paid John a compliment. For a second John thinks about getting out of his chair and punching Sherlock in the face, but doing anything physical regarding Sherlock would assuredly just add fuel to Sherlock's argument at the moment. Instead, he clears his throat, adjusts his focus back to the book he was trying to read, and says very calmly, "It's not denial. I just don't want to have sex with you. As it happens, I'm not gay. Which you know."

"You've certainly said it often enough," Sherlock agrees smoothly, and as though it doesn't matter a bit. "As I said: denial."

John is growing increasingly annoyed. He puts his book down again. "I am not in denial!" he says loudly. "It's just a question of knowing who I am, and it's not that. I know what I like."

"You know what you've liked so far," Sherlock corrects him. "But you've thought about it. Fantasised about it, I'd wager. No: you definitely have."

John feels his lips purse and looks Sherlock in the face. "Is this some sort of misdirected attempt to figure out your own sexuality that you're projecting onto me?" He's cross, and it's not fair to bring up Sherlock's own admitted lack of experience, confessed late one night when they'd had too much to drink with dinner. It's not nice to throw that back in his face like this, but John is getting tetchy and Sherlock is obviously trying to start an argument, provoke his temper. "Because," he goes on to say, "of the two of us, I'm the one who's actually had sex – lots of it – and I definitely know what I like."

Sherlock studies him for a long moment, apparently unruffled by John's barb about his own sexuality, then repeats, "Nevertheless, you want to have sex with me. You're attracted to me. It's a fact, John. You can deny it, and I'm sure you'll continue to do so. I wasn't entirely certain for a long time."

John is still finding it difficult to believe that they're having this ridiculous conversation in the first place. "But now you are, are you?"

"Yes," Sherlock informs him placidly. "Quite certain. I just thought I would share my findings with you, given that you're the subject of them."