And Together We Fell (prev. "Teenlock") - An AU Sherlock/Johnlock Fanfic

Chapter 19

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Guys.

I'm so unbelievably happy.

I'm actually typing this really slowly, because my dog has decided to fall asleep on my legs, so I have to kind of... tilt the laptop on one side and try not to annoy him, because even though my legs will fall asleep and I'll trip down the stairs, he's keeping my legs really really warm.

You may now proceed!

JOHN'S P.O.V

"Whaa--"

I blinked my eyes open, the sunlight seeping through a gap in the curtains as I lay in my bed.

It took me half a minute to register I was fully clothed.

It took me another half minute to register that Sherlock was in here with me.

Our hands were entwined, and his legs were tucked over mine. His breath was sending the lightest of shivers down my spine, and his hair tickled the back off my head. Yesterday lunchtime immediately came back to me, and a warm, fuzzy feeling grew as a little ball inside of me.

After the piano room... session, we had to go to our next lessons, which were separate from each other. It was more or less impossible to separate from each other, after literally what happened the few minutes ago, but when I came back to my dorm at the end of the last lesson there was a hastily scribbled note from Sherlock explaining he had three detentions in a row; quite a feat. I tried staying up, but I just fell asleep. I guess he came in soon after and fell in my bed.

My eyes flittered to the clock on the wall. 8:30. I knew I had to get up, and it was almost impossible for me to will myself up. However, the second I tried sitting up, Sherlock's arm gripped my waist tight, pulling me back down. He mumbled something.

"Sherlock, we've got to get up." Once again I tried to get up, but he snaked his arm around my chest and yanked me back down. I giggled, something I don't think I'd ever done before, and lay there for a moment, giving him a false pretence that I was going to stay there.

I then shot up, jumping off the bed, and stood back; I didn't expect Sherlock to react so fast. He immediately half leapt forward, but he let out a little yelp when he realised I wasn't there, and fell over the side of the bed.

"Joooohhhn." Sherlock mumbled into the floor, he face planted into the carpet and his arms hanging limply by his sides. I stopped clutching my sides from laughter, coughed a few times, but was unable to wipe the grin off my face. I stepped forward, and stuck out my hand. He wearily looked up, saw it, grabbed it, but then completely unexpectedly dragged me down. I tripped over my feet and fell flat on my face, and when I looked up Sherlock was looking at me intently. I blinked, and he ducked his head down low and stole a kiss.

And that's when it hit me; I was in a relationship with Sherlock Holmes.

I melted into his lips, and curled my fingers around the base of his hair, wrapping them around each individual curl, and was vaguely aware of a brief small noise coming from the back of my throat. I would stay in this position forever, locked away in a little bubble of pure happiness.

But then out of nowhere he stopped, and I immediately felt the loss of his wonderful lips against mine, and stood up. "You're right John, we need to get ready." He left me on the floor, and I grumbled as I clambered to my now unsteady feet.

"You going to stop off for breakfast, or just go straight to English?" I yawned, my wandering eyes suddenly attracted to Sherlock taking his shirt off. In the midst of him tugging a new shirt on, he glanced at me, and saw me staring. I looked away, embarrassed, and turned around to take my own shirt off. "I reckon we might be able to get a muffin, or maybe some toast, but--"