Skinny Love (Johnlock)

Actually Spooning

Enjoy

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Skinny Love

Actually Spooning

"Are you coming to bed, Sherlock?" John stood in the doorway to Sherlock's...well, their room.

"I'll be in in just a minute." Sherlock was finishing up an experiment. John sighed. A few moments past and John sighed again.

"Are you coming now?" he said impatiently.

"Yes, fine." Sherlock turned off his microscope and walked over to stand in front off John. He pulled him in for a quick kiss. John's hands wandered over Sherlock's bare chest. Sherlock was wearing sweatpants and his blue robe, while John wore a tank top and his boxers. As they snuggled into bed, Sherlock decided to ask John a question that had been rolling around in his head for a while. "John," he whispered.

"Yes, Sherlock?" John rolled over to face him and propped his head on his elbow.

"Are you...ready?" Sherlock said, "To tell people?"

"I'm ready whenever you are, Sherlock. You're the one who's a sociopath."

"I think I am," Sherlock held John around the waist. "Next case we have, we'll tell Molly, Lestrade, Mrs. Huson, and Anderson and Donivan if they're nice." Sherlock made a face. John smiled. It was so good to see Sherlock come out of his comfort zone. They fell asleep in each other's arms.

*

It seemed that John and Sherlock didn't have that long of a wait for their next case/coming out. Sherlock received a text early in the morning.

Have a case for you. Meet at the British Library. I think you'll like this one.

-GL

Sherlock walked back into the bedroom to find a still-sleeping John. Sherlock was going to wake him, but decided against it because he looked so peaceful. He went over and kissed him gently on the lips. John sighed, smiled subconsciously, and rolled over on his side. Sherlock smiled down at him and whispered a soft, 'I love you'. He went back into the kitchen and left John a note. He hailed a cab, and headed for the library.

*

John woke up and stretched his arms. The sunlight streamed through the window, casting shadows across the blanket. Sherlock was gone, but John wasn't worried, he was an early riser. He watched the sun illuminate the dust motes floating through the air for a while while he gathered his thoughts. "This is the best I've ever felt about any relationship." John smiled faintly and got out of bed. He found the note in the kitchen;

Good morning sleepyhead. New case. British Library. Time to tell the world.

-SH :)

There was a small smiley face beside his initials which made John laugh. He stopped laughing when he realized what this meant. "Time to tell the world." His stomach flip flopped. He got ready to go without even realizing. His body was on autopilot and his mind was racing. "I love Sherlock. So why am I getting cold feet?" he thought while brushing his teeth. He left for the library before his over-productive mind provided any reasons not to.

*

The body was in a dumpster behind the British Library. When Sherlock heard the cab pull up, he popped his head out of the dumpster and smiled at his John. John didn't exactly smile back, but grimaced because Sherlock had bits of trash and human remains all over him. Sherlock jumped out of the dumpster and wandered over to John, who stood a few feet away from him because of his stench. They watched as the body was lowered out of the dumpster by a crane and Sherlock walked over to it to start his deducing. The thing that jumped out the most to him was that the victim had no shoes. Male. Early twenties, late teens. Upper middle class. Athletic. Parents divorced. Abusive father. In a fight shortly before death. He relayed this information to Lastrade. John thought he was brilliant, as always.

The crime sene had started to wind down. Forensics had taken the body, but all the cops were still there. Sherlock walked over to John and took his hands. They were shaking. "Are you ready?" he asked.

"Of course." John smiled, and squeezed Sherlock's trembling hands reassuringly. Sherlock cleared his throat.

"Everyone? Can I have your attention?" Sherlock called out. Everyone close to them turned to look, and the acquaintances just kept working. "I have an announcement. John and I, We're a, um..." Sherlock held John around the waist with one arm. "We're a..." He voice quietened. "A couple?" His voice rose on the end like it was a question. Lastrade started clapping. Donivan actually gave them a hug. But not Anderson. Lastrade texted Molly, who called Mrs. Hudson, who said it wasn't news for her. John smirked at this, remembering some of their more louder snogging sessions. The two boys went home happy and content.

*

Sherlock had solved the case in a little under two weeks. It turned out that the boy was a shoe collector, and had stumbled across a pair of very rare Nike's. His friend who helps with the collection had killed him for his shoes. Surprisingly, it was John who said those two words that evening. "I'm bored, Sherlock." He leaned over his armrest to look at Sherlock on the couch.

"What would you like to do, John?" he asked, coming out of his mind palace.

"Well, you already know what I want to do..." He said sheepishly.

"Interesting." Was Sherlock's reply and he raised an eyebrow.

"What? I know you were thinking it too, Mrs. Hudson visiting her grandkids and all." John got defensive.

"No, it's not that, of course I do, I was just wondering why you deny yourself the pleasures of everyday human existence."

"Did Sherlock just say he wants to have sex with me?" John thought.

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