A/N Hey My Lovelies!!! So a lot of you asked for a fluffy part 2 for Begin Again, so here it is!!! Hope you like it!!! Enjoy<3
**Also...I know I posted this on my message board a bit ago, but idk how many of you saw it so imma ask you here as well...How many of you would like a full AU book for Transitioning? I've got quite a few ideas on how to continue it and I'm debating doing an AU book instead of just a p2...Let me know...***
Sherlock stood outside the door to John's flat, fussing with his shirt collar and desperately trying to ignore the voice in the back of his mind that was screaming at him to run.
Victor would have yelled at him for being tardy, called him a moron or something just as degrading. He shook his head, he didn't want to think about Victor anymore, not when he was supposed to be meeting John.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out, his chest tightening when he saw John's name lightening up the screen.
Hey! Buzzer doesn't work, so just text when you get here – JW
Sherlock stared at his phone for a moment, waiting for whatever harsh message was going to come next, but none came. He had to remind himself that John wasn't Victor, that he wouldn't do something like that.
I'm here – SH
Great! I'll be right down – JW
In the one minute and thirty seconds it took for John to appear at the door, Sherlock nearly ran six times. But then John was there, his eyes bright and face split in a charming grin, and the ball of nausea that had formed at the back of Sherlock's throat started to ease slightly.
"Hey! Come on in, don't mind the smell, someone died in one of the flats and they been cleaning out her place." Curiosity piqued in the back of Sherlock's mind. "Older lady, lived alone with no family so it took a few days for anyone to notice something was wrong. I eventually had to yell at the Land Lord because the smell got so bad." John lead Sherlock up a small flight of stairs, chattering on about the building and his neighbours.
John lived on the third floor, a tiny little bedsit that consisted of a kitchen, bathroom, and sitting room/bedroom. The whole thing was less than half the size of Sherlock's own place, and there were almost no personal belongings.
"Sorry, it's a bit small. Can't really afford much more than this." John shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. He grinned up at Sherlock and winked, that boyish grin returning to his lips as he backed into the kitchen.
"You shouldn't apologize, in fact, this is quite the feat." John's smile went from boyish to slightly confused and Sherlock blushed, he hadn't intended on voicing that thought out loud, but now that he had started, there was no way he could bail. "I-I mean- normally I wait for the third date before I agree to get into bed with someone." John blinked at him for a moment, and Sherlock instantly regretted speaking. He was about to retract what he said when a bright laugh filled the tiny flat.
Sherlock watched John laughing, a smile tugging at his own lips as John clutched at his sides, nearly doubled over with the force of his laugh.
It had been years since Sherlock had seen someone laugh that hard at something he said, and he couldn't think of a more beautiful sight.
John finally managed to get himself under control, wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes and giggling softly.
"Damn, cute and funny, how'd I get so lucky?" Sherlock blushed, glaring at the floor between his feet and chewing anxiously on his bottom lip. "You like hot coco? Can't watch White Christmas without coco."
