Lessons- BBC Sherlock (Johnlock)

John sat in the flat waiting. Sherlock had been out all day working on a case which Lestrade had given him the day before. John had wanted to go with him, but Sherlock wouldn't let him. He had been acting strangely with John recently, he'd been acting very kindly. For example John made him a cup of tea as he was working. As John turned to leave after placing the mug on his desk, Sherlock grabbed his arm and pulled him back, and looking into his eyes said "Thankyou John." And when Sherlock was sat in his chair, John noticed him staring at him and thinking very deeply, before showering him in unnecesary complements.

John sat and thought about these occassions in which Sherlock had been unusually thoughtful, and wondered if he was perhaps gaining a little humanity and respect for him?

As John was thinking he heard a sudden loud crash at the door, which almost gave him a heart attack, followed by skipping up the stairs. When he turned around to see what was causing the comotion, he was met with Sherlock, leaning with his legs and arms crossed on the doorway, grinning.

"John!" He said in an unrealistically shrill voice.

"Sherlock! What are you doing?! You scared me half to death!" John watched the smurk slide off his friends face.

"I'm so sorry John, I really am, I just couldn't wait to tell you!"

John had not often heard Sherlock apologise, especially not as truthfully as he just did. When he usually apologised it was obviously just to get the unhappy person to shut up, but this time it looked and sounded real, he looked genuinly unhappy and hurt that he'd upset John.

"It's... Fine, Sherlock. I'm sorry for shouting. What do you need to tell me so urgently?" John was curious and taken aback by what could be causing his friend to act like this.

" I solved the case! It was so hard but I did it John! Now, how was your day?"

John simply sat, stunned. Why did he sound so excited about solving a case? Why was he asking about his day? He had to be after something!

"Sherlock, what do you want?" Sherlock looked confused,

"What do you mean? I'm trying to have a conversation with you, that's what bestfriends do, isn't it?"

He was trying to be a bestfriend. John felt his insides warm up, his stomach flutter and his face flush red. Hed never known Sherlock thought of him that way, he felt lucky if Sherlock ever referred to him as a friend.

"Oh... Yes, Sherlock, thankyou. My day was fine. How was yours?" John found himself struggling to speak. He felt increadably hot and flustered. He admired Sherlock alot, and whenever he showed signs of being 'more than friends' with John, he felt strange. "No," John thought, "Someones just been talking to him about how he treats me, or he's after something! Just stop thinking like this! It doesn't mean anything!"

"My day was wonderful! Although I was aware of you here alone, and so I rushed home the moment i sloved the case in the hope that we could perhaps go out?" Johns heart thumped painfully in his chest. Out? To dinner? Was this real? He looked up at Sherlock, hardly daring to make any eye contact whatsoever. He was scared of his voice giving up on him if he spoke, so trying to look as calm as possible, nodded his head vigorously.

"Yes? Brilliant! Obviously we needn't go right away-" John could see Sherlock grinning from ear to ear. If Sherlock just wanted to be bestfriends with John, he'd got the idea a little wrong. John suddenly tore himself away from Sherlocks gaze,

" Oh, well I just need to shower."

John slammed the bathroom door behind him. What was going on? Sherlock had just asked him out to dinner! This couldn't be real, but then what is it? He scrubbed his face in the hot water trying to come to terms with the conversation he had just had.

As John turned off the shower, he heard Sherlocks violin. He usually played downbeat and what John though were very depressing tunes, but this one was fast-paced, melodic and romantic. John quickly threw on his dressing gown without bothering to dry off and strolled through to Sherlock.

He was stood at the window with his violin and bow in his hands, and some self-written music on a stand beside him.

" I've never heard that one before, have you composed it?" John walked in behind him and stood by his chair.

"Indeed I have! I call this one 'Holmes and Watson'..." John felt himself go red once again. Sherlock had written a song about them!

" Hmm, well i love it- ehem!.. it's erm... very good..." he struggled to let words come out of his mouth without showing how he felt.

Sherlock looked round at him and smurked cheekily. He'd had an idea.

"I'll teach you!" He strode over to John thrusting the violin and bow forwards. John looked around, frantically as Sherlock swung behind him and rested his head on his shoulder.

" Here," He whispered into Johns ear as he slid the violin under Johns chin from behind, and moved his hands to where they should be, taking his individual fingers and placing them over the strings. John felt his spine tush with ice, his mind went numb and legs turned to jelly beneath his weight. He thought he was going to literallt collapse in a head at Sherlocks feet. Why was Sherlock doing this to him? What could he say? John had to say something,

" I don't want to play violin...-" was all he could seem to say. All those feelings and thoughts, yet that was all he could manage.

"Me neither-" John could barely register the next moment as it happend so quickly, but Sherlock slung the violin across the room and heaved John around by the collar of his dressing gown and clung on to him. John simply stared into Sherlocks eyes,

"Sherlock-" he was about to give him a speech on how he felt, but was cut off by a pair of soft, cold lips pressing against his. John felt it was obvious Sherlock had never really kissed anyone before, he was very innocent and gentle, yet had such a strong grip on John that he simply couldn't speculate the thought of breaking away. He slowly moved his mouth with Sherlocks, and put a hand through his hair. He had often expected hin to be forceful and dominating, but he was infact suprisingly soft and gentle, John thought. Sherlock very slowly pulled himself away from John, who was frozen still staring into his eyes. He pressed their foreheads together so that their noses were rubbing and their breath tickled eachothers knecks.

"John, I-"

"I know, Sherlock,

I love you too"