A Scandal in Baskerville High

Chapter 27 - A Gift in Secret

•John's POV•

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Same Day

2:41 p.m.

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I took Sherlock back to 221B after we'd all hung out for a good many hours, laughing and joking. Even Sherlock seemed to be enjoying himself.

Time to make his Christmas truly memorable.

"Okay John," he sat on his bed with a huff, "What's your secret gift?"

I handed him a small wrapped box. He carefully opened it and pulled out a small, pocket-sized bottle of clear liquid.

It took him longer than it should have to realize what it is. "Lube?"

He raised an eyebrow at me. I stared at him seriously, "It's more of an invitation. I'm ready to face my fears. I need you to help me get through this."

He stood up slowly to meet me. "You sure?" He asked, slipping a hand around my waist and sticking his thumb down the hem of my pajama pants.

"Yes," I sighed, "I know it's cheap, giving you my body as a Christmas present, but...I don't know, it felt right."

"No, it's a great deal more than just your body," Sherlock looked at me through those chrystalline irises, "It's trust, and bonding...it's a lot of things, and I'm...I couldn't be happier."

I nodded, looking at my feet. He placed the bottle on his nightstand and lifted my chin gently, "You're absolutely sure you want this? Don't do it for me."

"I'm sure," I promised, "I do want it, from you. No one else."

He smiled, leaning down to kiss me softly. I ran a hand through his ebony locks and kissed him harder, trying to prove I really did want this. I don't want him feeling insecure.

He spun me around and backed me up, and I felt dèja-vu as my calves hit the metal frame of Sherlock's bed. I sat down, pulling him to sit on my lap and wrap his legs around me. His heels dug into the small of my back, and I leaned into them, feeling his presence all around me.

He pulled away, and his blue-green eyes trailed over my features, taking me all in. "You're pretty, you know," Sherlock smiled teasingly, "Anyone ever told you that?"

"Don't think so," I chuckled.

"Well you are," Sherlock kissed my jawline, the crook of my neck, my shoulder, along my collarbone, moving my sleep shirt to extract more skin.

This is, of course, so much better than what Jeremy and Evan did. They didn't kiss me, they didn't love me...they just hurt me. Again and again and again.

Gingerly, Sherlock moved a hand to palm me through my pajamas. I whimpered, just a tiny bit, at the touch that reminded me of Evan's hand where I didn't want it to be.

No. Don't think about him now.

Sherlock froze, "Is this too fast?"

"No," I shook my head, "Just go. I'll be okay."

He resumed the gentle rubbing sensation. Blood rushed to that spot, causing the slightly uncomfortable hardening that always happens when he touches me.

"You're already hard," Sherlock breathed against my skin, "You're ready for this, Johnny-Boy."

The name still sends shivers down my spine. From anyone else, it'd hurt, but from Sherlock...it's sexy as Hell.