Won't Let My World Fall

Chapter 5

(Author's Note: GREG IS ONE OF US. Lestrade fangirls.)

(Still John's POV)

John stood frozen with shock, hyper aware of Sherlock's hand on his neck and the clusmy movement of Sherlock's lips against his. Before he could recover enough to react, Sherlock had stepped back. He stood still for a second, then fled the room. "Wait! Sherlock!" John called after him. Uprooting himself from his position in the middle of the living room, he ran down the stairs after Sherlock. Sherlock was already out the front door, and by the time John reached the street, he was out of sight. Okay, what just happened? He thought. Admittedly, if he had caught up with Sherlock he had no idea what he would've said. His thoughts were jumbled and conflicting. I'm not gay. But...I...kind of liked kissing Sherlock... He turned and headed back inside. I liked kissing another guy...No, not just another guy, Sherlock. Okay. I like Sherlock. In that way. Wow. That's new. The living room was exactly as untidy and cluttered as he'd left it, like his world hadn't been irrevocably turned upside down. He pulled out his phone and sent a text to Sherlock. Come back. I need to tell you something. A beep from the kitchen counter told him Sherlock had left his phone here. John paced the length of the room, replaying the kiss in his head. He had to find Sherlock. He had two options, really: Lestrade or Mycroft. It was more likely that Mycroft knew where Sherlock was, but John would prefer to talk to Lestrade first. 

Lestrade picked up on the third ring, "Hello?"

"Hey, Greg, it's John," John said.

"Don't tell me. You two got into trouble, again? What happened this time and how illegal was it?"

"No, nothing like that; it's all fine. I was, um, just wondering if you knew where Sherlock is?"

"No...I haven't seen him since this morning...why? What happened?"

"Um..."

"Seriously, what did he do?"

"He...well...we came home...and then we...talked a bit...and he...kissed me."

The silence on the phone line went on for so long that John almost thought Lestrade had hung up. "Greg?"

"WHAT??! OKAY I'M...OH MY GOD...REALLY, HE DID OH MY GOD. AND WHAT HAPPENED THEN, WHERE'D HE GO???!!"

John removed the phone from his ear slightly, "He left."

"HE...left? Why did he leave?" Gred sounded disappointed. 

"I think he thought I...would be angry or something. I didn't react right away. And he left his phone here." John could hear Lestrade's exasperated sigh through the phone.

"So he's wandering the streets? Technically, we can't consider him a missing person until he's been gone twenty-four hours, but I'll try to get someone out to look for him and if he turns up I'll call you."

"Thanks, Greg."

"Before you go...so...just for the record...you two are an item now?"

"Well...I have to find him first...but hopefully..." John could hear giggling. 

"Okay, okay...that's so cute...good luck, now go find your boyfriend."

John hung up after Lestrade started laughing. He called Mycroft, hoping the elder Holmes brother would be cooperative in helping find the younger. "Hello, John, looking for my brother, I presume?" Mycroft didn't beat around the bush.

"Yeah, where is he?" But neither did John.

"London."

"That's so helpful and specific, thank you so much, you're like a GPS satellite."

"Well, I think you should explain why you're looking for him first."

"What d'you mean, he's my friend and he's run off, of course I'm looking for him."

"Oh friend, you say. Well, correct me if I'm wrong but his more recent actions seem to indicate a want for something more than your average friendship would entail." John glared at the wall, this was why he'd been trying to avoid asking Mycroft for help.

"I assure you I have only my brother's best interests at heart when I say you should be thinking of all the various resolutions to your little problem that may play out when you find him." Mycroft continued.

John growled, "I'm aware of the 'various resolutions,' Mycroft."

Silence.

"FINE! YOU WANT ME TO SAY IT? I'LL SAY IT! I'M IN LOVE WITH YOUR BROTHER! I LOVE SHERLOCK AND I SCREWED UP AND I NEED TO TELL HIM!" John yelled. He was glad Mrs. Hudson wasn't home to hear that.

"He was last known to be walking in the vicinity of 22 Northumberland St." Mycroft replied smoothly, "More specifically, outside a small Italian restaurant. Sound familiar?"

John hung up.