Johnlock Oneshots

Puzzle

I see the way he's looking at me. From the side, puppy dog eyes filled with longing.
He may be the genius but I know the language of lust, of love.
I turn to catch his expression and it casual shifts to boredom.
I lift my hand to cradle his cheekbones and chin, I urge his head down slightly and on my toes I kiss him, he kisses back.
"What the hell John?" He looks like he's in shock, just without the blanket.
"I'm not gay. I'm just giving you a little puzzle."
"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" He sounds angrier than I expected.
"Figure it out Sherlock."
I escape to my bedroom to think, leaving a blushing and stunned Sherlock. I like leaving him to think and surprising him every once in awhile. Perhaps he could deduce my feelings for me.

"John, can you do that one more time? You know, just so I can be sure." He's been knocking at my door for a good 5 minutes. I cave in and open. He's not angry anymore and the shock has dulled from his eyes.
"Good, you're out. I'm gonna need you to kiss me again; I wasn't expecting it the first time."
"My kissing card is filled for today." My voice is coated in honey-thick sarcasm.
"But I didn't even get to check your pulse long enough."
"Missing pieces make a puzzle more challenging but all the more fun." I didn't sound quite myself.
"Please, John?"
"Did the Great Sherlock Holmes just use manners?"
He rolls his eyes.
"I'm desperate, okay. So did I hear a yes in that conversation?"
"No."
"Why?"
"I'm not gay."
He scoffs.
"You came out of your room, now come out of the closet."
Although the joke was at my expense I can't help but laugh with him.
The air around us lightens and I step into the kitchen.
"Tea?" I ask him as I pull out two cups.
"Kiss?" He ask in the same tone.
"No."
"Fine. I'll take a cuppa."
I put the kettle on the stove and turn back to Sherlock.
"Am I allowed to ask if you've made any leeway in my puzzle?"
"Actually John, I'm stuck because somebody won't give me more evidence." He grumbles.
I laugh, opened mouth and loud.
He grabs my waist and my left wrist in a smooth almost effortless movement. He's kissing me, hungrily.
I know my pulse has elevated but the part of me that cared ceases to. He breaks away without warning. His pupils are dilated but the rest of him is unreadable.
"I believe I have sufficient evidence to lead me to a conclusion."
I take a moment to regain myself, clear the suprise from my face and slow the rush of my heart.
"And?"
"You can retract your earlier statement. Although as you say you are supposedly "not gay" you are attracted to me; therefore you are at the very least bi. I can also deduce sentiment outside of friendship, the pupils dilating when I pulled back, the racing heart, how you're leaning in a little to close right now, that's a bit more than friendship, Watson. Furthermore you are uncomfortable with your attraction and do not know the depth of your own feelings." The words seem cold and calculated, like any case he solves. But what had I expected, I had given him a puzzle and he was giving me the solution. He breaks my line of thought with his voice soft.
"I suppose you are wondering how this will effect our relationship and of a similar nature how I feel. I shall start with the first, we can remain friends and flatmates or we can move forward and pursue a less than professional relationship. I do not give the option of the end of our friendship because I will not allow you to run away from your emotions. And now of the second, John Watson I'm wild for you. I knew you must make the first move to come to terms with the chemistry, this was inevitable. At this point you should know I value you over even my profession. I can tell you'll want more time to digest this information, alone of course." He reaches out and brushes my cheekbones. Heat floods through me.
He stalks off to his room and closes it's door lightly.
The muddle slowly leaves my brain as I concentrate on his words.
"Wild for you" those words didn't seem to belong in his mouth. I supposed I'd always known I was uncomfortable with my attraction to him but Sherlock is like a magnet. Had he expected me to kiss him sooner or later? That was a stupid question, it's Sherlock he expects the unexpected. This was too much to process. I'm going to need that tea. I poured Sherlock a cup too. I sat mine down and took his to his door. I knocked slightly.
"Come in."
The door creaked slightly as I stepped in. Sherlock was crisscorssed on his bed reading Republic.
He sat the novel down and uncrossed his legs.
"Thank you, Watson." He accepts the cup graciously.
I sank down next to him, leaning against him slightly. His head inclines toward me and I see the hint of a smile on his face.
"You seemed less shocked." He comments in an offhand way.
"It's still sinking in." He dosen't press it further. I've always appreciated that about him. I lay my head on his shoulder. He sighs a happy quiet sigh and lays his head atop mine. I think I know the course I'd like to go with him.

A.N. Come autocorrected to coke; I loved the irony considering Sherlock's drug habits. I know you guys were thinking of a gay joke when Sherlock says "Good, you're out." so please absolutely insert gay joke there! Also please comment if you'd like a part two to this. Thank you for reading!