Johnlock oneshots (2009, RDJ version)

Who taught you how to dance?

    "By the way Watson, who taught you how to dance?"
    "You did."

    John remembered the evening well. He'd just got back from having dinner with Mary, and as he opened the door to 221B Baker Street he heard humming coming from upstairs. Curious, John took off his coat and hat and went to investigate. He found Sherlock in his study, swaying this way and that to the tune he was humming; some sort of waltz. He was facing the window, so John leant against the doorway, watching.
    Soon enough, Sherlock's dance brought him to face John. The detective blushed as he made eye contact with the doctor.
    "Good evening Watson," he said, "I didn't hear you come in."
    John smirked. "You were humming loudly enough that I could hear you from downstairs, no wonder you didn't hear me."
    Sherlock looked away sheepishly. "I was dancing."
    "I know."
    Their eyes met for a second.
    Sherlock cleared his throat. "How long, pray tell, have you been watching?"
    "Long enough to know that you're a fine dancer, Holmes," John remarked, not breaking eye contact.
    The corner of Sherlock's mouth quirked upwards. "Would you like me to show you how it's done?"
    John cocked his head to one side. He paused. "Why not? It couldn't hurt to learn."
    Suppressing his smile, Sherlock took John's hand and placed it on his hip, then gripping John's other hand and pulling him into the standard ballroom pose. He started humming again, his eyes drifting shut. John followed Sherlock's lead, letting the detective guide him.
    1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3. A perfect waltz.
    John tried to ignore how fast his heart was beating, or how sweaty his palms were becoming, or how they were so near each other that he could feel Sherlock's body heat. He was acutely aware of Sherlock's hand inching from his shoulder to his neck, subtly pulling John closer. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Sherlock opened his eyes, looking up at Watson innocently.
    "What?" The detective smiled.
    "Nothing."
    Sherlock looked him right in the eye. "Are you sure?" A gleam of mischief twinkled in his eyes, daring John to say - or do- something.
    Before he could change his mind, John leant forwards and pressed a quick kiss to Sherlock's mouth. Sherlock blinked in surprise. "Thanks for showing me how to dance, Sherlock," he smiled. "I'll see you in the morning."
    John pulled himself from Sherlock's grasp and walked away, leaving Sherlock standing there shocked, a euphoric look plastered on his face.

    Sorry this was pretty short ( and kinda bad), I might rewrite it later if I feel like it.