#'it's pride month kids you know what that means' repeating endlessly in my head

[kugisakiss]

Au where Conan is a weed dealer. Cue him sitting inside Kogoro's office and laughing calmly with bloodshot, red eyes while smoking.

taking down the B.O. the "normal" way is taking too long. Conan and Haibara are going to build a criminal empire so large it will chase them out of business and they're going to start it by selling meth without getting caught because who would even suspect them?

[rainsongdean]

you’re always golden to me

post-mockingjay / pre-epilogue everlark healing together, appreciating the sunset, and maybe even falling in love

"We should head back before it gets dark." Peeta's words rang out in the open air between them, but they were not enough to pull Katniss from her trance-like state.

It had been a rough day. Not enough so to be classified as a bad day, seeing as Katniss had found the motivation to move from the bed to the couch at some point in the afternoon. Now, though, watching the clouds paint watercolors in the sky seemed to bring her back to life. She was encapsulated by the sight.

"Not yet," she eventually spoke, her voice somewhat hoarse from not using it for a while. "I want to stay until it's over. Besides, we could walk home blindfolded from here."

It was true. Katniss had discovered the hill nestled in the woods behind Victor's Village not long after returning from the Capitol. She found solace in being embraced by the wilderness rather than being suffocated in her old home, so when she accidentally stumbled upon the tall mount that overlooked the wide plains and open sky, she knew she had found what she had subconsciously been searching for.

It had taken a few months before she brought Peeta to her secret spot. He'd only returned to District 12 a few days before she had found the hill, and they both needed some time to warm up to each other again. But one day, after suffering through a particularly vivid flashback that ended with him handcuffed to one of Haymitch's spare cages for his geese, Katniss figured it would do them both good to escape into the forest for a while.

That was the first night they watched the sunset from the hill. It had been slightly uncomfortable, sitting inches apart on the dewy grass, no attempt at conversation made by either party. Eventually, Peeta suggested they return home to make dinner before it got too late, but Katniss insisted that she could tell by the shape of the clouds that they would put on an impressive show.

As usual, she was not wrong.

It was the most vibrant spectacle either of them had seen - far more breathtaking than any Capitol party or fireworks display. Sure, they had both watched the sun go down in 12 before, but their view had always been clouded by the thick layer of dust in the air from the mines or obstructed by the cluster of buildings stacked practically on top of one another. Here on their hill, nothing stood between them and the sky. Beyond that, the best part was they got to share it together, just the two of them. 

Since that night, the pair made an effort to hike the two-mile trek to the hill at least once a week, though they typically found themselves there more often than that. Katniss still liked to visit the spot alone, sometimes using the safe space to speak aloud to Prim or Finnick and imagine what they would say back. Other times she just enjoyed the silence.

Peeta, too, ventured to the hill a few times by himself. He had tried on several occasions to paint the landscape, and while he was able to perfect the morning glow and mid-afternoon sun, he couldn't capture the colors of nightfall that he most desired to paint.

Despite the significance that the holy ground held for each of them individually, neither one could deny that they preferred to visit the hill together. Katniss had been unofficially living with Peeta for weeks now, and they even shared a bed most nights, but there was a different breed of intimacy that came with being in the woods, nestled in their own little corner of the universe. 

"Fine," Peeta sighed contentedly, breaking the silence again. "We can stay as long as you'd like." With that, he leaned toward the picnic basket they had brought and reached in, shoving aside the empty containers that once held a selection of berries, cheeses, and breads to reveal a neatly folded fleece blanket he had stashed in the bottom. "I came prepared," he announced with a sense of pride.

Katniss briefly pulled her gaze from the view for the first time since the sun had begun its descent to offer Peeta a small smile of gratitude. The gesture warmed his heart with the blaze of ten thousand sunsets.

Taking care to wrap the soft cover around their legs, Peeta pulled the fabric up to their chests and then eased his back to the ground until he was laying horizontal on the hill. Katniss followed suit so they were both engulfed by the blanket.

Their new angle only served to better showcase the colors stretching endlessly above them. One hue in particular transported Katniss back to a seemingly ancient memory of the two of them.

"Orange. Muted... like a sunset." Katniss didn't break her eye contact with the sky but smirked to herself as she spoke.

Peeta nudged her shoulder playfully in response, easily picking up on what she was referring to. Their conversation on the train about favorite colors was one of the first to come back to him after he had been rescued from the Capitol. Shifting slightly toward Katniss, he reached out and twisted his finger gently around a stray strand of hair that had escaped from her braid. "You're so poetic when you quote me," he mused sarcastically.

"Well, your choice of favorite color is much more poetic than Effie’s choice of wig," she quipped. It was ironic how some of her and Peeta's best conversations had happened in the midst of some of the worst times of their lives. And yet, there they were: safe and relatively happy, just two kids trying to piece themselves back together with some pastel paints, cheese buns, and hidden hills. It may not have been anything profound, but it was living, and Katniss figured that, for time being, that would be enough.

She inhaled deeply, trying to absorb the moment. They had reached the peak of the sunset when every particle in the air seemed to glisten from the giant star's final attempt to remain on the topside of the world. There was only one word to describe it.

"Everything is golden."

And, for an instant, it was.

But as the sun succumbed to the pull of dusk, the raging reds and oranges that had scorched the sky swiftly turned to delicate pinks and purples, paving the way for the black of night.

It was then that Katniss realized Peeta had been uncharacteristically quiet, his sunset commentary usually being much more prolific than hers. When she turned her head to the left to face him, she found he was already staring back at her, still toying with her hair. His deep blue eyes twinkled like he knew a secret and was about to let her in on it.

When they first met, that kind of look from Peeta overwhelmed her. Sometimes Katniss would catch him staring at her like she carried the world in her hands, or spun threads of gold with her words. It puzzled her, annoyed her, and at times even enraged her. But after his hijacking, it had been so rare for that young, innocent Peeta to reappear and give her that look which spelled out his love for her so plainly on his face, and she had grown to cherish it.

"I change my mind." For the third time that night, Peeta's voice sliced open the veil of silence that covered them. 

Katniss abruptly rose to a sitting position, an expression of confusion clouding her face as she leaned over Peeta's resting form. "What do you mean?"

"I change my mind," He repeated calmly, shrugging as if the answer to her question was obvious. "The sunset isn't my favorite shade of orange anymore."

Katniss bit her lip and furrowed her eyebrows, causing the wrinkles on her forehead to deepen. Peeta could tell she was trying to keep herself from challenging him, so he decided not to torture her any longer.

"You are my favorite shade of orange," he reached his hand up to caress her cheek, easing away the signs of worry that had risen on her face. "You, sitting here with the sun reflecting in your eyes, your skin glowing in the light." He lowered his voice to a whisper and retracted his hand, slowly guiding Katniss's head to rest on his chest so she could hear his heart beating. "The way you make me feel like I'm on fire inside, all the time."

Girl on fire. The words echoed in his mind and, although he did not dare speak them, he internally admitted they rang true. And it was in moments like those, as he held her under the night sky with millions of stars blazing above them, that he saw Katniss burn the brightest.

"Oh, shut up," she exhaled, turning away from him in an attempt to conceal the blush that had overtaken her smiling face, but Peeta didn't have to see it to know it was there. "You're so cheesy."

"Hey now," he feigned a hurt expression, "I thought you liked my cheese."

Katniss couldn't hide her outburst at his nonsense and they both fell into a fit of laughter together. They hadn't spoken much about what exactly their relationship status was at the moment, hesitant to put labels on anything, but he still wanted her to know how he felt about her. And while Katniss had never been proficient in using her words to convey her love, the way that she clung to Peeta, burying her head in his arm while gasping to regain her breath from laughing so hard, told him everything he needed to know.

"Come on, we should really head back before Haymitch gets worried." Peeta attempted once again to persuade Katniss to return home after they had both calmed down. His stomach was beginning to growl - the small rations of their picnic earlier weren't nearly enough to tide over his appetite until morning - and now that the sun had set, he'd much rather snuggle up with Katniss on their couch than on the cold, hard ground. And besides, while he didn't really think their mentor would be waiting up for them, he figured the argument might be enough to persuade her.

"Seeing as it's past 3 p.m., I think it's safe to say that Haymitch is passed out on his couch," Katniss countered, but her actions said otherwise as she began to gather herself up off the ground. Peeta knew she had a soft spot for the old man.

It took them a little over half an hour to walk home, leisurely following the path that their own footprints had created over time. Upon entering the house, Peeta made a beeline to the kitchen to heat up some leftover stew from the night before. While he ate, Katniss headed to Haymitch's house, opening the unlocked door to find him asleep in his living room as she had predicted. She pried the half-empty bottle from the arm that hung off the couch and set it on a nearby table before turning the lights out and closing his front door behind her.

She had recently made a habit of checking in on her friend, especially during the weeks when Effie travelled back to the Capitol for work. She knew he had done the same for her countless times. Haymitch never seemed to question why he would sometimes wake up with a blanket draped over him or a pillow propped beneath his head, and Katniss didn't plan on bringing it up. Like most things between the two of them, it went unsaid.

Later that evening, tucked under the covers of Peeta's bed - their bed - Katniss felt more at ease than she did most nights. Maybe it was the serenity of the particularly striking sunset, or maybe it was Peeta's roundabout confession of the feelings he still had for her. Either way, she was pleasantly content. 

On the other side of the mattress, as Peeta danced on the cusp of sleep, his mind dragged him back to something Katniss had said on the hill. Everything is golden. He knew what she meant; that the landscape had been blanketed by the radiance of the sunset. But he felt it was true in another sense, and that maybe this new phrase was an even more appropriate way to describe the true essence of Katniss Everdeen.

Before drifting off herself, Katniss heard Peeta mumble one last line of admiration, causing her to fall asleep with a smile ingrained on her lips.

"You're always golden to me."

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #404

“death doesn’t answer when i cried for help”

The person you had the strongest feelings for dies, do you care? I'd be fucking devastated. It wouldn't feel real. Is there something you’re happy about at the moment? A few things. I'm still on that high of my APAP mask working, like I'm actually getting some fucking quality sleep, and I think I'm noticing the effects of my TMS therapy finally, too. My PTSD has most notably been much more bearable, and my interests are beginning to spread again. Do you want someone dead? No. Do you ever wonder what your ex is up to? I mean yeah, I think that's pretty normal, even for someone without my issues. Have you ever fed or taken care of a stray animal? Oh, many times. What is something you tend to worry about? My health and future. What is something you do that is unhealthy? Sit at the computer for way too long. I'm absolutely certain my vision is as poor as it is partially because of me endlessly staring at screens. What is something you do that is good for you? I'm not afraid to prioritize my mental health. What last caused you to force a smile? I was watching a Mark video for the first time in a while and was just reminded of how much I love and appreciate that moron. What was the last video game you played? Was it fun? Because you said "video" game, I guess I'll exclude computer ones, in which case I'm pretty sure it was Silent Hill 2. Given it's one of my all-time favorite games, of course I think it's fun. It's one hell of an emotional ride. What is something not many people know about you? The fact I was a dancer for many years would probably surprise people once they have a good idea of me and what I like. What word describes your basic style? Lazy, honestly. I dress for comfort, and given that's usually just pj pants and a tank top... yeah, I don't put much effort into my clothing when I'm going most places. Have you ever been told you were going to Hell? She kinda beat around the bush, but yes. Have you ever wanted to kill yourself? On more than one occasion. If yes, what convinced you not to go through with it? Well, I did OD once, but on the other occasions, it was the fear of the unknown that deterred me. Have you ever rejected a guy, only to have him push the issue by asking “why?” and insisting that you just need to get to know him better? Omg no, thank god. I would NOT handle that well. Is there something that you believe everyone should do and you can’t believe that some people don’t do it (e.g., recycle or go to the dentist regularly)? I didn't know 'til a survey question asked it that there are people who don't brush their tongue when brushing their teeth. Like holy shit dude, there are SO many germs on your tongue, clean that shit. Regarding the last good choice (healthy choice, kind choice, selfless choice, etc.) you made, what was your real motivation behind it? Ummmm the nearest that comes to mind is I guess taking my meds? I mean I do that every single day, but it's still a healthy choice for me. The motivation was because I am very serious about doing what I can for my mental wellbeing. What is something that you have had to practice at to get the hang of it? If you can’t think of anything, that’s okay, what’s something you are currently practicing at and trying to master? I really can't think of something for the first half of the question, but I can tell you that right now I'm attempting to force a routine of applying a therapy technique called "opposite action" into my daily life, where you, well, do the exact opposite of what your depression tells you to not do. It is WAY harder than it sounds, but I'm doing it with reading 30 minutes a day! Have you ever gone to the store to buy something, like a video game, when it came out at midnight? Not to my recollection, no. Regarding the last novel you read, was there a romance included? If so, was it central to the plot? The last novel I finished, yes. It wasn't central to the plot. Have you ever done relaxation meditations or listened to relaxation guides or positive-thinking/healing recordings? No, except in therapy when different therapists wanted me to experiment with it during a session. They just don't work for me. Do you have any interests that are also often shared by children? Yeah. Those are the one I'm especially self-conscious about. there something that could be a solitary activity but you really only like to do it with other people (e.g., watching movies, playing video games, etc.)? Watching movies or TV. Are you satisfied with the interior design or decoration in your home? Or do you think it needs a total home makeover? A makeover would be nice... Is there something that you’d like to own but you can’t find it anywhere? If not, can you a remember a time when you wanted something? Did you ever end up finding it or did you eventually stop wanting it? OKAY SO I actually have seen this custom-made once long after deciding I wanted it, but it was RIDICULOUSLY expensive. There's a location in the Silent Hill games called Heaven's Night, and I'd love love LOVE to commission someone to duplicate the neon pink sign of it to hang in my room. Hopefully one day I could still do it. Who makes you smile the most? Probably my cat, honestly. What piercings do you want/have? I've talked about the piercings I have, but I'll talk about those I want. My #1 is absolutely collarbone dermals, but as I've explained a billion times, I want to lose weight so the bones are more prominent for the sake of contrast; you can't really see my collarbones now, so I just think it'd look pretty dumb and random to just have random piercings somewhere around there with no dimension. I also want way more in my ears, dermals in my back dimples also once I've lost weight, my right nostril for the dozenth time (but this time I'll wear a hoop), and while I'd absolutely adore an undereye microdermal as well, it'd be pointless with glasses. :/ What's your favorite website? KM is my pride and joy and really feels like my online home, so despite using sites like YouTube more, that 'ole RP site has to be my fave. Do you own a fish tank with fish? No. I had fish bowls (AWFUL idea) as a kid, but never tanks Do you like the movie 300? Never seen it. Do you pop your knuckles? NOOOOOOOOOOO. I absolutely hate the sound. It makes me cringe and shiver. Do you have Photoshop? Yes. It comes in the Adobe CC photography bundle I have. Do you use tinypic or photobucket? I used Photobucket back in the day. Now I just upload to imgur. What’s your favourite song from the 1980s? You're talking to someone who adores classic rock/metal, haha. How about the 1990s? There are way too many songs to choose from. Have you won anything recently? No. How often do you make Excel tables? What for? Never. What was the last baby animal you saw in the wild? There was a poor fawn as roadkill on the highway recently. :/ Are you always available or online? Preeeetty much. Do you have dietary restrictions? Or do you just eat what you like? I can eat whatever. Do you prefer gold, silver or steel jewelry? Or no jewelry at all? Steel. I'm allergic to silver, and I think steel is more subtle than gold. Have you been binge-watching any shows lately? If so, what? No. If you dye your hair, do you do it yourself or go to a salon? I do it at a salon. If you have any, do you like your in-laws? I don’t have any. Would it bother you, if your partner had cut contact with their parents? If they had a good reason, no. Have you ever wondered whether you were adopted? As a kid I did because I thought Mom was meaner to me than my siblings, lol. What’s the best physical feeling in the entire universe? ........... This question is a setup lmfao. Have you ever grown a berry bush? No. Have you done something new to your hair recently? No. It's been the same for quite a while. I wanna dye it badly. Do you have bad anxiety? If so, do you take any kind of medication for it? I'm diagnosed with generalized and social anxiety, so yeah. I take Klonopin once and day and Ativan as needed for attacks. One thing you’ve experienced that you thought you never would have? HA, the first thing to come to mind was being noticed by Mark by making a viral (in the community, anyway) gif of he and his doggy. I shit you not, I couldn't sleep for three days lmfao. What was the last thing someone said to you that kept repeating over & over in your head? That I gained fucking seven pounds in two months at my last doctor appointment. I wanted to scream. How often do you have late nights out? Never. I'm a homebody. If you could, would you work from home? Do you think that would make you more or less productive? No. It would absolutely make me less productive. If you had the ability to change the weather, what would you change it to right now? Cool with a nice breeze, mostly clear skies, crisp air... That'd be nice right now. Is there something that you really need to do, but can’t seem to get motivated to do it? I say it all the time: finish decorating my room. It's funny, because I KNOW I'll feel more at home and cozy with my bedroom more personalized. Most disturbing movie you have ever seen? Paranormal Entity. The ending was... a lot. Has a life goal or dream ever come true for you yet? If yes, what is it? If no, do you think you’ll achieve it? Not that I can think of. .-. I hope I can achieve some... Have you ever had food poisoning? No, thank God. What are you listening to? "The Man Who Made a Monster" by Dance With the Dead. Do you think there will be a WWIII? I find it inevitable at some point down humanity's future. People are too hateful for it not to eventually. Has anyone ever asked you if you were emo? Yeah. Has someone ever liked you that you never thought would? Maybe? Idk. In all honesty, can a person be too nice? Yes, in some instances. Has one of your friend’s boyfriends ever tried to cheat on them with you? Yes, when I was around 12. And I let it happen. It's one of my biggest regrets. Is mental abuse really as bad as physical abuse? Of course it is. Emotional abuse can cut just as deep as some physical blows, or even deeper. Do you shop at Sephora for make-up? No. Zelda: Twilight Princess or Ocarina of Time? I'm actually not into TLoZ. Do you own a rosary? I did as a kid growing up in a Catholic Sunday school. If you were homeless, how would you cope? If I had no loved ones in my life and no sign of things getting better, I'm honestly preeetty sure I'd end my life.

[mandysimo13]

#49 with johnlock

Ha!! Omg, nonny! I love this so much! This is long overdue but I hope you didn’t give up on me and that you enjoy it! 

Prompt #49: “Please go get herpes as far as you can from this house.”

Sherlock had been sulking on the couch. He couldn’t understand why John insisted on finding more insipid women to date. Ever since he realized his own feelings on the subjects of romance and his flatmate, Sherlock endeavored to undo the damage done on their first case. 

…John, uhm, I think you should know I consider myself married to my work…

Stupid. Even from the get-go, Sherlock had known that John was special. Was interesting. Down right fascinating. A world of contradictions all wrapped up in a cable knit jumper and Sherlock was pained to admit, only to himself, that he had been startled and just a tad afraid of letting him get close. So, instead of letting John work his Three Continents char on him, he planted a firm roadblock and made John back peddle to save his pride. 

And John, ever the gentleman, had not made any repeat advances. 

Especially not when there were many more willing specimens on offer. 

He was running out of options. He had tried everything he could do to garner John’s romantic interest again, to let him know Sherlock’s mind had changed on the matter. 

He had made tea for John every morning this week. 

He had bought the milk without being asked.

He complimented John on his jumpers despite being of questionable coloring and pattern.

He had even consistently cleared off the kitchen table and labelled all body parts in the fridge appropriately!

What more could he do to prove to John that he was a priority in his life without coming right out and saying it? Did he really think that he would be so accommodating for just anyone? Was John truly so dense that he needed the words? Clearly he must be. Sherlock curled even tighter into himself, making himself impossibly tiny for such a tall person as he laid on the couch. 

Nothing for it. Tomorrow morning I’ll tell him. No more of this revolving-door-women nonsense, Sherlock firmly decided. 

Not long after his resolution was settled in his mind, the door downstairs opened and the sounds of giggling floated up the stairwell. 

Date’s gone well. That sets back my big reveal, Sherlock internally groused. Sighing heavily, he stood to go to his room. He certainly didn’t have the energy nor good spirits to make nice to yet another one of John’s doomed-to-fail romantic interests. He had taken one step into the kitchen when the pair burst through the door and John called out Sherlock’s name. 

“Sherlock? You home?”

“Kitchen, John,” Sherlock replied without meaning to. Immediately he pursed his lips and punched himself in the thigh for his stupidity. 

“Just a tic, gorgeous,” John whispered to his date just before meeting him in the kitchen. “Thought you were out.”

Sherlock shook his head. “Molly wouldn’t let me play in the lab tonight. Mind palace needed organizing, anyway. No point in going out.”

John’s face held a touch of disappointment. “That’s a shame.” 

He’s embarrassed. Doesn’t want me to hear them, Sherlock’s mind supplied unhelpfully. 

“If you’re trying to get a leg over, far be it from me to stop you, John. No need to be embarrassed.” His mood souring further, he decided to, as the kids these days say, sexile himself from the flat for the duration. After all, he had no desire to hear any of the activities John was going to get up to unless he were involved in them. “In fact, I’ll facilitate by paying Hudders a visit. If you’ll excuse me,”he said before swanning out of the kitchen. 

“Sherlock, don’t be like that,” John called after him. 

But Sherlock wouldn’t be deterred, he strode purposefully towards the door. He opened it to see a pretty brunette staring back in surprise. 

“Oh, hello. You must be the flatmate I’ve heard so much about,” she said. 

Sherlock squinted at her, recognition niggling at him. “You look familiar. Why do you look familiar?” John appeared at his back and he turned to John to ask, “you haven’t brought her back before now. Why is she familiar?”

“I don’t know Sherlock, but if you just-”

Then it hit him. Sherlock’s mouth dropped into it’s well practiced “O” of epiphany and he rounded on the woman and said, “last month, clinic, you were there getting a screening.”

“How-” she squeaked. “How did you know that?”

“I was there getting my bimonthly screening myself, habit of a former user,  unimportant. You were there because you had some kind of an outbreak and needed to be tested.”

“Sherlock,” John shouted from behind him. 

“Those tests are supposed to be confidential!,” the woman shouted, horrified.

“Oh, they are but you had all the signs of having received bad news when you walked out of the clinic. I take it what you have is communicable.” It wasn’t a question. “Is it cured or did you contract something more permanent?”

She gaped at him, remaining silent.

“Oh, dear,” Sherlock needled. John was going to be furious with him but that didn’t matter when now he knew that his deductions were going to save John from a brush with disease. “Something more permanent I take it.”

She refused to answer. Panic shone in her eyes as they darted between him and John. 

“Ah, you haven’t told John then. Rather risky, not to mention poor form. What is it, then? Herpes? Hepatitis?”

“How could you possibly know?! Who the fuck told you?!,” she  shrieked at him. 

Not deigning to answer the question he just turned to John and said, “John, please go get herpes as far as you can from this house. I’m reasonably certain that you’re not in the mood to contract any lasting mistakes this evening.” 

Damage done, Sherlock reentered the sitting room to plant himself in his chair to await John’s wrath. Not one to disappoint, John sighed angrily and tended to the fallout of Sherlock’s discovery. 

“Brigid,” John said, eerily calm. “I think our evening has come to an end. I’m going to walk you out and help you get a cab.”

Brigid, bitter at having been caught out, nodded and turned on her heel to stomp down the stairs. John shouldered past Sherlock to follow her. Sherlock could hear them talking in harsh whispers when he caught up to her.

“How could you not tell me? Do you know how reckless that is?”

“It’s not like I’m in the middle of an outbreak right now!”

“That doesn’t matter! You can still pass herpes on when you don’t have a flare up!”

“I’ve been taking my medication!”

“For one month, apparently!”

The angry whispers faded the further down the stairs they went and eventually he heard the door open and close. A few minutes later the door was opened and closed once more and then John’s heavy footfalls sounded on the stairs. Sherlock braced himself, knowing that what was to come next would not be pleasant.

As expected, John huffed his way into the flat. He stalked over to where Sherlock sat then stopped with his hands on his hips. Military stance. All business. Sherlock resolutely averted his gaze like a guilty toddler. 

“Go ahead, John,” Sherlock told him. 

“Any way you could have done that more delicately, hmm?,” John asked him, anger barely contained. 

“Possibly,” Sherlock muttered. “But I’ll not apologize.”

“I’m not asking you to, Sherlock.” 

That surprised him. He looked directly at John then and asked, “why?”

“Because, despite that dick move of outing her spectacularly, you saved me from a brush with simplex 2 and that’s rather nice of you.”

“Oh,” Sherlock said. “Well, you’re welcome.” He moved to stand but John firmly pushed him back in his chair. “You’re still angry.”

“Well spotted.”

“Why? I thought you were grateful.”

“Because you can’t just do that to people, Sherlock! I appreciate you looking out for me but, Jesus, that was downright cruel!”

“But she was going to infect you with something incurable! She didn’t even have the decency to tell you something important that could affect your health, too, and you’re mad at me?!”

“Because you need to learn to not be such a mean dick! You could have just whispered it to me and I would have handled it!”

“How else was she going to learn that it’s not right to play with people’s lives like that,” Sherlock countered. “She obviously didn’t care a whit about you, so why do you care about her?”

John deflated a little at the question. “Clearly, trying to teach you manners has failed once again.”

Sherlock smirked, trying for humor. “My mother could commiserate with you endlessly on that point.”

John huffed in laughter, despite himself. “Still, that was really mean. Next time, could you please just…be a tad more delicate?”

It was Sherlock’s turn to frown in anger. “Why? Plan on bringing more disease-ridden harpies back to the flat?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Good.” John said goodnight and turned to go up to his room and Sherlock muttered under his breath, “wish you’d keep the clean ones out of the flat, too.”

John turned on a dime. “What was that?”

Sherlock stiffened. “Nothing.”

“No, not nothing. What’d you say?”

Suddenly gifted with an opening to declare himself, Sherlock felt the unshakeable urge to flee. “I’m going to bed, goodnight.” He stood and sped walk to the kitchen.

But John was quick. He was two steps behind him and in a flash he had grabbed hold of Sherlock’s wrist. “Wait, please.” Sherlock stopped, rooted to the spot in John’s grasp. “What did you say.”

Sherlock sighed. If he wanted to continue hiding it would be easy. He could make something up and pretend like he didn’t have an all consuming fascination with John Watson, that he didn’t desperately want the man in every way. Or, he could be brave and risk losing him and his friendship for good. 

Well, never let it be said that Sherlock Holmes was a coward. 

Slowly, he turned to face his flatmate and slowly lifted his eyes to find John’s already staring back. He took a deep, steadying breath to prepare himself. Once more unto the breach, he told himself. 

“I wish that you wouldn’t bring women back to the flat. Or men. Or anyone for that matter.”

John blinked at him. “Why?”

“Because,” Sherlock said, licking his lips nervously. “Because I want to be the one you bring home. Romantically,” he added, feeling ridiculous.

“Sherlock,” John gasped. 

Rejection, Sherlock filled in. He closed his eyes, not ready to see pity in John’s face. He shook his head and tried to turn and leave. “You know what, forget I said anything. I’m being silly. Let me just-”

“Stop,” John interrupted. John reached up with his free hand and turned Sherlock’s face back towards him. “Sherlock, please look at me?”

“John-”

“Please.” John sighed, “please, just for once do what I say, alright?”

Sherlock opened his eyes reluctantly. He looked down at a grinning John and was at once confused. “Are you about to mock me?”

“No! God, no Sherlock!”

“Then why are you smiling?”

John chuckled, shaking his head as if Sherlock were the one not making sense. “God, you really are an idiot.” And then, without further preamble, John lifted himself up on his tiptoes and kissed him.

Sherlock stood there, eyes wide, hands grasping at air, utterly stunned. John pulled back and grinned dopily up at him. Then Sherlock’s brain kicked back online but the only thing he was capable of saying was, “John?”

“You are a complete nutter, you know that? You’ve liked me all this time? What happened to all that rot about how “I’m married to my work” then?”

“I…may have been a bit hasty. That night.”

“Is that so?” John laughed, genuine and deeply, before reaching up to kiss him again. This time, Sherlock was a tad more prepared and he kissed back with enthusiasm. When they parted, John asked seriously, “you came back clean, right?”

Sherlock blinked, surprised at John’s ability for clear thought at such a time. He really needed to get a handle on his brain while kissing John. “Oh, yes. Yes, I’m clean.”

Satisfied, John grinned up at him. He tightened his hold on Sherlock’s wrist and began leading him towards the stairs to his room. “Good, because we’ve got some lost time to make up for.”

Never, in Sherlock’s whole life, would he have ever thought he would be thankful for a case of herpes.