#(he learnt stuff by heart for the scenes he had to read newspaper to holmes!)

[amypihcs]

Happy Birthday Edward Hardwicke!

[helloliriels]

Prompt #2: Allergies

February 2021 Johnlock prompt challenge, hosted by @ohlooktheresabee. Daily entry by 🐝 @helloliriels🐝 *** 🐝🐝🐝 Gonna have to cheat on this one, down sick, but since bees & allergies go together, here it is. Enjoy! 🐝🐝🐝 ***

Do Bees Kiss? or just Sting? 

Q: Do bees "kiss"?

             Why do bees "kiss"?  I went to Wikipedia.

A: When bees "kiss" they are actually passing nectar to other bees.

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Sherlock kisses John.

It was early morning. And John was getting ready for work.

Sherlock bloody Holmes of course, pays no attention to people's privacy or morning routines, and can't be bothered to explain why he's standing in John's way as he makes his toast and goes about his business...  but there he is. Every place John needs to be. Waiting for something.

John is just about done and ready to head out the door - No thanks to Sherlock for making him late again - when he gets the shock of his life.

Sherlock kisses him.

A small peck on the lips. Almost chaste. Like those kisses you give to your crush in kindergarten. Or to your mum. When she insists.

John thinks it's an experiment. He knows it is. 

It must be. 

He gives Sherlock a 'you done now?' look, then goes around him when he gets no reply. 

Sherlock heads off to do his own morning routine. John sighs. Dropping the butter knife in the sink with a loud clank. Exasperated. He doesn't have time for this shit. 

Why do I bloody put up with it? 

He fumbles with his keys and jacket. Noting now that the genius has decided to get OUT of his GOD damn way of course, he is twice as late!!

He heads out the door in a rush. Slamming it, just a little in revenge on the way out.

***

Talking to Greg later that evening - around the corner from a crime scene where Sherlock is currently arguing with Anderson - he tells him about it off-hand. Confession of a sort. Get it off his mind. Greg will think it's damn funny.  "Pompous git, gave me a kiss earlier..."

"Wha???!!!....," Greg mouths a mock 'O' in awe as he turns to look at John, eyes wide in amazement...  a look that fully says, 'finally! It's going down!'

"I know right?" Playing it up, John laughs it off. Great joke. Were not a couple! He shrugs.

"What else happened?? What did he say?" Greg was dying to know now, taking his hands out and shaking John for more details. The man wanted details?! John could see this was the happiest moment of Papa Lestrade's life. It was almost a bummer to have to disappoint him...

         🐝   ***REST UNDER THE CUT***   🐝

"No, no, nothing like that." John reassured, "God I wish!" (It came out before he had time to stop himself). And Lestrade looked taken aback.

He added a little "Haha," like he had meant it as a joke after all.

He really didn't.

         Sobering thought.

Thinking better to explain himself, he added - "Hey, don't tell Sherlock I just said that?... by the way. Bit not good. It was just an experiment after all, I'm sure. You know how he is."

Greg was still just... flabbergasted. A balloon deflating. Open mouthed staring at John. No words.

John's half sad-smile said more than he probably intended. Shouldn't have mentioned it after all, he thought. "Well!" He added cheerfully, slapping Greg on the shoulder. "Was a fun case tonight. Sherlock will be happy. Solved it in under 5 minutes!" He prepared to leave, and shot off a parting, "See you round." With a half-smile. He bowed his head and walked off to follow Sherlock who was now leaving. John had his hands in his pockets now. Quite unlike him. Shuffling along. 

Greg watched as John kicked some debris in his path in frustration, mindlessly, as they left. He had never seen the man looking so downtrodden...  

At least, not after such a brilliantly resolved case! John was usually on cloud nine after watching the curly haired genius work. It was rather embarrassing really. The puppy eyes that looked up in worship at Sherlock as he dished out deductions, it was almost criminal. But lately he was getting more and more moody... Greg wondered.

And here, with this new evidence, Sherlock had managed to...   He stopped. Shaking his head. Unbelievable. Just unbelievable...

Greg took one last look over his shoulder at their retreating forms, before heading out himself. 

 "Unbelievable."

*** 

The week goes on.                       

Sherlock continues to kiss him, Randomly. Small pecks mostly. But sometimes a smooch. Nothing more. No explanations. Just kisses.

Experiment.

Must be. John kept telling himself.

Experiments require further data. It was the only possible explanation...

Sherlock had never shown any signs of wanting... relationship in his life. Mister 'girlfriends aren't his area' and 'married to his work', and... 'alone protects me'...  had never expressed any interest in any men either (that John knew of?). Hell, he'd even turned down some of the most bloody gorgeous ones they had met so far, both men and women. So John doubted that he was interested in that sort of thing. Some people just aren't.

The only really odd thing about it, is - Sherlock isn't saying anything to address the kisses.... 

It must be like having toes on the kitchen table, to him. John thought. A dummy hanging itself from their rafters. Or penicillin growing in the bread box. I'm just a thing. A dummy for this latest experiment.

At that last thought, a realization dawned on John. A horrifying, terrible realization. How had he not seen it sooner?!

Was Sherlock going to break out some rare dye, or some insane chemical powder he'd concocted - to dust and test John's lips for lip prints left at a crime scene next?? John could just see himself going to work with purple lips and a chemical burn that would take weeks to heal. Perhaps even suffering an allergic reaction...

All because Sherlock did not realize the exotic stuff would not COME OFF!!! and was actually quite dangerous.

He pinches the bridge of his nose at the thought. Exasperated. 

His brain hurts now. 

    This was happening a lot lately. 

The thought of what he was going to be subjected to next....the worry. Was almost worst. Well, it is worse - than the kisses, John thinks.

The kisses. 

Damn. Need to stop thinking about this.

John did his best to push it out of his mind. Not wishing to upset the equilibrium of their friendship. Crazy as it might be right now. At least this is one way, he was getting what he wanted? Or something like it. Gift horse and all. One doesn't ask...

He is tempted to ask however, about how you would go about setting up a mind palace? Just so he could keep the memories locked forever away in there to return to. But that would be more than telling.

So he just closes his eyes most of the time, when he knows it's going to happen; and stores it in the best way he knows how. Memorization. Skills learnt in public school. Repetition. 

Sherlock was certainly giving him that. 

John smiles despite himself. He gives it about a week before the worst will come out.

           He isn't wrong.

***

The height of ridiculousness comes one morning, almost exactly a week later. 

John is there in the kitchen, fork in hand - eating his breakfast, and reading the paper out of the corner of his eye. Completely non-plussed, while Sherlock continues to dive in for a small kiss. Between. Every. Single. Bite. The paper rattles a bit each time. 

John isn't even looking at him anymore.

Or acknowledging that this is happening.

At all.

He's got his back to the cabinets, facing out. And his slippered foot keeps tapping away.

Sherlock, as anyone watching would have seen - was acting as childishly as could be imagined. Not unlike when you see two kids who won't stop hitting one another, while say 'I'm not hitting you". If he hadn't been the recipient of it, John might have thought it was quite funny.

He wasn't sure how long this was going to go on. And clearly had decided to take the saint's role and be above it all; when Sherlock dives in for one more kiss. 

This time, he presses in deep, and opens his mouth a little. Holding it there. Breathing his air. 

  Waiting.

  Watching with a perplexed furrow of his brow,

                  for John's reaction.

Oh god. John thinks. Feeling the warm breath, and the warmer lips pressed up against his own.

What is now a very REAL, albeit awkward, kiss.

Sherlock does not have much experience in this area, after all.

John's breathing stops. He swallows hard. Tries to remember not to drop his fork.

His heart has just jumped out of his chest. And is now screaming at him. Pumping and pulsing like it's running a marathon. And his eyes scan around the room, as if someone might materialize from thin air, who could help, or at least explain all of THIS to him?!!!

     ...WHat the HeLL wAs GoiNg On??!!!

Lips still connected, breath shared, he looks up at Sherlock at last. Unable, really to avoid it at this point. He makes eye contact. 

His eyes full of fear, his eyebrows raised in question.

And showing... Honestly showing something else entirely, he hadn't meant to show at all.

Longing.

He looks like he is about to cry. He is about to cry. This. THIS. Is too much.

Sherlock can't have THIS from him. Not without a relationship. 

He pulls away. And turns his head, his lips out of reach. Closing his eyes. His signal, that he is DONE.

Done with this bloody experiment. Done with his stupid, unfeeling, selfish flatmate. Just done.

***

He feels, more than sees, Sherlock grin his way out of the kiss. Backing off just the slightest bit. But still not going away. 

When he looks back a few moments later, having calmed down his own breathing. And collected his feelings. Sherlock is still standing there. Looking down at him. A wicked grin on his face. At that look, John is stunned. Has this all been a JOKE to the man?!! 

He has only a moment to think before Sherlock's lips are on his again.

John drops everything this time. Throws, more like. Literally - newspaper, plate, fork, all of it - down. And pulls down on Sherlock's neck, forcibly dragging him closer. If Sherlock wants to kiss, then GOD DAMN IT, he is going to get fucking KISSED! And John releases everything that has been pent up inside of him, all week. All month. All of the years he has known and been in love, with Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock was now holding onto him also, arms wrapping around his middle. Keeping him upright, somehow. While John was snogging him senseless.

That should teach him. John thinks as he pulls away. Completely out of breath and panting with the exertion he had just enforced. And glares up at his flatmate. Absolute daggers.

But Sherlock...  is now blushing, and looking pleased as punch. The response John sees, is also the kindest, and gentlest look in his eyes.

More love than he has ever dared to hope for from anyone, let alone, from his companion. More love than John thought the man standing before him, was capable of feeling. 

Contrary to everything Sherlock had tried to tell everyone, loudly, since the day John had met him. This was Sherlock being human. 

And it was all for him.

It was like a wall had come down. And the great genius' emotions were laid bare - exposed before John, for what they really were. Insecurity. Inexperience. He was offering himself up as a gift to be taken. A student to be taught. And John had... Oh.

Oh.

John blushes. He had just taught. Hadn't he?

Sherlock smiled. Glad to see John finally catching up. A puzzle at last, solved. 

A sweet little shrug of, forgive me? but this was the only way I know how... accompanied his smile. And John found himself laughing with relief at the expression. Giddy with it.

He pulled Sherlock back in to himself, gently this time. And gave him more of a sweet, first-date kiss.

With Sherlock's permission, it deepened it into a full, gorgeous, lovers kiss - His hand gripped tight in the expensive fabric of Sherlock's shirt, to keep him in place. Buttons be damned.

This kiss was;

Full of all the things John had wanted to say; 

Full of all the things Sherlock had been trying to say;

Full of all the things they had both held back for so long.

When it ended, John felt Sherlock lick a tiny bit of honey off of the corner of his mouth. Humming as he did so.

A little like a buzz.

🐝🍯🐝 Not unlike a bee.🐝🍯🐝

John shivered in anticipation. As Sherlock led the way...

If this was what loving Sherlock Holmes was going to be like... Watson smiled, then sign him up as beekeeper.

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posted on AO3 by helloliriels

More great fics and daily updates under the February 2021 Johnlock prompt challenge from ohlooktheresabee on AO3