#i haven't been able to keep a boyfriend longer than three months because i always lose feelings

[midastouches]

.

[sugarjar]

On purpose -2

Roman reigns x oc

Lauren is handling her ex-boyfriend from colleges divorce, he and Lori embark on a journey that proves how things happen for reasons. Either hers or his will it work out this time.

Her thoughts are slanted and this is somewhat proofread.

Previous part

This was my last case as a divorce settlement lawyer before I returned to being a prosecuting attorney. When I first went to law school it was to be a criminal attorney but when I graduated I was desperate to get out of debt and get a job so I settled into a smaller firm that paid well and was able to pay off my debt a few years ago but over time every last case became my last until the next one came along. I meant it this time Joe Is my last case and hopefully it's open and shut.

Making my way into the next conference and meeting I had with Joe walking down the long white minimalist halfway, with bright white lighting and pieces of furniture here and there and a mixture between abstract and a kind of Picasso. Opening the big gray painted white oak door laying eyes on the tall, brown eyes that I hadn’t seen in damn near twenty years, his hair was wrapped in a military style bun with his salt and pepper beard and he smelt more than heavenly when he reached in for a hug before we broke apart. I watched him drink in my grown woman's body. I hadn’t always had the curvy of curves but after college my grown woman body really settled in and I was more than in love with myself.

“Hello Joe, can you give me a bit of background or insight into your marriage over the last few years?” I said sitting down getting right into it sitting himself across from me and the polished oak table that matched the door. Looking back and forth between Joe and my pen and notepad as I waited for him to answer the question.

“Hi Lori, I'm doing great thank you for asking, haven't seen you in a while but that's okay.” he said sarcastically, having a conversation with himself using a bland tone before seeing my face and sitting up clearing his throat. “It was amazing the last few years but i've been working a lot between the traveling and long distance she couldn’t handle it and wanted to divorce about three years ago but I wanted to save us and suggested counseling and that i'd cut back on working and for about seven or so months it worked and everything was blissful but then I got an amazing storyline and it projected my career up and i started making more money but then i was way for way longer and we barely got to see each other and a few months ago she served me and said it was over and she didn’t want to try again.” he listed I wouldn’t dare and say I knew him because he’d changed so much since since id last seen him but i could see sadness in his eyes when he listed off the last few years with his wife Juile.

“Okay so what do you do for work?” I asked, jotting everything he’d just told me.

“I'm a wrestler, including endorsements of at least five million more if I book a lot.” he told me

“Okay and your wife wasn’t able to travel with you?” I asked him looking up.

“No, she gets sick in a car long distance and she works as a trauma surgeon so it’s hard for her to take time.” he explained watching me write it down, before asking my next question i made sure to make direct eye contact with him. “Did you at one point or another cheat on your wife with anyone whether that be emotionally or physically? I need you to be very honest with me.” I asked, waiting for something to change to tell if he was lying. At this point Joe had spoken with firmness in his tone and kept his answers short but detailed.

“No, because i was working so much i was too tired for sex at the end of most days.” he said staying firm with his tone and maintaining eye contact not seeming nervous at all.

“Okay and I don’t expect you to know this but did she at some point cheat on you in any way?” I asked keeping the same vibe, not one of tension but honest and open.

“No, she didn’t” continuing to answer firmly.

“Okay, and during the counsouling what was the conversation like?” i said counting to ask my normal oeping questions.

“Same things i just said working long and late and she felt like we weren’t married anymore and she felt neglected.” he reiterated

“And finally do you have any children?” I asked him

“Five, two set of twins four and six and a older daughter who just made fifteen.” he said making my eyes slightly bulge out of their sockets.

Damn

Hearing his deep chest laugh

“Sorry its just damn anyhow is there anything else i should know?” I asked him.

“No” he quickly gave

“Okay we’ll be intouch and figure out numbers and settlement later it seems like you both are ready to move on, this should be finialized by nexty month.” I said walking him out the door wanting to get the day over with.

Finally getting home just after ten o’clock I was beyond worn out and itching for a bubble bath, unlocking my front door hearing the automated voice announcing my arrival, my mother was standing in my kitchen over the stove.

“Momma, whatcha doing here?” I asked her sitting my briefcase down and stepping out of my heels my height dropping as I took them off one by one. Standing over with her hands in her hips looking at me some kind of way.

“Is that how you speak to someone let alone your momma?” She said with her ‘fix yourself tone’.

“Where Joe?” She asked looking behind where I was sitting and into the walk way.

“At home probably” I said standing and looking through the pot seeing chicken that hasn’t been fried yet as well as red beans with sausage and rice on the stove.

“I told you mama we’re not just going to fall out of the sky into a relationship, I’m just his divorce attorney.” I told her leaving the kitchen to go into my room and take my bath for bed.

Turning the faucet on and filling the tub floor with bubble solution slipping out of my clothes and into the water feeling the water warm and the bubble form on and around my wet body. Taking in a deep breath peacefully before my momma busted into the bathroom.

“Momma!” I said frantically gathering the bubbles to cover me before she smacked her teeth at me and with a wave of her hand said.

“Girl I’ve seen every crevice of your body you ain’t special.” She said sending a small ping to my heart but nonetheless shaking it off.

“That doesn’t matter, momma I’m grown you can’t do that.” I pouted at her. “God why does she always make me feel like a child”

“You worried about the wrong things you need to worry about how you gonna get Joe back, he’s doing more than well for himself with his play fighting.” She pointed

“What happened to this all being immature and besides that was a long time ago.” I said sinking I to the bath wanting her and this conversation to stop.

“Girl money is forever don’t be dumb now I’m going to finish the food and be on my way since you wanna act like you don’t care about nobody.” She said with an attitude walking off. Which made me sigh and just lay there and enjoy the warmth.

Getting out of the tub sometime later I dried my body off and did my nightly routine, slipping into a big tee-shirt before dipping into the kitchen for some food seeing a plate made and everything else cleaned up. Eating my food I thought about yet another guilting conversation with my momma.

I didn’t understand why she flipped from mommy dearest to getting like that. Finishing up and putting away my fish I slipped into bed and allowed sleep to take me.

-

[formosusiniquis]

Price of Fame

Written for @steddieangstyaugust Day 31: I'm not going to beg you to love me

T | WC: 1044 | No Archive Warnings Apply; Break up, No Makeup; Hurt No Comfort

AO3

It had been grueling, that's what Eddie thinks he's supposed to say. Blood, sweat, and tears. They got big by being lucky, the humble answer. They had been in the right place at the right time after working their asses off and now they're bigger than the biggest. Corroded Coffin is a household name used in the same sentences as Metallica and Sabbath.

And the honest answers to those interview questions about success, he always knew they fucking would be. It was a foregone conclusion in his mind, everyone else just had to catch up. They worked for it, blood and sweat that part probably is true. But what is it they always say? If you love what you do you never work a day in your life, Eddie thinks there's some truth to that too.

It's hard being on the road. But they got big and they stay big by touring, so Jeff wracks up a nasty bill at every hotel they manage to get calling the wife back home, Gareth keeps a girlfriend in every state, and he doesn't know what Freak's deal is. But the perk of being queer as a three dollar bill, Eddie can spend his nine months a year on the road and come back to Steve like nothing's changed. It's different with guys, with them. Cause Steve gets it, he's always been their biggest supporter. He knows the music comes first, the guys are Eddie's family, and he doesn't complain or ask for anything more than the time Eddie is able to give him.

It'll be a longer stretch at home this time, nearly a month, and Eddie is pushing open the door to the apartment he keeps for Steve already thinking about all the ways they can spend the time.

All to trip over a bag in the floor. Dropping his behind him with a thump, the old army surplus duffle that's been as faithful to him as his boyfriend hitting the ground with a smack that brings the man of the hour out from the bedroom. He's got another bag over his shoulder, something expensive looking and stylish that Eddie wonders if he bought.

“Did I forget to tell you I was coming home?”

“Well it wouldn't be the first time,” Steve's voice is sharp and clipped. Face pinched in a way that conjures memories of his mother, the one time Eddie met her.

“If you've got a trip with Robin planned change it, I'll only-”

“Be in town for a few days?” Steve asks. “So I should keep putting my life on hold for the few minutes that you can pencil me in? Change my plans because you've blown into town and just like always Eddie Munson's plans are more important than anyone else's.”

“I thought you'd be happy to see me?”

The question brings a quiet like the eye of the storm, he can already feel the whipping wind starting to push back in around him, smell the ozone in the air; but those words halt everything for a second.

Then Steve breaks.

“I am happy, Eddie,” there's a wet shine in his eye and he knows better than to think Steve is going to give him the satisfaction of letting a single one fall. “That's the worst part. I'm happy every time you walk through the door but I can't fucking survive only being happy one week out of every nine.”

A DM at heart, he can't stand a problem that no one will bring a solution to. Spits the way he would when Gareth would bitch about combat balance, “Then fu-”

“Call a hotel you haven't left the number to?” Steve is vicious, stealing the satisfaction of the curse from between his still pursed lips. “I spent my whole fucking childhood doing that, and I'm not doing it anymore. I-”

He looks down at his feet, at Eddie's, the sprawl of the pristine leather suitcase he moved in with years ago, his grandfather's Eddie remembers. Rather, he remembers the fond way Steve had talked about it.

“I'm done,” he says more to the kicked over luggage than he does to the man he is leaving. “I'm gonna stay at Robin's, she's waiting.”

Desperation claws at the back of Eddie's throat, but what makes it out is his father. “You can't leave.”

Fury lurks at the bottom of the water in Steve's red rimmed eyes. An anger Eddie can feel as they snap to his. “Why not? There's no prenup, no lawyers to get involved. I can walk right out the door you're standing in the way of and you can keep on being Eddie Munson, mysterious bachelor of Corroded Coffin.”

“There is no me without you,” he tries, but even saying it he can hear how it rings hollow off the barren hallway walls.

Steve likes to yell, likes to get loud, has told Eddie it's the only way he could make sure that there was life in the big empty house he grew up in was to make sure he could hear his bouncing off the walls. So he's ready to be yelled at. Ready for whatever Steve wants to scream in his face before they move back into the kitchen or to the bedroom where they'll find normal again.

So he almost doesn't hear the whispered way his relationship slips away. “I'm not going to beg you to love me. I can't do that again.”

“Steve, no, Stevie I do. I do love you. Of course I love you, all of this is for you. All of everything is for you, we can work this out. Just stay.” He begs, babbles, pleads as Steve moves with a silent assuredness close enough to pick up his bag.

“Goodbye, Eddie, I really am so proud of you.” Sincerity rings through in every word, just like he can feel that bittersweet love in Steve's last kiss to the corner of his mouth.

The door clicks shut between them and Eddie is alone. Alone holding the scraps of a broken heart he won't be able to write a song about and with an answer he can't give to his least favorite interview question. What's been the cost of your meteoric rise to fame?

[lovefortvmoviekillersandpsychos]

Good At Being Bad Part 1

Barry Allen (Ezra Miller) X OC

So you're a tough guy

Like it really rough guy

Just can't get enough guy

Chest always so puffed guy

I'm that bad type

Make your mama sad type

Make your girlfriend mad tight

Might seduce your dad type

I'm the bad guy, duh

I'm only good at being bad, bad

I like when you get mad

I guess I'm pretty glad that you're alone

You said she's scared of me?

I mean, I don't see what she sees

But maybe it's 'cause I'm wearing your cologne

////~~~~~~~\\\\

Crime is in full abundance everywhere. I learned that quickly after my escape from a horrible place full of people dressed in white. Staying alone was easy. I had heard of what happened to my Pappa after I was no longer by his side but couldn't bring myself to go back to him. Not yet. He seemed to be at his violent high and I did not think it would be the safest option to grow up in. Central City was my safest bet because of Superman. In Central City, I was able to do more than survive off of scrapes. A nice wealthy family who had lost a child close to my age, prior to my move to the city, took me in. They put me through private school which I graduated within three years. Pappa didn't raise me to be an uneducated princess. He raised me to be a genius. So, I interned at various law firms and fashion businesses around the city. Knowing the law seemed like the best bet because to break the law, you should know what you're breaking...right?

A year and a half ago, I ran into trouble though. Not with the law, but with some petty criminal. There I was saved by a masked man with a jawline I'd recognize anywhere. I knew that jawline from numerous run-ins I'd had at the local pizza parlor with a guy a little older than me. The petty criminal was knocked unconscious and he turned to me. I watched him carefully. His eyes widened in recognition but he cleared his throat and made his voice sound deeper than what I knew his actual voice was.

"Are you okay ma'am?"

I gave a short laugh,

"All thanks to you no doubt."

Awkwardness settled as he looked like he wanted to say something else. I smiled as I took a step towards the masked man.

"You know....you have a jawline for days?"

Stunned at my comment, he stumbled for words and I cusped his cheek in my hand and leaned in to whisper,

"I'll see you around, pizza boy."

Not even an hour later, I walked into the local pizza parlor to see him about to leave with 2 boxes of fresh pizza. I winked at him as he passed me with a guarded but curious expression. When I was leaving with my order, I found him sitting outside with his pizzas still in hand and a very nervous ora around him. I smiled a gentle smile and approached him.

"Hello, we've never formerly introduced ourselves. I'm Y/N L/N."

"Oh yeah. You're right. That's actually rude of me. We've seen each other here like almost every day of the week for the past 2 months and... Hi, I'm Barry, Barry Allen."

Balancing his pizzas onto one hand, he reached out to shake my hand. The moment our hands touched my heart beat faster and heat rose in my ears, cheeks, and chest. Breathlessly, Barry smiled at me with shyness in his eyes. I'm not sure why, but for the first time in my life I felt like a normal girl. I wasn't planning or calculating. I wasn't putting on a mask of indifference or fake kindness.

We started a very iffy relationship that was very strong at times and hurtful in other moments. He wouldn't admitted who he was even though him protecting me from theft was what made us come together in the first place. I fought to keep my darker habits from getting me into trouble when I got tired of being treated helpless. Yes, while Barry respects me, he wants to be my knight. All the good he was doing, all his adventurous escapades had me green with envy. I missed the thrill of a little danger...causing it more than that. But I kept myself in line. Especially knowing that Barry may be the one to take me down...though that's happened a few times before. Today is the day I decided to leave though, Barry and I ha e been having too many arguments. About him being late to dates, about him forgetting dates, about him not liking my circle of acquaintances,about him not trying to get to know people I talk to. I'm tired of it. When it's good, it's all good. But as soon as there is one thing to cause an argument, it turns into a full blown fight with yelling and tears and with me going to my apartment. Of course Barry would show up almost as soon as I'd get home, with flowers and apologies.

I've been in this city for almost 6 years. Pappa...I missed him. I missed home, in all it's filth and crime, it is home.

"Don't leave Jasmine. You like it here. I don't get it. You like it here and you're leaving?"

Sighing I turned to my boyfriend,

"It's just what I need to do Barry. Gotham is my home and I haven't been there in years. You've liked plenty of places but you still moved around."

"Yeah because I can't find the perfect place you know. But I stay in the same city. Gotham though...it's full of lunatics and psychos with guns and explosives and killers and danger and-"

"I know Barry. I was born there."

"Do you have to go tonight though? One more date night and I won't put up a fuss when you leave in the morning. I bought like 10 pizzas. Two are your favorites from the New York style pizza place. I got your favorite snack and drinks and alcohol too."

A smile crept on my face before I could try to maintain my serious posture,

"Barry..."

He looked at me with puppy eyes and I rolled mine before relenting and dropping my bag down. In a flash, Barry has me in his arms and was spinning us around. Wrapping my arms around him, I enjoyed the moment. I couldn't have had a better first boyfriend. Sweet, nice, spontaneous gifts, and fun date nights. Leaning towards his ear I whispered,

"Let's watch the latest KPOP music videos before finding a movie."

In another instant moment, Barry kissed me deeply, making my heart beat harder than previously. Then he was at his computer in his favorite reclining chair typing away on his multi-desktop computer. Grabbing a box of pizza, I slid onto Barry's lap and let the pizza rest on mine as I grabbed a slice to feed Barry as he typed rapidly. He took the slice in his mouth before I grabbed myself a slice as well. Deep inside though, I want a thrill of danger. I want to explore how dangerous I can be since the experiments. But here with Barry, there is peace and I'm sure there is love. But I need to be bad again, I'm just not sure how good I am at it yet.

[greyfix]

Finals Pt. 3

Title: Finals Pt.3

Ship: bakugou katsuki x kaminari denki

Summary: Katsuki and Denki have some unexpected visitors on their coffee date.

Word Count: 1.2k

Requested By: laniabis on ao3

Warnings: none

Tags:

Author’s Note: Sorry for the wait guys, it took Emma like 4 years to beta for me. Alright this is the last part i’m going to write for this series, though i know it is well loved. I do really need to finish off All Three. (Which is part of my ‘Things Get Complicated’ series. It’s a series of three works. Katsuki, Katsudon and Kisses: 3 parts. One More: 6 chapters, and All three, 3 published chapters, i’m thinking there will be about seven ) Emma convinced me to do this last part after i got the request, and she mainly fleshed out the base of it for me. Hope you enjoy the comedy and very very light angst (i tried not to ruin it for y’all too much) to ensue!

“Can I have a Cold Brew with milk and he’ll have a-” Katsuki looked at Denki to his right.

“Iced Americano, please.” Denki grinned. Katsuki raised an eyebrow.

“Can i get anything else for you boys?” the cashier asked

“No, thanks.” Katsuki stated plainly digging out his wallet and paying for the coffee, before walking over to one of the two seaters to sit down. It was nice to get a day for themselves, after everything that goes on at UA. “Iced Americano?”

Kaminari smiled, “it’s my usual.”

“I figured you for more of a light coffee with copious amounts of sugar and whipped cream.” He sat in the same chair every time they went to this cafe. The one in the corner of the cafe and a good view of the door. He set his legs wide, his arms crossed on the table as he leaned forward. He was the picture of confidence. But also the picture of vigilance. He could see everything going on in the shop, and that was exactly how he wanted it. He was out on a date, and he was going to do anything he could to protect his boyfriend. That includes watching his back. “You always seemed like the type to have a specific Starbucks order that took a year to say out loud.”

Denki threw his head back and laughed. “Nah, babe! If I'm gonna drink coffee I want to taste the bean, otherwise what’s the point? The bitterness is part of the experience!” He sat directly in front of katsuki. His position was much less rigid than the other boys. He sat with one leg up on the chair with his knee up at his chest and his elbow resting on top of it, as he leaned back in his chair, and let the other leg stretch out under the table. He was comfortable, and Katsuki was determined to keep it that way.

“There’s no way you actually feel that way, Lightning Bug. You have the biggest fucking sweet tooth that i have ever seen, how do you genuinely enjoy straight coffee?” Katsuki spoke.

“Well, an Iced Americano is really just watered down espresso, so it’s not really straight coffee, but I don't usually drink black coffee that I haven't made.” Denki explained, a smile on his face, “I like to do it myself.”

“How do I not know this about you?” Katsuki asked. He was genuinely curious. “We’ve been dating for how long? 3 months? And I've known you for even longer than that. What else don’t I know?”

Denki stopped for a second. Alot. There is so much of himself that he keeps private, and so much of that, he’s never told anyone before. But is he really ready to take that step? “What can I say, Kacchan? I am a paragon of mystery.”

“Are you now?” They’re interrupted when the barista calls out his name, and their drinks

“I’ll go get it!” Kaminari jumps out of his seat before Bakugou can protest.

He watches as Denki flounces over to get their drinks, grabbing straws and those little cardboard koozies that keep your hands from being affected by the temperature of the drinks. He never takes his eyes off of him. He would do anything to protect this boy. Katsuki knows that Denki still hides things, he can see it in his eyes. But that’s okay. Because he hides things too. Hell, who is ever able to interpret his emotions? That’s not by accident. Katsuki does plan on sticking around to continue learning about Denki, and to open up himself.

He only shifts his focus when he sees a figure with pink skin walking up to the door while Denki is walking back with their drinks. In a split second he feels more emotions than he has ever felt in his life, before finally settling on exasperation. I just can’t do anything without these fucking idiots following me, can I? I just want to go on a date in peace.

Denki plops his drink down in front of him before sitting back down in his seat, “What’s caught your eye, babe?”

Bakugou growls, “A bunch of fucking idiots.”

“Bakugou!” A very high and very loud voice catches their attention. Kaminari follows Katsuki’s gaze to none other than Ashido Mina.

~

“What are you guys doing here?” Sero asked, from his new perch to Bakugou's right, on the chair he pulled up to Katsuki and Denki's table. Todoroki stood next to him and Ashido sat to Katsuki's left.

“None of your goddamn business, soy sauce face,'' Katsuki glared. He loved his friends, however reluctantly. But he wanted some alone time with his boyfriend goddammit. We already live together, what the hell else do you want, hah?

“I did notice that you guys have been leaving campus alot lately, denki, but i didn’t realize you guys were going together.” Ashido pried.

“Well yeah! We are bros, you know!” Denki responds, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“So are we!” Sero exclaimed, “Why don’t you ever take me out for coffee?”

“Because you’re fucking annoying.”

“And Denki's not?” Todoroki stated from where he leaned on sero’s chair.

“What did you just say icy hot?” Katsuki’s hands sparked.

“Is Kaminari not annoying to you as well?” Todoroki blinked.

“Of course not!” Denki grins, standing up from his chair, and waking over to Katsuki. “He loves me~! Right, babe?” He promptly planted himself in Katsuki’s lap.

“Whatever,” Katsuki looked away, but wrapped his arms around Denki's waist none the less.

Denki giggled and kissed katsuki on the cheek. “He’s just shy.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes, and pinched Denki’s thigh.

“Ow! What the fuck?!” Denki laughed.

“Oh. My. God.” Ashido gasped. “Oh my god! They’re dating!”

Denki looked around at his friends' reactions. Todoroki had moved to sit in denki’s chair, and had a faint smile on his face. Hey, that’s a major reaction out of mr. stoic. Mina had stood up and was pointing at them, still unable to believe that she hadn’t noticed before. She was still shouting at them, asking how long they’d been together, and why she didn’t know about it. Sero was about to fall out of his chair laughing. They were causing a scene. Practically the whole cafe was staring.

Denki was thriving off of the attention, but Katsuki put a stop to it. “Alright you damn extras, get out of here! Let me have a fucking date in peace!”

Todoroki, the saint he is, guided sero and ashido out of the cafe, but not before looking at bakugou and stating, “Remember this next time you think we aren’t friends.” He fucking smiled too, that damn bastard.

Bakugou averted his attention to the boy in his lap. “Why are you like this?” He pressed his forehead against Denki’s.

“I don’t know, but you love me anyway.” Denki smiled.

[illuminating-dragons]

Dreams and Visions (12/51): Party at the Yard

Time Period: BBC

Chapter Summary:  Sherlock and John go to a party thrown by Scotland Yard, and some misunderstandings are cleared up. Set a month after ‘A Matter of Family’. 

Read it on AO3

“Why are we here?”

“Well, several hundred years ago, our ancestors made the decision to procreate—”

“Sherlock, I will not hesitate to murder you in front of people.”

“Even at the Yard? Doctor, you’re slipping.”

John glared at his partner, who smirked back.

On an ordinary Saturday night with no case to distract them, they would have gone back to Baker Street and used the time to watch bad telly, catch up on their blogs, etc. Now that they were a couple, they often included cuddles (which Sherlock called 'physical bonding ') or simple make-out sessions (Sherlock didn't have a name for those) to the mix.

But when were their lives ever ordinary?

This Saturday night was being spent at the Yard's spring party. Why was this party being held? John couldn't tell you. Greg had sent them a text, and they were going. That was all Sherlock would say.

It wasn't that John disliked the people at the Yard. Some, like Greg (and Dimmock somehow) were friends outside of the crime scenes and interview rooms. Others like Johnson and Bradstreet were acquaintances that he enjoyed talking to, although they didn't try to spend time together outside of work. There were a few rare birds like Donovan and Anderson who he actively disliked, but they were easy enough to avoid even in a small room like this.

It was just that...well, they'd been busy all week and John, if he'd had his own choice, would have rather stayed at home and had some 'physical bonding' in front of the telly with some takeaway. Why not?

But Sherlock had decided to be sociable, and really, Sherlock rarely asked for this kind of thing. Why not go along?

Sherlock looked at him sideways. "If you don't want to stay we can leave," he said seriously.

John shrugged. "If you want to stay that's fine. I just want to know if I'm going to have to make a hasty exit if my partner  gets caught snooping through old cold cases or something."

Sherlock chuckled. "I'm planning nothing of the sort." He put a wiry arm around John's waist, stooping a bit to do so. "I just thought it would be a change of venue from our usual rendezvous."

Sherlock hated calling their dates 'dates'; he'd do it if pressed, but 'rendezvous', 'outings' and 'time together' were his preferred terms. It was only after one too many glasses of wine at Angelo’s that he’d confessed that he thought those words sounded more ‘romantic’. John never let on that he knew.

John leaned his head against Sherlock's shoulder. "You know you don't have to keep coming up with new places to...rendezvous, right? I'm perfectly happy with what we already do."

Sherlock didn't answer for a moment. "I know, John. But we rarely spend any time with your...friends, as a couple. I wanted to rectify that situation."

John couldn't help it--he barked out a laugh. "Have you been reading those magazines again?"

Sherlock's vehement shake of his head didn't fool him for a moment.

"Idiot," he said fondly. "Tell you what, as much as I love showing you off, if you don't really want to stay we can leave. We can go for drinks with Dimmock and Greg some other time, you know."

Sherlock shrugged. "That's not completely necessary."

"We'll do it, if you want," John said firmly. "Why don't we mingle for a while and then pretend we've got some write-ups to do? Then we can go home."

"Why don't we just leave right away?"

"That's rude, dear." John rolled his eyes fondly at Sherlock's distasteful expression. "Go on, talk to Greg, he looks a bit lonely. I'll go see if Bradstreet wants to talk about his daughter again."

Sherlock groaned. "He always wants to talk about that ridiculous baby."

"Well then I'll oblige him," John replied. "I'll see you soon, then?"

To his surprise Sherlock drew him close and kissed him. "Of course, my dear John," he said. "And then we'll go home."

There was something about the promise in his voice that made John shiver. He did his best not to show it, but by the amused look in Sherlock's eyes he hadn't succeeded.

Had Sherlock actually meant…well, what he seemed to have meant?

"Right," he said, "I'm going to look for Bradstreet."

John managed to—well, not quite forget, that would be nearly impossible, but he did put Sherlock's hint out of his mind as Bradstreet chatted enthusiastically about his daughter. Bradstreet was one of the few men John had ever met who'd campaigned successfully and enthusiastically for paternal leave. Now that his daughter Abby was six months old he was back at the Yard, but it was currently only part-time and there were rumours that he was planning to retire and go into something less dangerous.

Bradstreet confirmed this.

"I can't bear to think of missing her life," he confided to John over the punch bowl. He was holding a picture of the baby, with clouds of blonde hair and her father's huge green eyes. "I mean I get it, people balance jobs and kids, but Margie's job pays quite well, and I'm thinking if I stay home with her then we'll save on childcare, won't we?"

"If that's what you want to do, you should talk it over with Marge," John answered. He'd no children, of course, but he could understand the love in Bradstreet's eyes. "If she agrees...you're a brilliant policeman, Bradstreet, and it'd be a shame if you left, but this is about what's best for you and your family."

Bradstreet's eyes shone. "Thanks, John. And for goodness sake, Arthur is fine."

John shook his hand. "Best of luck to you and your family, Arthur, no matter what you decide."

He could tell from Arthur's relaxed stance as he walked away that he'd made his decision. Sometimes you just need a bit of a shove to do what you already know you want, John reflected, thinking of the help he'd gotten to go after Sherlock.

Thinking of his partner, he turned and nearly walked straight into Donovan.

"Sorry," he said, and tried to move past her.

Donovan stayed put.

"Excuse me," John said, and once more attempted to move around her. This time she deliberately blocked his path.

"Oi, what's the idea, Donovan? I'm trying to—"

"Where's your boyfriend?" Donovan asked. Her lips were twitching, like she could see the last hider in Hide-and-Seek but didn't want to give the game away just yet. "Shouldn't you be attached to his hip?"

John rolled his eyes and turned around.

"Better hurry back to him before he gets bored," Donovan called, just loud enough for John to hear over the music.

John turned to face her. "Excuse me?"

"Come off it." Donovan was smiling now, and there was a pity in her face that John decidedly didn't like. "How long have you two been together now, hm? Three months?"

"Three months on Tuesday," John said evenly. "What exactly does that have to do with you? Or anything?"

Donovan stepped closer. "That's quite long for the Freak's attention span."

John's hands curled into fists. "Shut up, Sergeant."

She shook her head. "I'm trying to help you, Doctor."

"Really? How is that?" Against his will (he was a grown man and could look after himself, thank you very much) John started looking around for Sherlock. He was standing near the far wall, talking to Greg. He wouldn’t be able to hear John from that distance without attracting attention.

"How much longer do you think he's going to let this go on?" Donovan challenged. "I'm sure you're a nice little distraction for now—I don't think he's ever managed to keep someone into his bed for this long—"

She stopped and raised her eyebrows at John’s cough. John cursed himself. How had he fallen for that?

"You two haven't—there's no way, you're both grown men!"

"This is none of your business," John hissed. No one was watching them, but he felt his face grow hot. Thank god for ridiculously loud music.

Donovan raised her eyebrows. "Well, you might last longer than I thought. Unless when he does take you to bed you disappoint him."

John said nothing. He had nothing to be ashamed of as far as his sexual prowess, although he was certainly more used to being with women than men. But there was still that worry, that concern that although the physical side of things had been progressing slowly and with great enjoyment on both their parts, that if they went all the way that Sherlock would find him wanting. Because what was he, really, almost four years older than his partner, scarred and...ordinary.

"So you already know," Donovan said. "Or at least you suspect." She moved closer. "John, why would he want to be with you for the long term? You're nothing like him—you can't keep up with him any more than we can. What can you possibly give him that will keep his attention? He's no Prince Charming now, that's clear as day. What's he going to be like when he realizes that you're boring?"

John couldn't help it. He flinched back a bit.

"Better to go now, don't you think?" Donovan asked soothingly. "He's cruellest to those who disappoint him. you've seen that. Don't let him find out those things on his own. Make some excuse. I can help you find a cheap flat if you like—"

"That is enough," Sherlock hissed.

John spun around to find Sherlock towering over him, glaring at Donovan, face twisted in a snarl.

"Don't you dare speak to him that way." While Donovan had kept her voice low, Sherlock raised his, drawing the attention of people nearby. John wanted dearly to look at his feet, but just then Sherlock shifted his gaze to him. The anger bled out of Sherlock's eyes, but the passion remained.

"Why are you letting her speak like this, John? You're wasting your time and allowing Donovan to waste her breath, though I suppose the latter's not so terrible..."

John didn't reply. He was having trouble holding Sherlock's gaze, and it wasn't due to the height difference that sometimes caused a crick in his neck, in both their necks. If he was taller maybe Sherlock wouldn't have to worry about that.

Sherlock raised his eyebrows as he searched John's face intently. "You...you don't actually believe that, do you?"

"Believe what, exactly?" John asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

Sherlock stared at him in astonishment. "You...you do, don't you? John, how could I possibly be bored by you?"

Now there were definitely people staring. John swallowed and lowered his gaze. "Of course you'll get bored of me."

Sherlock didn't answer.

"It has nothing to do with you," John said hurriedly, hoping to erase some of Donovan's cruel words. "I just know...look, I'm ordinary, okay? I'm not exactly handsome and I'm too soft and I'm too quick to believe the best of people and I'm everything you consider weak, and I'm not saying that I want to change myself but...we're not really matched for life, are we? Definitely not as lovers. So don't fret about ending it, whenever you want. You've made me happy, Sherlock, and I hope I've done the same for you, but if you get tired of me just tell me, alright? Promise me you'll do me that courtesy?"

John drew in a deep breath and continued to stare at the floor. Dimly he realized that the music had stopped playing and that meant everyone had just heard that and he shouldn't have ever said that in front of people but the words couldn't stop once they started coming because they'd been in his head for so long, even before they became lovers, and...

In an instant Sherlock had yanked him close, wrapping around him so completely that John could no longer tell if anyone else was in the room, could only feel and see Sherlock.

"Shut up," Sherlock ordered, his voice muffled in John's hair. "Shut up, don't you dare...don't you DARE say things like that."

John struggled, but he didn't really want Sherlock to let go anyways and he didn't want to crush his own hopes with movement.

"How could I ever be bored by you?" Sherlock said wonderingly, stroking a hand through John's boring blond hair. "John Watson, you surprise me every day."

Startled, John tilted his face up to look into his partner's eyes. "I do?"

"Of course you do," Sherlock said with a strangled laugh. "You've surprised me from the day we met, with everything you are. That's quite a reliable trend at this point, wouldn't you say? And more to the point—" he kept his arms firmly around John even as he tried to step away, "there's so much more I want to do with you, all around the world, in London, at home. There's thousands of things left to learn about each other. I want to see what you're like in two months, in two years, in two decades. I want to see what you become, and what we become together. All those possibilities, how could that ever be boring?"

John bit his lip hard. You are an soldier, and you don't cry.

"Then I suppose there's the important matter of my being in love with you." Sherlock's voice had gone softer, deeper. "And I'm not under any false illusions, John—I see who and what you are, more so than most people, wouldn't you agree? I'm in love with the person you are, for everything you are, even the parts of you that you despise." He put a hand on John's cheek, caressing him. "How could you ever be boring?"

John's eyes apparently decided that soldiers do cry after all.

"What's wrong?" Sherlock said urgently. "What's happened, what did I do?"

John dragged him down and kissed him. It was strange, all those people who said that John was the one who had the way with words. On a computer screen, maybe. But somehow Sherlock had known exactly what John needed to hear and had said it despite their audience, despite his 'reputation', despite every single factor raised against men who want to be sentimental.

John couldn't think of how to say anything back even half so well.

They'd made their excuses after that, leaving to a cheering crowd. Sherlock hadn't let go of John's hand the entire way home, and insisted on sitting right next to him, curled close in the back of the cab.

When they reached their silent flat, John attempted to let go of Sherlock's hand.

Sherlock didn't let him, and pinned him against the wall instead to kiss him more thoroughly than he had at the party. John moaned into the kiss, tightening his free hand into Sherlock's hair.

Sherlock broke the kiss first. "Why didn't you answer Donovan's question?"

John tried to collect his thoughts. "Which question?"

"If you'd cut her off there she would have stopped inquiring," Sherlock answered. "Why didn't you tell her why we haven't consummated our relationship?"

John shrugged. "It's not any of her business."

"But it has nothing to do with you, I told you I wasn't ready," Sherlock said, frowning.

"And that's none of her business," John replied. "You're not the only one who can defend their partner, you know?"

Sherlock studied him. "Ah," he said with some surprise. "You haven't been ready either, have you?"

John bit his lip, worry curling in his stomach again at the thought of baring himself completely, physical and emotional insecurities on display. "I'm just...I want to be good for you."

Sherlock leaned in and kissed him again, slow and sweet. John leaned against the wall, trying to stay upright.

Sherlock kissed up his jaw. "And what if I said I was ready now, John? More than ready?"

John shivered. "I..." then he realized something. "You said it."

"Said what?"

"You said that you loved me," John said. "Back at the party. That's the first time you've ever said it aloud instead of just agreeing with me."

"Is it really?" Sherlock looked contrite. "But you knew it, didn't you?"

John smiled and took a deep breath. "I should have," he answered. "I should have believed it every time you told me, every time you've shown me, but...I don't think I've believed it until now. It felt like—"

"A dream?" John nodded, nestling his face against Sherlock's shoulder.

“I suppose neither of us can be blamed for thinking that,” Sherlock murmured.

They held still for a moment, arms around each other.

"John, are you ready?"

"Yes," John said, and there was no more doubt, no more worry that he would give in because it was expected of him. Sherlock was ready, and so was he.

"Then let's go to bed," Sherlock said, his deep voice carrying a new note, the same promise from the party but made much stronger. "There are many ways of showing love in the…physical sense, John Watson, and I think we should explore them, don't you?"

John laughed. "Together," he promised, and kissed him.