An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
A twist on the traditional “fake boyfriend” fic for allfinehere for Springlockexchange. Um….did I, um, maybe get carried away and write thousands of words more than necessary? Yes, forgive me. It’s long and ubeta’d but such fun to write these two idiots.
Short excerpt that can sort of stand on its own:
“Would you—would you like to come up for coffee?” Sherlock blurted out as the cab pulled up in front of 221B.
He said it in a way that came off as perfectly spontaneous and adventurous but in truth he had been planning this moment (this illusion of authenticity and timidness) since they had been cracking open fortune cookies in the Chinese restaurant (Sherlock had managed to guess one out of three). John Watson hesitated for a long moment. Sherlock found that he was genuinely disappointed that the man was not more enthusiastic about his invitation and a little afraid he had misinterpreted the nature of his interest entirely. More important than his hurt pride, however, was that he needed John Watson to be wooed in order to carry out the mission Mycroft had burdened him with.
Ah, well, he’d have to find another (less romantic) avenue to John Watson’s secrets.
“Never mind,” he said hastily, opening the door to get out of the cab. “I seem to have misunderstood—“
But suddenly there was a warm hand on his, keeping him in place. “You didn’t misunderstand a single thing,” John said to him in a low whisper, licking his lips. “This is fine for both of us, thank you,” he said to the driver and paid for the cab.
He never let go of Sherlock’s hand. Odd. Not when he was paying the cabbie, not when Sherlock struggled to unlock the door with one hand, not when they struggled up the stairs, not when they stumbled into the flat.They walked slowly, letting the charged silence stretch between them.
“Sorry about the—er, mess,” Sherlock said, waving his free hand around to indicate the general state of the sitting room, as John’s free hand slipped around his waist.
John chuckled, still holding his hand with his left and pulling him close with the other. “It’s charming,” he said, his breath tickling the nape of Sherlock’s neck. “It suits you.”
Sherlock’s eyes fluttered closed as he felt the ghost of John’s lips trailing along his jaw. The hands holding him by the waist were firm, one thumb gently massaging circles on the small of his back. And Sherlock realized after a moment that he was just standing there uselessly, clutching at John’s arms. This really wasn’t his area. He had invited John upstairs with the hopes of shagging him into wanting a second date but the likelihood that he would botch this up was near certain and he needed to guide the night back to safe territory if he didn’t want to put John off entirely.
“Can I get you tea?” Sherlock ventured, struggling to speak evenly.
“What would you like?”
“You,” said John and then pressed him against the door and kissed him.
Guys. GUYS. THIS IS AMAZINGGG HOLY HELL I am just blown away that someone wrote such a long and perfect fic for me! lemmonysnippets, you are fantastic! Thank you SO MUCH!!! <3