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raina-at · 11 months

Text

Clues

“And where are you off to?” John asks, looking up from his textbook. He’s sitting in the kitchen, studying for his anatomy exam and eating chips.

Sherlock passes by the table and takes a chip from the paper plate John is holding out in an unspoken invitation. “Molly needs help with organic chemistry.”

John smiles at him fondly. “That’s awfully nice of you, sacrificing your Friday night to help her.”

Sherlock rolls his eyes. “She’s going to be Anderson’s TA next semester, meaning she’ll have access to the lab after hours. It’s a simple exchange.”

“Yes, yes, you keep telling yourself that, much easier to pretend you couldn’t just break into the lab like you’ve done all of last year, instead of admitting that Molly’s your friend and that’s why you’re helping her.”

Sherlock helps himself to another chip. “Shut up,” he says, then pops the chip into his mouth, making John laugh.

The sound shivers down Sherlock’s spine like a warm caress, making him feel warm all over. He’s long since stopped asking himself why making John laugh is the best feeling in the world, he’s just accepted that it is.

“Fine, go share your big genius brain with the girl who isn’t your friend at all, of course,” John answers. He gets up and nudges Sherlock with his shoulder as he passes to the sofa. “Text me if you’re going to spend the night, okay?”

“Yes, mother,” Sherlock says with mock annoyance.

John flips Sherlock off absently, already engrossed in his textbook again. “Finish off the chips, will you,” he says absently.

Sherlock shrugs into his coat and grabs the chips from the table to have on his way. “Don’t wait up,” he says in lieu of goodbye and closes the door behind him.

*-*

“So, if you look at the molecular structure of- Molly, are you listening to a word I’m saying?”

Molly looks up from her textbook and blushes scarlet. “I’m so sorry, Sherlock, I’m just-”

“Just what? Ungrateful? Inattentive? Wasting my time?” Sherlock ticks the points off his fingers. “Uninterested in passing this course? Willing to throw your future away?”

Molly drops her head, her forehead meeting her textbook with a painful-sounding thud. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing…”

Sherlock sighs. “Let me guess. This is about a boy.”

“Yes,” Molly all but wails. “I’m being so stupid! But I can’t stop thinking about him. He’s so handsome” She lifts her head a bit, looking at Sherlock with a pleading expression. “You know Greg? From the rugby team?”

Sherlock nods, his anger abating somewhat. Greg apparently has a debilitating effect on girls. He’s noticed it on several occasions where John dragged him to social gatherings. The effect is entirely lost on Sherlock himself, though he acknowledges that Greg is good looking. Maybe it’s because Greg is so unquestioningly straight, but then again, so is John, and John’s mere presence both enhances Sherlock’s intellect and has the ability to derail it completely. So he sympathises with Molly. To an extent.

“What would it take for you to be able to actually concentrate on what we’re doing?” he asks, checking his watch. It’s only nine, maybe they can save some of this study session.

“If I knew for sure that he’s not interested, I could put it out of my mind. I know he likes me, but I’m not sure if we’re just mates, or if he wants to take it further.” She pulls out what looks like a battered women’s magazine. “There’s a list of clues here. Whether someone likes you. Maybe we could….” she trails off, giving Sherlock a hopeful smile.

Sherlock sighs. “Let’s have it then.”

“Okay, clue one: He’s looking for excuses to touch you.”

“Sounds a bit fishy,” Sherlock says, waggling his hand in a ‘not sure about that’ gesture, thinking of how John constantly bumps against him, puts a hand on his shoulder, or his arm. “Friends touch quite often as well.”

“He did touch my arm this afternoon,” Molly says, musing aloud. “I’m going to mark it down as a yes.”

Sherlock decides he needs a control group. He’ll compare the clues on the list to things normal friends — like he and John — do all the time.

“Go on.”

“Clue two: Shares food. Greg gave me half of his muffin last week.”

John sharing his chips without even a second thought. “Meaningless. Next.”

“Compliments you. Greg told me I’m really smart the other day, does that count?”

John calls him brilliant and amazing all the time. “No. Friends like each other, that’s not an indicator for romantic attraction.”

“One or two of these are normal among friends, it says here. If you get seven or eight out of ten, he’s interested in more,” Molly muses, but continues reading the clues out when Sherlock makes a ‘get on with it’ gesture. “Four: Shows concern for your wellbeing.”

Text me when you stay over. Finish my chips. Do you want some tea? “Friends do that. Next.”

“Five: Goes fishing for information about your romantic life. Greg did ask me if I have plans for the weekend, do you think he might- Sherlock, are you listening to me?”

Do you have a girlfriend?

Not really my area.

Do you have a boyfriend, then?

Their first conversation over dinner the evening John moved in, after Mike introduced them as potential flatmates.

“Read the next clue.”

Molly looks down at the paper. “Shows interest in your hobbies.”

John leaning over him and looking at crime scene pictures, John listening to him go on about the chemistry of tobacco ash and the infinite varieties of London soil, John’s enthusiasm for his violin…

Sherlock swallows. “Next.”

“Initiates contact, makes plans.”

He takes out his phone and looks at his last ten text alerts. They’re all from John.

“Next.”

“Wants to meet your family.”

Well, nobody wants to meet Mycroft, but John usually offers him tea when he comes over, and John’s shown a certain amount of — morbid — curiosity about their parents.

“Next.”

“Blows off people and plans to spend time with you.”

“And the last one?” Sherlock asks, unsure if what he feels is hope or dread.

“Lots of eye contact.”

“Molly,” Sherlock croaks, unsteadily. “I have to go.”

*-*

The way home takes thirty minutes and that’s time enough for Sherlock to do some serious thinking on the subject of John Watson, and what Sherlock wants from him.

Facts: John is intelligent, smart, funny, good company, he smells good, his eyes are extraordinary, he’s the only person Sherlock could envision living with and his laugh makes Sherlock shiver.

He comes to the following conclusions: a) He’s in love with John, and has been since they met. b) He’s a massive idiot.

*-*

Sherlock bursts into John’s bedroom without knocking. “Do you like me?”

John, who was fast asleep face down on his textbook, sits up, blinking against the light. “What?”

“You know how much I hate repeating myself,” Sherlock says, running a hand through his hair, gesturing in agitation. “Do you like me?” he asks, gesturing between the two of them.

John blinks, obviously still half asleep. “Um…”

“Answer the question!” Sherlock snaps, irritated.

“I’m not even sure I know what the question is,” John says, frowning at Sherlock, confused. “You storm in here in the middle of the night and yell incoherent nonsense at me, and you’re irritated at me?”

“We got ten out of ten, John! Ten out of ten!” Sherlock yells, dimly aware that this doesn’t exactly help John with anything, but too agitated to care. “You touch me all the time, you care about me, you let me rant at you, you feed me, you’re polite to my brother, you haven’t been on a date for months,” Sherlock enumerates the points, checking them off with his fingers. “I forget the rest, but you see the point, don’t you?”

“I’m not sure I do,” John says, rubbing a tired hand over his forehead. “You asked if I like you. Of course I do, we’re friends.”

“Yes, obviously, but do you like me? Like me, like me? Have sexual and/or romantic interest in me? The clues say you do, and the clues never lie!”

John looks distinctly uncomfortable, and he’s even blushing a bit, which Sherlock rates as a very good sign. “Um…” he rubs the back of his neck, a classic nervous tell, then he looks up at Sherlock, and there’s that eye contact the article was talking about. “Would that be a problem?”

Sherlock releases a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. “Of course not, you absolute idiot. Why do you think I endure your dreadfully slow typing, your inability to pick up your dirty socks from the bathroom floor and your horrid taste in music? I’m obviously completely besotted with you and have been for a while now. Granted, I only realised right now but-”

He doesn’t get any further because John pulls him down to the bed, rolls on top of him and starts kissing him like there’s nothing better to do in the whole entire world, a sentiment Sherlock is in complete agreement with.

“I think we’re done talking for now,” John says with a wicked grin as he pulls back a bit to look at Sherlock.

Sherlock quite agrees and pulls John down for another round of snogging.

He makes a mental note to thank Molly in the morning. Then he dismisses everything that’s not John from his mind. It’s surprisingly easy.

Have a bit of fluffy Unilock with awkward boys today. This got long, that's why I cut it.

Thanks for the prompt and the tag, @calaisreno

Tagging a few people to join the fun: @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @jrow @fluffbyday-smutbynight @topsyturvy-turtely @totallysilvergirl @khorazir @catlock-holmes @meetinginsamarra @lisbeth-kk

#johnlock #bbc sherlock #johnlock fic #my fic #microfic #may challenge #clues #Unilock #fluff #humour

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