#greaser!sherlock

[gattosiamese]

Greaser!Lock :) That would be John handing a band-aid to Sherlock who is sitting down after gettin out from a fight… so it’s Sherlock time to blush a little! :D I like to think that John’s hand is shaking like mad! :D

[gattosiamese]

I recently discovered to be in love with Greaserlock so I wanted to play a small part in this wonderful, cute and hella hot au! XD “Well-a well-a well-a huh Tell me more, tell me more Was it love at first sight?” :D

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

Anonymous: Greaserlock in which John and Sherlock are about to graduate and they discuss their future after high school. Fluff is appreciated!! (P.S. I love everything you write!! You are so wonderful!!!)

((I don't know if you guys can tell or not, but I'm on a hardcore Greaser!lock kick. I promise I'll stop soon, though. Maybe. Also, YOU'RE WONDERFUL FOR SAYING THAT BLESS YOU.))

John teetered uncomfortably on the front edge of the leather seat of Sherlock's car but he didn't care because he and Sherlock were laying face to face and kissing at the town's makeout spot, their hands tangled in each other's clothes and hair and their breath mingling and turning the windows, chilled by the spring night, into a foggy barrier between them and the rest of the world.

Eventually, though, not even Sherlock's lips were enough to distract him from the stresses that were being put on him at the moment, and of course Sherlock immediately noticed it when John's attention started to wander from their heated makeout to something else. He nipped at John's bottom lip to try to regain his attention, but John still pulled away and Sherlock sighed in exasperation.

"Johnny, I haven't seen you in two and a half weeks, can't we please just enjoy ourselves?" Sherlock sighed and John simply stared at him for a moment or two, just committing the sight of him, young and beautiful and thoroughly dishevelled, to memory before he started talking.

"Sher, I think we need to break up."

Sherlock went perfectly still in his arms and stared at him unblinkingly for longer than could ever be comfortable, no matter how much he loved Sherlock.

"Uh...Care to say something?" John finally asked hesitantly and heartbreak crashed onto Sherlock's features without warning, his usual mask of disinterest shattering completely under the onslaught of his emotions.

"What did I do wrong?" Sherlock asked in a small voice and John reached up to brush his slightly damp hair away from his forehead and temple with a tender push of his fingers.

"Nothing, baby," John murmured soothingly and Sherlock melted into him after a moment of hesitation, clearly unsure of where this was headed. "Nothing. We just..we have to be realistic about where we're going to be in a month," John added and Sherlock immediately pulled back to look at him suspiciously, sitting up after a second and staring straight ahead.

"You don't want to continue a relationship after graduation," he stated, his tone never even hinting towards a question.

John sat up and slid across the seat to lean against the opposite side of the car to stare across at Sherlock's profile, poorly illuminated by the moonlight filtering in through the condensation on the windows, casting him in a soft, diffuse sort of white light and John's heart ached so badly he felt he could cry right then and there, though he knew he wouldn't. 

"I would love to continue a relationship with you for the rest of my life," John admitted almost silently, terrified by the truth behind his own statement that he'd never dared to say aloud before, not even to himself.

Sherlock was immediately completely focused on him, the force of his concentration seeming to make it impossible for John to breathe in the space of the small backseat of Sherlock's two-door hotrod.

"Then why are you dumping me?"

"I'm not dumping you, Sherlock, I'm just saying we have to be realistic. We can hide it now, but what are we supposed to do when we're...thirty, and we've got jobs and other people have long ago started their families and we're still living together and with no obvious sign that we plan to separate and start our own families? What then?"

"Then we say 'to hell with it' and move somewhere new!" Sherlock exclaimed and John stared at him wordlessly until he calmed down a bit from his outburst.

"Sherlock, do you want a future with me?" John asked softly, and Sherlock's lips pressed into a tight, trembling line as he nodded resolutely and John slid across the seat to him to wrap him up in a comforting hug, pulling Sherlock down against his chest and running his fingers through his hair, playing with the greased strands until they were starting to show more of Sherlock's natural curl that the waves that he carefully gelled them into every morning.

"We could at least attend college together, could we not?"

"You? Go to college?" John asked incredulously and Sherlock shrugged slightly.

"I'll do anything to stay with you. I'll sit through six years of medical school with you to stick around, I'll make any excuse."

John considered that as he rubbed Sherlock's back softly and then he was abruptly leaning down to kiss him again, his mouth hungry and greedy on Sherlock's mouth that tasted like cigarettes and whiskey and the toothpaste he'd used to attempt to cover it up for John's benefit, and John loved him for it.

"We could move to New York. I heard it's not so bad out there for..guys like us. You could work in a bodyshop while I'm in class, and we could share an apartment. We'd keep it hidden, we could do it."

Sherlock looked at John hopefully and then practically tackled him to the seat, shoving his hands under his letter-sweater and yanking it off over his head to start kissing his chest through his thin cotton undershirt.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes," Sherlock panted in a low voice, his movements erratic and happy and John laughed giddily as Sherlock kissed every conceivable inch of his body that he could reach in the limited space.

"I love you, Sherlock Holmes," John managed to whisper and Sherlock propped himself up on one hand beside John's head before he grinned and looked up, reaching his free hand out towards the back window, where the moonlight was coming in. Slowly and deliberately, he wrote his own initials, SH, and then John's, JW, and in the space between the two he drew a heart, his pale fingertip wiping away the condensation created by the heat of their bodies and leaving something cliche and beautiful and wonderful in its place, and John grinned as he tugged Sherlock down by the lapels of his leather jacket to kiss him roughly and prove just how much he loved his greaser. 

[guitarriffsandamazingships]

You taste good, Johnny - Greaserlock, Johnlock AU - A BIT NSFW

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You both like johnlock.

You: [ Johnlock, Greaser!lock AU ] Sherlock pulled up to the curb, parking his bike with accuracy, and shutting it off. He slid off, and walked to the lawn of the house he had been meaning to visit many times. Johnny lived here, the square with the golden hair, neat clothes, and perfect grades. Everything was golden about the boy, it seemed, but Sherlock was the only one who knew otherwise. John had a hidden hunger inside him, a joy for the rush. Hell, Sherlock had even taught little Johnny how to snog in the backseat of his hot rod about a week ago. For Sherlock, he'd never been interested in someone dull, but there was something so unique about John. He enjoyed the mystery and danger of teaching John how to live and to be rebellious. Picking up some stones, the greaser tossed them, one at a time. He made sure they hit John's window, so the boy would notice his presence. He hoped Johnny would come out and go for a drive with him, or at least let him come up. It was late, and his parents were most likely asleep anyhow.

Stranger: John was reclining on his bed when he heard the first chip of a pebble against his window. He frowned slightly, turning his head and narrowing his eyes. A bird? He settled down to read his book again. His heart gave a leap when he heard a second stone strike glass, and the blond immediately hurried to open the window without even a hint of hesitation. It had to be Sherlock. He beamed from ear to ear when he stuck his head outside, receiving a faceful of cool night air, and the even better sight of Sherlock Holmes standing on his lawn. "Sherlock?" he chuckled softly, leaning down onto the windowsill and feeling his cheeks flush a little despite the cold. "What are you doing here?"

You: Sherlock tossed a rock up and down in his hand, and a wide smirk grew on his lips. John had hardly wasted much time trying to get to the window to see what it was. He must have been expecting him. That thought had quite the amount of pride welling up in Sherlock's chest. What was it about John? He was so normal, yet so /not/ normal. He intrigued Sherlock, like a difficult puzzle, but somehow Sherlock hadn't lost interest. Not like he normally did. Nonetheless, the brunet man gave a roll of his eyes, and spoke in a hushed voice. Wouldn't want to wake Johnny's parents. "Afternoon, Johnny. I /was/ hoping you and I could spend a bit of time together. Your rents are asleep, they won't notice a thing." His eyes scanned the face that looked down on him, and he smirked even wider, "Come on, Watson, if you don't want to go out, at least let me up."

Stranger: The blond practically brimmed with delight at that, his heart fluttering in his chest. He couldn't get over the effect Sherlock had in him, the way that self-assured smirk caused his belly to somersault and his cheeks to burn. Sherlock was so effortlessly... sexy, and dangerous. Perhaps it was the danger that John liked, the complete spontaneity and disregard for the rules after years of trying his very hardest to live by them. He knew his parents would be furious with him for agreeing, but Sherlock was the oxygen to the tiny spark of rebellion in John Watson. "Just a minute, I'll let you in." He moved from the window as quickly as he could without making a sound, padding down the stairs barefoot and creeping to the front door. His parents slept like the dead anyway, but it was always better to be on the safe side. He grinned as he reached the front door and unlocked it, pulling it open to meet Sherlock's smirking, iridescent eyes. "Hello."

You: Sherlock grinned this time, tossing the rock aside as he made his way to the front door of John's house. It was such a typical and dull place to live, but John's rents weren't exactly the most lively of the bunch anyhow. Sherlock knew John's father was a drunk, and his mother spent all of her time working at the hospital. When they were home, they made sure that John and Harry were in perfect order. They even had a curfew. Sherlock had scoffed at that when Johnny had told him. Standing by the door, he was greeted by the sight of John's lovely smile when the door was pulled open. "John," Sherlock addressed, with a nod of his head and another smirk. "This is terribly risky of you, you know. They could wake up any moment.. Let's just hope they don't while we're... busy." He gave the blond a wink, knowing full well it would result in rose coloured cheeks.

Stranger: John's cheeks flushed deeply at that, the wink and the almost salacious tone in Sherlock's voice causing him to avert his eyes and bite gently into his lower lip. "L-let's hope." he replied, stepping back to let Sherlock step over the threshold. As usual, the house was in pristine order, without so much as a mug or spoon out of place. "Do you want a drink or anything?" John's parents had always taught him to be hospitable when there were guests, and the habit was difficult to crack. He'd almost asked for Sherlock's leather jacket before he remembered that the older boy seldom removed it at all. He led Sherlock into the living room, though it was clear from the surgical cleanliness of the place that there hadn't been very much living done there at all.

You: "No need to worry, John," Sherlock replied, his eyes scanning the inside of the home. John spent most of his time in his room, then. The living room was in perfect order, and to be honest it was terribly repulsive. Sherlock calculated how each object was set up, and he couldn't help but let out the tiniest scoff when he noticed a spoon was a few centimeters out of place. "You spend most of your time in your room," he concluded, turning his eyes to John. He gave him a gentle smile this time, and made sure he kept standing, "we could always go there. I wouldn't want to mess up the pristine order of all the furniture in your home." Not only would they be more comfortable in the room, Sherlock knew he might just be able to snog Johnny again. It'd been quite excellent last time. The blond was inexperienced, but he learned rather quick. And one of the best sights was to see John all disheveled after they locked lips. His hair would be mussed, his jumper wrinkled, his lips swollen, his eyes dark with an innocent hunger. It was a sight only Sherlock got to see, and he savored it.

Stranger: "Sure, good idea. Just watch the second step on the stairs - it's creaky." John whispered with a small smile. It was thrilling, the idea of leading Sherlock up to his room in the dead of night when he ought to have been sleeping. His parents would go ballistic if they knew he was snogging a greaser, let alone a male one, let alone in the privacy of his bedroom and the back seat of the "deathtrap" Sherlock drove. John giggled softly to himself before taking Sherlock by the hand and leading by example, deflty avoiding the second step and continuing up the stairs. He could hear his father snoring loudly, and wasn't perturbed in the least by the sliver of light visible underneath the door of Harry's bedroom; as if she'd ever be able to rat him out with everything he knew about her. He silently slipped into his bedroom with Sherlock in tow, closing and locking the door as a precaution. "Sorry it's... boring." He offered feebly. There wasn't much in John's bedroom. A bed, the necessary bedroom furniture, and a myriad of books.

You: Sherlock followed, maneuvering past the second step as he had been asked, and letting John lead him to his room. The brunet memorized the route, for future reference. Someday he might just have to crawl in an open window to sneak past John's parents, and up to his room. Once they had slipped inside the small bedroom, Sherlock smirked a bit. It was so, /John/. Books filled the numerous shelves. The golden boy always had his nose stuck in one, during lunch and when he wasn't studying. "John, don't waste your time apologizing. It may be filled with mundane things, but that doesn't mean it's boring." Sherlock didn't stick up for anyone. And yet, there he was, saying some nonsense to try and make John feel more comfortable. He gave a soft sigh, shoved his hands in his pockets, and smiled casually. "I'd of thought you'd be sleeping now." He took a few steps forwards, right into the other's personal space, and then looked down at him with a sly smile.

You: *instead of nonsense, put wisdom.

Stranger: "I was reading." John blurted, immediately feeling like a complete idiot. Of course he was reading; what else was there to do in here? He smiled awkwardly and cleared his throat. "I mean, I couldn't sleep. So I... Started reading, I suppose." The shy flush of John's cheeks had returned with Sherlock's rumbling voice, the scent of his aftershave mingled with leather and cigarette smoke permeating John's nostrils. It was his favourite smell in the word, something that never failed to set his heart racing or the tiny hairs at the nape of his neck standing on end. "I didn't think you were coming." There was mirth in Sherlock's eyes when John tilted his head up to look at him, a perpetual mischief that John wished he had. He didn't mention, of course, that the reason he couldn't sleep to begin with was currently standing in his room, smirking knowingly down at him.

You: Sherlock's arms snaked around John's waist, locking him in the embrace so he could neither run away nor advance too fast. The smell of tea and reading material wafted up from John's body, which make Sherlock smirk. He had such a home feel to him, the golden boy did, and yet his home wasn't much like one at all. Nonetheless, Sherlock ducked his head down just a bit more, their lips mere inches away from each other. Their breathing was mingled, hot and heavy, already. It made him crave. He wanted John; all of his golden and perfect demeanor. He wanted John's deep shrouded hunger, to hear him make noises of pure ecstasy, and he wanted to make him feel good. Ducking his head down a bit further, with confidence, he made sure their lips were very close to touching. "May I, Watson?" he breathed, in his deep, sultry voice.

Stranger: The blond swallowed thickly, restraining the urge to simply pull Sherlock down and kiss him for all he was worth in that moment. Instead, his flicked his tongue out to wet his dry lips in an old habit that he couldn't seem to rid himself of, and balled his fists in the lapels of Sherlock's leather jacket. "Please do." he agreed, his heart already leaping in his chest. This was outright flouting of the rules, and yet Sherlock's mere presence made John want to do things he'd never dared to even imagine before. The thoughts painted a scarlet blush over John's cheeks as he leaned closer.

You: Sherlock raised a teasing eyebrow, before making any move. "Eager, are we?" he whispered, letting out a devilish chuckle. He smirked once more, "Good." And with that word, he ducked his head down to capture the small lips the other sported. They were wet with the boys saliva, and now Sherlock's as well. The brunet kissed John, slow and soft at first. He let him catch up, let their lips mingle and merge. And then, Sherlock dared to lick at John's bottom lip, asking for entrance. As he did, he gently pushed John backwards, so they both tumbled down onto his bed. They had always had the agreement, that if John wasn't comfortable, all he had to do was ask to stop. But, since Sherlock had gotten no protest just yet, he kept his advancements. The whole situation was exhilarating, not to mention arousing, and Sherlock found himself yearning to teach the inexperienced boy /everything/ he could about intimacy.

Stranger: The heat of the kiss surprised John. Certainly, they'd already snogged enough times that he ought not to have been shocked, but having Sherlock's body hovering over his own was something else entirely. John muffled a soft sound of appreciation against Sherlock's lips, parting his own and immediately tasting cigarettes and mint on the tip of the other boy's tongue. It caused his stomach to flutter with excitement, and he dared to slip a hand beneath Sherlock's jacket, looping his arm around the narrow torso inside and placing a hand at the small of Sherlock's back. The t-shirt he wore had ridden up just a fraction, enough for John's fingers to braze warm, bare skin. John was leaning up for more before he could stop himself, sliding his tongue over Sherlock's the way the greaser had taught him.

You: John's eagerness and confidence surprised Sherlock, but he did not pity it. Rather, he gladly welcomed it, knowing it made the whole situation more arousing. Sherlock felt shivers sliding down his spine, and his mind was both alight with a million thoughts and also quieted by the pure euphoria of their interactions. In response to the tongue brushing his, he nipped a bit at John's lip, and then dove to kiss his mouth again. He wanted to swallow up every noise and moan John made as they kissed. His fingers slid to the jumper John still wore, and he shucked up the edge just enough so he could duck his fingers under. The skin that met the pads of his digits was soft, with an underlying definition of muscle. It must have been from playing rugby last season, Sherlock noted. Needing rid of some layers, Sherlock took a moment to pull away. He straddled John waist, pulled his leather jacket off, and tossed it to the floor in mere seconds. Then, he was diving for John's neck this time, peppering kisses along the skin, and subtle nips where the marks wouldn't be seen. "Johnny, you taste good. Just as good as my fags," the brunet muttered, smirking against the tanned skin.

Stranger: John made a soft, irritable sound when Sherlock pulled away, but it died in his throat when the greaser's fingers gently stroked over his belly. The muscles beneath automatically tensed, a shiver rippling up John's spine as the tips of cold fingertips grazed his skin. He gasped at the sensation of lips on his throat, squirming softly as a small flame of arousal settled low in his stomach. The weight of Sherlock on his body was only added to that, coupled with the gravelly nose in Sherlock's voice, the barely-there scrape of teeth over his neck. John had to bite his tongue to keep himself completely quiet, settling instead for gripping Sherlock's shirt in his fist and tilting his head to one side, exposing his neck completely. "Bloody Hell, Sherlock." he half-squeaked, the tips of his ears flaming red.

You: Sherlock couldn't help but chuckle softly, and his free hand reached for John's, intertwining their fingers. It was a simple, yet sentimental gesture. "Alright?" he asked, concerned. Though, he had already deduced that his actions were more than alright. John was welcoming them with open arms. So, he kept up his ministrations, kissing everywhere on the small amount of neck he could reach. After a few minutes, he grew the need to feel lips, so he ducked up his head and kissed John again. Once, twice, three times, before pulling back just a few inches. "What is it about you, Watson? Ever since I met you, you've been nagging at my mind. You've intrigued me, when no one else has. I can't get enough of you." Sherlock let out a soft guttural growl, and his fingers worked higher up under John's jumper. He could feel the blond's hands wandering on his own cold skin, his warm palette of fingertips blissful, so it was only fair to return the favor.

Stranger: ((aw crap i'm really sorry but i've got to run :c is there any chance you'd want to continue via email? this is just fab))

You: ((Awe, that's a shame! I really wish I could, but I won't be able to, my apologies! This was extremely lovely, and you are a brilliant John, dear. Seriously, your writing is fantastic <33))

You: ((Do you have a tumblr I could follow? And would you mind if I posted this on mine? c:))

Stranger: ((aww you too sweetness c: your sherlock is absolutely fabulous! my url is moriartea, and by all means go ahead and post it ^^,))

You: ((Thank you so much, love. Awesome! I'll make sure to include your url, to give you credit. This has been so great <3))

Stranger: ((aw thank you bunches! this was brilliant, such a bummer i have to go to lunch ;_; byeee))

Stranger has disconnected.

FOLLOW: http://moriartea.tumblr.com/

[guitarriffsandamazingships]

GUYS IF YOU WANNA COME DO SOME GREASERLOCK GET ON OMEGLE >.>

[guitarriffsandamazingships]

SH - Good? JW - V-very good. ~ Greaser!lock RP

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You both like johnlock, and greaserlock.

You: [ Greaser!Sherlock, Nerd!John ] It was late, and the moonlight shone in John’s bedroom. He scribbled down answers to his homework, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He still wore his perfectly straightened jumper, blue jeans, and dark framed glasses. The minute he had returned home, sixteen year old John had stayed in his room to study. He had to make sure he passed all of his classes. As he worked, John suddenly heard a tapping against his window. It startled him and he dropped his pencil to the floor in surprise. John stood warily and looked out his window, only to see a pebble hit the glass surface with perfect accuracy. Of course. John could see the pitcher under the light of the streetlamp, standing by his black motorcycle. It was Sherlock, the Greaser. He was the bad boy with the black leather jacket, the cut offs, and the boots. His hair was slicked back, with one dark curl hanging forwards. He was the teenager who had somehow come to like John; which was odd because everyone knew he was a square. Opening his window slightly, John raised an eyebrow at the boy on the ground, his face flushing a bit. “Sherlock? What are you doing here? You are going to wake my parents!” he hissed softly, timidly.

Stranger: There was the exact reaction that Sherlock knew he would get and he felt his lips quirk up into a smirk before settling into a small fond smile before he could help it. "I have no intention of waking them up. I wasn't hitting your window that hard." He called up loudly enough to be heard but not to the point of drawing unnecessary attention to himself. He tossed the rock up and down in his hand absently, knowing full well that John would do as he suggested but feeling the slightest bit weary of being rejected. Something he wouldn't consider a possibility with anyone else, but John was different. "Come for a ride with me. You know you want to." The seventeen year old knew that John, golden boy that he was, would be studying. But it didn't deter him in the slightest from going to John's on a whim. Though it had stopped him previously even though he'd never under threat of death admit it.

You: John bit his lip, a nervous habit he had, and considered it. He didn't have to go to school tomorrow, and so he would have all weekend to finish his homework and his studying. He could stay home, of course, and keep studying. But, he had a feeling if he did that, he might miss something good. So, he gave a soft nod and ducked back in his room. Just in case his parents came in in the night, he shoved some pillows under his sheets. He pulled on his jacket, and flicked off his light. Hopefully his parents would know he had gone anywhere. John climbed out the window and down the tree, straightening his thick glasses once he was standing on two feet. Then, he padded forwards, biting his lip again. Sherlock always seemed to look so cool, John concluded, and he had to admit that even though they had grown a friendship, Sherlock was a bit intimidating. "Where are we going to go?" John asked, in his usual soft, timid voice.

You: *wouldn't

Stranger: Sherlock hummed in thought and leaned back to rest against his motor cycle, in equal parts because he just plain wanted to and because it made him the slightest bit less tall when standing with John. He liked being taken as somewhat of a threat, true, but not by him and this usually helped. After lightly tossing the rock off to the side he shrugged his shoulders. "I didn't have anything in particular in mind." He admitted and went to grab his cigarettes before thinking better of it and smoothing his hair back instead, a curl falling to his forehead as usual which he'd always hated. "So, John, where are we going to go?" He asked with another smirk. It always was more fun to have John's input, to make him more actively participate in the so called 'not good' things that they did. He didn't want to change him, that wasn't even a thought. But he did want to introduce him to doing things like this.

You: John couldn't help but smile at that /one/ curl. It just never stayed back, and John had to admit that he never hoped it would. It suited him, to be hanging forwards. John started to chew on his lip a bit, unsure of where they could go. Sherlock had taken him to an old abandoned car lot a few weeks ago, but John didn't exactly want to go back. He knew the greasers would be hanging out there, and they weren't fond of John. "We could always go down to the beach." John suggested. It was kind of lame, at least it would seem so to anyone but him, but he liked the idea of taking a walk in the sand with the other teenager. And besides, John didn't get to go to the beach often. He wasn't allowed out of the house after seven thirty, and his parents didn't have a lot of time to bring his sister and him out to places like that. "Or, um, we could go to the abandoned house a couple blocks from here." he added. Though he feared it would be a bit too frightening for him.

Stranger: Sherlock considered taking John to the abandoned house and he wouldn't be but so ashamed to admit it. It would scare John. It would cause them to be in closer contact because of that and the other teen would worry at his lip, a habit which Sherlock found endearing and slightly distracting if he was completely honest. "The beach it is then." He said with an almost indulgent nod of consent. John being scared had it's nice points in a way, but him being happy was by far better. He stood up straight and got onto his bike in a well practiced motion and slid forward slightly. "Come on." His arm motioned behind himself and smirked. "And hold on tight this time. From the get go, I mean. I can't have you falling off, now can I?"

You: John nodded, a soft blush hitting his face. Sherlock always seemed to make him flush at the most unwanted times. It was embarrassing. He hoisted himself up on the back of the motorbike, and gripped tight to Sherlock's waist. He knew Sherlock had a liking for speed. Hoping the revving of the engine wouldn't wake his parents, John gripped his waist a bit tighter and chewed on his lip again. He was a bit relieved they hadn't gone to the abandoned house. He didn't want to be scared tonight, even if Sherlock would be there to protect him. Despite always being so neat, and nice, John didn't like being flustered or embarrassed in front of Sherlock. With a boy so cool, John knew he, himself was just so /lame/. But, at the beach they could enjoy the nice silence. And maybe they could talk while they walked. The moon was shining bright tonight, just the way John liked to see it.

Stranger: Sherlock placed his hands over John's forearms and lightly tested his grip just to be safe before placing his hands on the bars. He looked around quickly to insure that no one would see him whisking John away before starting the engine and eased into a speed at which he knew for a fact he could control the bike despite how fast he was going. He liked this. Riding in general, but riding his bike with John was even better. The arms wrapped around him were comforting and pleasing in equal measures. It was simple and perhaps more poetic than he'd like way of knowing that the other was there. The fact that the blonde liked doing this just as much as he did was enjoyable as well. When they got to the beach he slowed down accordingly and parked his bike a good enough distance away from the curb just to insure no sand got into or around his bike and patted John's arms. "Safe and sound as always. Now come on." He encouraged a little more gently than he normally would.

You: John unwound his arms from Sherlock's waist, and slipped off the back of the bike. He stumbled a bit, which ensured his cheeks flushed a bit. It was only because he was so short, that he had fallen a bit. Straightening his jumper and his glasses, he waited for Sherlock to put the kickstand down and slip off. Once he had, John started to walk besides him as they made their way to the sand. The water seemed rather calm tonight, and there were stars out in the sky. John thought it was very beautiful. Moving his eyes from the sky, he looked over and up at Sherlock. John still didn't know why Sherlock had been so interested in becoming his friend, but, he liked the greaser more than he thought he would. John just hoped he made no intention of making a move. To be quite honest, John had never kissed anyone before, let alone hold someone's hand. It would be a mess if Sherlock ever tried to make a move with him. Even though John had a few girls who eyed him in the hall, he had never been in a relationship before. Realizing he was staring a bit too long, John looked away from the other boy and bit his lip again. "It's a beautiful night." he whispered, with a content sigh.

Stranger: Sherlock glanced down to John, having resisted the urge to do so when he'd felt the other's gaze on him. He then looked to the water and up at the sky before letting out a content sigh as he placed his hands into his jackets pockets. "It is." He agreed in a soft voice because it felt wrong somehow to speak any louder. He continued to look at the stars, quietly naming the constellations under his breath. He hadn't been to the beach in ages and this was already his favourate time spent here. When he looked back to John discreetly from the corner of his eyes. John was good looking, not in the way Sherlock was told he was of course. But he had the 'good boy nerd' look. It suited him in a way Sherlock didn't think it did anyone else. But this was a train of thought he should try to refrain from. "My brother is visiting." And that was enough to keep him from doing or saying something stupid like kissing John. If nothing else his impulse control was improving.

You: John looked over at Sherlock. "I thought the Uni term was still going?" he questioned. He knew about Sherlock's brother, and their relationship. Now that he thought about it, he knew Sherlock better than most people. "Has he spoken to you yet? You know...I know that he isn't the most accepting brother, but I think he still loves you in his own way." John said, with the tiniest shrug. Just because Mycroft scolded Sherlock and lectured him a lot, didn't mean that he wasn't worried about the younger. At least, that's how John saw it. He liked to look past the bad and see the good in everyone. Chewing his lower lip again, John looked back down at his feet. He had felt the eyes on him before; Sherlock's piercing iridescent gaze was always noticed by John. It made him slightly terrified, for the fear that maybe he was correct in thinking Sherlock was going to make a move. Still hoping he wouldn't, John also slightly wished he would. He liked Sherlock, but was just too nervous and scared to admit it, even to himself most of the time.

Stranger: Sherlock huffed a breath and rolled his eyes before shaking his head. "The term is still going." He confirmed with no small amount of distaste as he lightly kicked a small rock in his path. "He managed to talk his way into getting some leave time. Which just means that he manipulated his way into it without it being noticed." If Sherlock didn't know his brother and dislike him for using this tactic so much, he might be impressed. And he wasn't all that pleased that John tried to speak highly of Mycroft even in passing and when it should supposedly comfort him. But John was good. Truly good. Maybe that was why he felt drawn to him; the fact that it wasn't an act. But that seemed to mean he tried to see the good in everyone. "He said I should 'behave', 'think of others', 'quit being childish', and 'settle down with a nice girl like mummy wants'." He had been getting better with some of those things at John's gentle urging. But the latter was out of the question. "He's a fat idiot." He grumbled under his breath as he brought an arm up to rest lightly over the other teen's shoulders. He wanted, no, needed the simple contact and he didn't try to fight the urge to do so.

You: John flushed red, but he made no move to shrug off the arm. Still, it had his heart beating quicker and his cheeks rather red. John hoped the darkness of the night hid that. It was embarrassing. He couldn't help frown a bit at Sherlock as he explained what his brother said. "You should be yourself." John said, swallowing the thick lump in his throat. He couldn't imagine Sherlock growing up like Mycroft, or even him for that matter. John was neat and tidy and studied hard because he liked to, as well as he didn't want to disappoint his parents. So, he was a bit of a hypocrite. But, the thought of Sherlock being forced to be someone he wasn't didn't sit well with John, for some reason. The greaser/bad boy thing suited him. Looking up at the other boy, still blushing a bit, he chewed on the inside of his mouth softly. Did this arm over his shoulders mean something? Did it lead to something John didn't know how to do? Or was it just something friends did? He would ask Sherlock, but he knew that asking would be too terrifying and embarrassing all at the same time.

Stranger: Smiling softly at the honesty he could hear in John's words, Sherlock looked over to John and wasn't sure if he wanted to chuckle at the flush he could see on John's face with the light the moon provided or to smirk. He settled for smiling the slightest bit wider. "My thoughts exactly." After making sure that he had the image of the other's flustered, embarrassed, but not unhappy expression memorized he looked back up to the sky to look at the stars, his hand going to gently rest at John's waist. To him it was a perfectly innocent if not a bit flirty touch. It was obviously more to the other boy who he knew hadn't ever actually been in physical contact in any way like this. He did hope it was at least obvious about what his intention behind it was. "Not something I've heard from anyone else though. But that could be said for a lot of the things you say and do."

You: Oh, no. John flushed even deeper. Sherlock's hand was placed upon his waist, and it made John's heart keep racing. It felt like there was an endless flush lasting on his face. Was it Sherlock's sole intention to make him blush? He could even feel his ears get a bit heated, as well. John started chewing on his lip a bit rougher, unsure if he was supposed to do anything with his arms. Maybe he was just supposed to lean in to the touch? It didn't seem like a half bad idea, considering despite the fact that it got him all flustered, he did enjoy it. He could remember his parents doing this embrace once, when he was a little child. His father had wrapped his arm around his mother's waist and let his hand rest there. It seemed innocent between them, but right now John found it to be rather bold. Not in a bad sense, though. Slightly, John leaned into the embrace and looked up at the stars. He marveled their beauty and tried to distract himself from being embarrassed. "I don't always have good advice, I mean, I don't get out much." John admitted, with a soft sigh. "But I still think it isn't right for your brother to try and force you to be someone you aren't."

Stranger: Sherlock hummed in agreement, only slightly surprised that his touch was being accepted, albeit hesitantly. It was inevitable that it would be of course and he would have continued to touch John innocently until he got this reaction. But this was beyond preferred. His thumb rubbed a small and, though he was reluctant to admit it, affectionate circle where it rested before stilling once more. "You give better advise than most, you know. Better than anyone who's ever tried to with me before." Which was a large number that he didn't like to think on. "And you've been getting out more with me anyway. But you're alone on feeling that me being who I am is good." He shrugged his shoulders, far too used to that being pointed out to actually feel bothered by it from the general populace. "Because I'm not good. Not really." A fact. Plain and simple as far as he saw it. Because he was considering kissing John despite the fact that it would further embarrass the blonde. The thought circled almost lazily in his mind. Not prominent but there all the same.

You: John's eyebrows furrowed and he stopped walking suddenly. "Wait." he said, hoping Sherlock would stop as well. He hated to stop their nice walk, but, he had to at least say something to make Sherlock change his mind. For someone so cool, and risk taking, he sure did know how to beat himself up. "You're wrong." John said, his voice growing soft. This might be a bit embarrassing, considering it would probably expose how much he cared for the greaser, but he had to say it anyways. "Just because you don't follow in your brothers footsteps doesn't make you bad. I mean, you can look at someone and know their whole life story. It's pretty amazing. And, you hardly come to school, yet you pass every single test. You're smart." John whispered, looking up from the ground to meet Sherlock's eyes. Sherlock may not listen to him, because he was some simple little, scrawny square, but John was speaking the truth. "And, you're nice, too. No one has ever really bothered to spend time with me before, and yet here you are." John gave a bit of a shrug and straightened his glasses with a hand.

Stranger: Sherlock had obediently stopped when John did and now looked at him with slightly wide eyes, his mouth open a little in shock as well. A pleased and though he wouldn't ever say it aloud, flustered blush rose onto his face. It wasn't anything dramatic and it was unlikely that it could be noticed unlike John's, but it was definitely there and he hated that it was. No one had really complimented him before. Described him, yes. Had called him a 'bad boy' 'greaser' and other things of the like as a compliment. But not like this and they'd never truly meant it. He was considered 'cool' and 'sexy' by some vague consensus, but John saw him as more. He let himself be seen as more. And for once in his life he didn't know what to say. So instead, he took a half step closer to the blonde and leant down to gently press his lips against the other's in a soft almost barely there kiss. Trying to communicate more than he could otherwise.

You: John was completely flushed. He could feel the heat on the back of his neck, on his cheeks, nose, and even his ears. What had Sherlock just done? Sherlock had just../kissed/ him. John didn't know how to kiss back. He didn't mean to be rude, but he looked down at his feet because he was so embarrassed. "I..I d-don't know how to, um, k-kiss someone." John admitted, his voice wavering. Sherlock must really think of him as pathetic now. John knew sixteen year old boys that had already lost their virginity, and then here was John who had never kissed anyone before. He had liked the feel of Sherlock's plump, soft lips upon his own, but he knew he didn't really deserve a kiss if he couldn't give it back. He figured Sherlock had meant it as a thank you towards his words, and it was sweet of him. But John was so sheltered that he had just ruined the moment. "I'm sorry." he whispered, starting to chew on his lip yet again as he looked at their shoes.

Stranger: "Hey." Sherlock chided in a matching whisper as he brought his hand up to lightly hold onto John's chin. It was both to encourage him to stop biting his lip in fear that the blonde was in danger of biting too hard and to encourage him to look up again. He licked his lips nervously because while he was definitely more experienced at kissing and a good deal more, /this/ he wasn't. Being caring and considerate which was what he wanted to be now and for the other teen in front of him to the best of his ability. "You don't have to know how to kiss, plenty of people don't. No one knows right away." His voice was oddly hesitant because while the reaction hadn't been a rejection it had felt far too much like it for his comfort. "But I could show you, teach you. Just... do what I do."

You: John tried not to bite his lip, but he couldn't help it. He was so nervous, his hands were shaking. But..but..he wanted this. He gave a soft nod, sure of his choice. "Okay. I'd...I'd l-like that." he whispered. He was still very embarrassed, but, the thought of Sherlock being the one to teach him how was rather good. He didn't want anyone else to teach him. Sherlock just seemed to have so much patience, and John felt very thankful that the greaser was willing to let him learn. Most people would have run for the hills by now because of his reactions. John knew that if his parents found out he had kissed someone, they would be very mad. But, right now, for some reason he didn't care. And they would be mad that he had kissed another boy, but, John didn't want to worry about that either. He could keep it a secret, he was sure, from his mum and dad. Sherlock made him happy, and was his friend; that's what mattered.

Stranger: Sherlock leant back down as he had been before, but this time when he moved forward he paused for a moment and looked into John's eyes for further permission. The flush was still on the other's face as it seemed determined to stay, there was some insecurity still there, but his eyes were lit in a way that communicated his decision as being a definite one. "I'm glad." He said almost silently before kissing John's lips again. It was the same light touch as before and somehow the fact that it was gentle made his heart race inside of his chest. This was new to him. Caring like this. But it was... nice, very nice. His hand trailed from John's chin to go to cup his jaw instead so he could have a way of encouraging him to kiss back.

You: John's eyes slipped closed as he tried to focus on the feeling. His eyebrows furrowed a bit as he concentrated. He didn't exactly want to mess it up. He wasn't sure if his lips were supposed to move, so all he did was make sure his lips had the same sort of pressure on Sherlock's as he felt. It was nice, and John felt a sudden fluttering in his chest. It was like butterflies, and he had never felt anything like it before. It wasn't even near close to something like stage fright or the nerves he felt when he rode Sherlock's motorcycle. It felt....really good. John reached up a shaky hand, unsure of where to place it at first, but then he decided to just rest it on the boy's strong arm. After a few moments, John pulled back a few inches, and his lips curled into the smallest smile. "That..that was good." he concluded. "Am I supposed to move my lips?" he asked, quietly, a bit embarrassed. The question was probably really lame.

Stranger: Sherlock chuckled softly and let his hand trail along John's jaw and back to rest at his waist, unwilling to completely brake contact yet. "It depends." And he loved that John - naïve, sweet, and unassuming John - did ask such a thing. He liked that he was John's first kiss and would continue, as he was allowed, to continue to when he wanted to. "It depends on the kiss really. And if you want to." He shrugged in an attempt at returning to being cool and composed as he was known to be, but the small smile and pleased flush on his face gave him away. His expression was far more open than it usually was. He felt comfortable enough around John to give away that slight vulnerability. To drop the 'cool greaser' mask for a bit and show his emotions to the extent that he could.

You: John would have bit his lip, but instead he gave a soft nod and considered Sherlock's words. He really couldn't believe that he had just had his first kiss. And it had been with /Sherlock Holmes/. He would definitely never forget this night out. He would hate to get in trouble if his parents found out he had gone off, but even then it would have been worth it. "I want you to teach me...every way.... to kiss you." John admitted, his face deepening. He didn't know if Sherlock would mind if he kissed him again, so John pushed up on his tip toes to reach his lips better, and leaned in a bit more. He hoped that the other boy would take the hint. The feeling of kissing Sherlock was sweet, and kind, and one of those things that John wouldn't mind doing over and over again, even if it got him grounded or in trouble. Sherlock seemed to be so relaxed at the moment, and John felt really lucky to be allowed to see this side of him, as well.

Stranger: Sherlock briefly considered telling John that saying something like that was enough to make this permanent as far as he was concerned, that now he wouldn't give this up without fighting for it. But really, John was smart, he could figure that out himself. He leaned down again at the silent request and chastely kissed John before pulling back just slightly. "And I'd be more than happy to do that." He breathed against the other's lips before kissing him again and tilting his head to slot their lips together more fully. Slowly moving his lips against John's, he reveled in the feel of his own lips moving against John's inexperienced ones. It appeared that this was yet another thing that was endearing - sweet, though he was reluctant to say the word even in his thoughts - coming from John and would be off putting from someone else. Anyone else.

You: John closed his eyes again, cheeks burning still, and he focused on the feeling. Oh, it was good, really good. He didn't understand why he wasn't allowed to do something..so..great. Maybe because he was supposed to stay innocent. But, John didn't want to be innocent all the way. He wanted to do well in school, and never drink, but he also wanted to be able to kiss Sherlock without worrying about it. Slowly, timidly, John started to respond; moving his lips against Sherlock's. It felt very good, and John felt that intense tingling feeling again. John tried to remember what he had seen in movies, and what his parents did. It didn't give him a lot of ideas, but he did decide to reach up a soft hand and place it on Sherlock's cheek. His skin was warm, but still slightly cold compared to his own. The kiss felt sweet, and John had to admit Sherlock was becoming more and more deeply woven into his life. The greaser was far from what he had expected at first - but John came to really like every part of his personality.

Stranger: Sherlock hummed softly at the feel of John's lips gaining, what he could only call, shy confidence in their kiss. He purposefully kept it slow and unhurried, content in the knowledge that he would get to do this again. Every other kiss he'd had before didn't matter now, the very thought that he'd done even this with someone else was strange. Those had been rushed affairs where he honestly and unabashedly hadn't cared for the other person. Which was fine since they didn't care for him either. /This/ he wanted to take his time with. John was different, wonderfully so. After a while he lightly licked at the blonde's bottom lip in a silent request.

You: John gasped softly, as he didn't expect the other boy to lick his lip like that. But, he figured it was part of the kiss. That's why Sherlock had done it - which was the most likely explanation. John's lips parted from the gasp, and he was unsure how this helped with kissing. Until he felt something slowly slip inside his mouth. It was odd, and startled him a bit, at first. But then he realized it was only Sherlock's tongue, and the other boy wasn't trying to hurt him by doing so. He let him do what he was doing, unsure of why. But he couldn't complain that it felt bad, because every time their tongues brushed, a tingle went down John's spine. He had never felt this good before, and he knew now that he always wanted to be able to feel good like this with Sherlock. Even if they had to do it in secret. At school, Sherlock's friends wouldn't like it; if they found out about the two of them. John would get hurt more often, and Sherlock's friends would turn on him. The whole school thought the greaser/square combination was disgusting, especially with them being two boys. That terrified John, but he wouldn't give up Sherlock, ever.

Stranger: Sherlock would have smiled at the thoughts that he could practically hear going through John's mind and set about kissing him the slightest bit more thoroughly. He didn't have any intention at this point in time of going beyond kissing like this. Both because he knew for a fact that any such further advance would be politely rebuked in a flustered way and because he was perfectly happy with this. Such things could come later. He did bring his previously unoccupied hand up to rest on John's other side and took another half step towards him. They weren't touching but he could feel the warmth that the other exuded. When the need to breath properly became necessary again and he felt John's matching soft and slightly labored breaths he pulled back to rest his forehead against his. "Good?" He knew the answer, of course he did. The answer was just one he needed to hear vocalized to ease the worries he had about being with someone like John. He wouldn't leave no matter what. If somehow what they had became known he would take the insults, fights, and whatever else. John couldn't, not really, and would leave him. It was a thought that he needed to be calmed if nothing else.

You: John was breathing rather heavy, and his eyes fluttered open. "V-Very good." he said, and then he couldn't help but smile. Oh, Sherlock really made him happy. He hoped that the other boy would never leave his side. He feared that once Sherlock's friends turned on him, or the kids started to make insults, that Sherlock wouldn't want to ever kiss him again, or ever hang out with him. But, for now, he was going to enjoy the time with Sherlock. And maybe, just maybe, John would be wrong and Sherlock would stay. He'd like that. John's hand still rested on his cheek, and he looked into the others lovely orbs. They were stunning, especially up close. John wished that he could spend all night doing this - standing in the sand and kissing Sherlock.

Stranger: Sherlock felt himself flush ever so slightly once again at the feel of being looked at like this. He was quick to suppress that particular reaction this time and lifted a hand up to lightly brush his thumb along the bottom of John's slightly kiss wet lower lip and watched the action as he licked at his own lips in an unconscious reaction. He had been the one to do that. A fact which he needed to remind himself from the barely there disbelief at it. Making eyes contact again he smirked and traced a fingertip along the arm of John's glasses. "I couldn't agree more." His fingers continued to card through John's short soft hair just because he could and it had the fantastic side benefit of mussing him up just that little bit more. "I like this." He admitted almost casually. "You." He elaborated simply with a small barely there smile.

You: John's heart swelled. "I didn't think anyone could like me." John admitted, "but, I like this, too. I've never felt anything like it before." He knew he was probably sounding completely boring, but he just felt the need to tell the other boy. "I wish I didn't have to go back home." he said, finally, telling the complete truth. Every night, John finished up his homework late, and then went straight to bed. He woke up at five in the morning, every day, and then did what he needed to, before he did what he wanted. He was neat, innocent, and yet here he was now. John Watson wanted to stay out all night with another boy and kiss him the whole time. He was terrified to think about his parents not finding him home when they came to check on him, but the thought of leaving Sherlock made him rather sad. John took a deep breath, trying to work up the nerves to ask the question boiling in his gut. His conscious said it was a stupid, risky idea, but he knew he wanted it. "Will you come to my place tonight?" John asked suddenly, flushing a bit. "I mean, you'll have to hide under my bed when my parents come in, but when they aren't around, we'll be fine to spend time together." he suggested, getting more and more confident.

You: ((Brb, sorry, dear! I've just got to go eat my dinner! I promise I will be right back!))

Stranger: Sherlock smiled widely and more than a bit mischievously at John's suggestion. He wouldn't have predicted that such a thing would be brought up and by John Watson of all people. Oh, but he was more than happy to accept. "John. I would have climbed up that tree to your room to get you instead if I hadn't thought you'd be too surprised and follow me out anyway. Of course I'll come to stay with you for the night." It wasn't like he was going to go back home after all. Being in John's room was the best place he could think of being. He'd have to hide, yes, but when had a little danger ever not been fun? Never. "I'll just have to make sure to not leave my jacket." He teased with a wink before linking their hands and leading them back to his bike. ((Okay! That's more than alright and thank you for telling me.))

You: ((Okay, dear! I'm back now c: No problem, I didn't want to leave this wonderful RP <3))

Stranger: ((Aww. Thank you and I couldn't agree more.))

You: John bit his lip, but he was also smiling at the same time. He followed, enjoying the feeling of their hands linked together. He had seen couples do this many times, and John felt very happy that he was able to do this with someone so wonderful. He hopped onto the bike just after Sherlock and gripped tight to his waist again, propping his head on the other teens shoulder to watch the road as they drove. He gave a smile at the thought. Maybe this was how they could ride to school on Monday. "Just be careful with the engine. I really..um..don't want a reason for my parents to unexpectedly check on us in the middle of the night." John whispered, gripping a bit tighter to Sherlock's waist. He waited for the feel of the engine, and took a moment to breath in Sherlock's scent. He had to admit, the greaser smelled rather good. He smelled of his grease, leather, science equipment, and a musk that John liked.

Stranger: Sherlock ran his hands over John's arms in an affectionate gesture and, as always, to make sure the hold on him was secure. He couldn't help but to chuckle and flexed his hands on the handle bars. "I can be careful when I need to." He informed with a fond roll of his eyes. "And I'll even park my bike a bit around the corner from your house." He'd already planned on it, had since before John even brought up the invitation for him to stay, but it seemed only fair to let it be known. He revved the engine once just to hear the sound before he sped off and back to John's house. He slowed once he knew he was in hearing distance from there and pulled up where he said he would. He put up the kick stand and waited for John to get up. "See? I doubt they heard me." He teased, his voice jokingly conspiratorial for added effect.

You: John smiled and slipped off. The more time he spent with Sherlock, the more comfortable he felt with him. John felt like he didn't have to be neat and tidy anymore. He felt like it was alright to be a bit rebellious. John reached out a small hand and picked up Sherlock's, like the other had done earlier. He walked with him, completely content, until they got to his house. He pulled himself up and slipped into his room, and then opened his window wide so Sherlock could slip in more easily. He looked down at him for a moment first, biting his lip and smiling. "I'm feeling a bit of deja vu." he admitted, with the softest giggle. John didn't laugh often, but when he did, his laughter was very light and golden. He backed up and flicked on his light, waiting for Sherlock to slip up.

Stranger: Sherlock smiled up at John and had to duck his head to hide it, feeling that perhaps his grin was verging on stupidly happy. "Definitely. If I had a few rocks in my hand the effect would be complete." He quipped with a chuckle, because when John giggled he couldn't help but to join in. He reached up and climbed easily up the braches of the tree. He rested at the branch nearest to the window and looked around once more before slipping in with a little difficulty because of his height. He straightened himself up and adjusted his jacket as he looked around John's room, eager to take in the details. From the open books on the table and stacked neatly on the shelves. The neatness of everything and how it showed the bits of John's personality that he was allowed to show where his strict parents would see.

You: John flushed a bit as Sherlock looked over his room. He had a solar system poster posted on the ceiling above his bed, but his room was mostly filled with books. John really liked to read. "Um, yeah. This is my room." he whispered, shrugging a bit. John looked over at the time and realized it was already around two in the morning. They definitely needed some sleep. John straightened his glasses and bit his lip. "Would you like to borrow some pajamas?" he asked, quietly. "They might be short, but I don't think you would want to sleep in those clothes tonight." John padded over to his drawer and opened it. He wanted to change as well, and his cheeks became bright red at the thought of Sherlock watching him undress. He would have to ask him to turn away, he decided.

Stranger: Sherlock looked down at himself curiously to look at his own clothes at the mention of them and raised an amused brow when he looked back to John. "I'm more than comfortable in my clothes." He said with a shrug as he leant against the wall beside the window after closing it. "Thank you." He added after a moment with a slight frown before shaking his head in dismissal. "I like sleeping in a bit less than that though, but you know..." The thought made him huff a breath of laughter, knowing that wearing his shirt and boxers ran the risk of flustering John further. "I'm more than comfortable. Honestly." Taking off his leather jacket he hid it skillfully behind the curtain just in case he did have to make a hurried get-away.

You: John got what he meant and he flushed a bit deeper. So, John turned his head to look at his pajamas, and pulled a pair out. "Um, right, okay. Well, you can wear what you're comfortable in." he assured, and looked over at Sherlock. "Um, do you mind turning, just so I can get changed?" he asked softly, embarrassed. He wasn't exactly keen on being watched. No one had ever really seen him shirtless and only in a pair of boxers before. Besides, despite really liking Sherlock, he had to make sure they took things nice and easy. One step at a time, so John could get used to being with someone, since he'd never done it before.

Stranger: Sherlock smirked but didn't hesitate in nodding his head. "I don't mind at all. All you had to do was ask." Which was true. There wasn't much he could think of not doing if John asked it of him. He turned around to face the other way, keeping his thoughts focused on other things to keep his mind busy so as to resist the urge to do the opposite of what he was told. He looked over to where he knew his jacket was, the sound of rustling clothes the background noise to his thoughts. He wondered at if he could get away with smoking. He could tell that someone in John's family did. The air freshener that overpowered it slightly showed that his mother knew about it as well. Someone else would be likely to get the blame. "Would you mind if I smoked?" He asked as he looked up and to the side without turning, as if to make the eye contact he knew he couldn't yet.

You: John pulled on a grey t-shirt, so unlike his normal neat jumpers, and some blue, striped pajama bottoms. He glanced over at Sherlock when he asked, and bit his lip. His Dad smoked, which was a habit everyone in the house hated. John figured that it would be easy to cover up with another air freshener, and the window was open so it would bring a breeze in. "Yeah, that's fine. Just try not to get ashes on the floor." John whispered. "You can turn now." he added, and then padded over to his bed. He slipped under the covers, but kept sitting up as he looked over at Sherlock. "After you finish up, you should come get some sleep. It's really late." John said, pointing to the digital clock on his desk. He bit down n his lip as he watched Sherlock. He hated smoking, it was a filthy habit, but somehow Sherlock made it look cool. Still, John knew how terrible it was for your body. But, he wasn't going to bother Sherlock about it, because it was his choice to smoke.

Stranger: "Brilliant." Sherlock said under his breath and went to reach for his jacket again to pull out his pack of cigarettes and his lighter. "II vow, on my life, not to make a mess of it." He joked after he turned around so as to smooth over the fact that he knew John wasn't exactly fond of smoking in general. He knew it of course, but quitting was difficult and it helped him in a way he knew wouldn't be completely understood. He took out a single cigarette and placed it between his lips and lit it, taking in the sight of John in clothes that were a far cry from the ones he'd always seen him in. The many layers were gone and replaced with relaxed and comfortable pajamas that Sherlock found suiting. "I've stayed up longer before." He let out the smoke with his words and turned to the window, his hand resting on the sill. "And I don't get to sleep very easily. But I'll try." He took another drag from the cigarette and hummed pleasantly at the calming repetitive motion.

You: John watched him, sadly. He felt bad for Sherlock, in a way. He seemed more lonely that John would have guessed. As he watched him smoke, John couldn't help but imagine kissing him again. His cheeks flushed a bit, but he kept watching and waiting for him to finish. "Just at least try. It's good for you to get some sleep once and a while." Sliding under the covers fully, John laid down on his side, still watching Sherlock. He didn't mean to stare, but it was nice to watch the other boy he really cared about. "Do you have any nightmares?" John asked, quietly. He had them sometimes as well, and he would wake up in a sweat. Hopefully, though, tonight that wouldn't happen. He had offered for Sherlock to sleep in his bed with him, which would definitely make him rather flushed, but that didn't mean he wouldn't enjoy it. His parents used to cuddle when they slept. Maybe Sherlock could teach John how to do that. He would like falling asleep that way. And luckily his alarm was set so he could have Sherlock hide before his parents came in.

Stranger: Sherlock watched the end of his cigarette burn and tapped the ashes out of the window. "Sometimes, yeah. But I can never remember them." He frowned and took a final inhale from his cigarette so as to calm him once more. The not knowing was worse. He had a natural need to know everything around him. So to wake up and not know why he was afraid was... alarming. Holding in the smoke he stubbed out the flame and tossed it outside of the window before going to the bed and sitting down. "Mostly it's my thoughts." Taking off his boats he placed them off to the side. "They can't slow down enough for me to sleep. It's, well, loud. For lack of a better word." He moved to lay down on the bed to face John, his arm placed over John's waist, higher than before so as to not appear to come on too strong.

You: John reached up a hand, and carefully brushed that one curl back. It of course fell over his forehead again, which made John smile a bit. he kept his hand on Sherlock's cheek. He couldn't believe that he had another boy in his bed. It was so nerve wracking, but yet it was really comfortable because that boy was Sherlock. "I wish I could make it better." John stated, softly. "But my medical knowledge tells me that's it's not possible." he let out a soft sigh and shifted a bit closer. "Thank you, Sherlock." he whispered, "For being my friend, and teaching me about all of this. My life has never been so wonderful." he explained. Timidly, John ducked his head forwards and pressed a soft kiss to Sherlock's lips. "Your parents won't mind you gone, right?" John questioned, a bit worried. "I mean, I just don't, you know, want them calling missing persons or something. I don't want to be grounded, let alone be arrested." John teased, a bit. He wasn't one for joking much, but with Sherlock it would probably be okay. He let another soft giggle, as well, and flushed softly.

Stranger: Sherlock quietly laughed along kissed John softly on his still smiling lips. "They're used of me not being home. There's no risk of you being sent off to prison." He teased before shrugging a shoulder. Being home had very little appeal to him. His parents were old fashioned and while his mother indulged him and let him do as he pleased to some extent, it was with the thought that he'd 'get it out of his system'. That him being him was going to magically stop. He'd change a bit as people are want to do, but not to the extent it was predicted for him. His father was just plain strict in every word. Mycroft was his ideal son and that didn't bother Sherlock but so much. He rid himself of those thoughts and focused on just being around him. The smell of tea, books, and the lingering smell of the sea water. It was comforting. "You do help me though. Being around you makes things... better. Calms me in a way."

You: John bit his lip and nodded a bit, giving Sherlock a soft smile. "I'm happy that I can help you." he whispered, and slid his hand back. Carefully, John slid his arms around Sherlock's middle and pulled him close. He didn't exactly know why he was doing it, but the good thing was he knew how to hug. He held on for a little bit, resting his face in Sherlock's chest. He realized that he still had his glasses on, so he pulled back a bit so he could slip them off and set them to his bedside table. "There." he mumbled. He could still see, just not very good far away. Good thing was, Sherlock was close. "You don't mind if I hug you, right, Sherlock?" he asked, eyes soft as he looked at him, asking for his consent.

Stranger: Sherlock raised his brows and smiled in amusement. "I don't mind at all. I'd really like that actually." He dutifully avoided pointing out that that should be obvious even if the words were plainly stated in his expression. There was no reason he could possibly see for minding if John hugged him. Except if the other's parents could see and even then it was for the blonde's sake instead of his own. He lifted his arm up in invitation and gently waved his hand towards himself. Looking into the eyes that were for once in their knowing each other weren't behind the glasses he took in the bark blue color. "I like your glasses." He said as he moved his hand to trace where the arm of them would be. "But I like you without them too."

You: John blushed a bit. "Thank you." he said, after the compliment. "You know, someday you should wear your hair without the grease. Just so I can see what it looks like." he suggested, with soft smile. He slid in closer to Sherlock, and let their foreheads rest together like they had when they kissed at the beach. More and more, John was becoming more and more confident. Of course, no one besides Sherlock would need to know that. When he wasn't with Sherlock, or around his parents and teachers, John would make sure to be just as innocent as he always was. He could save his happiness and rebellious side for Sherlock. Like he had noticed before, Sherlock had woven himself into John's life, skillfully, and expertly. Even if he hadn't noticed. A soft yawn hit John's lip and he blushed. "Sorry, I'm a bit sleepy. It was really nice, tonight, though."

Stranger: Sherlock chuckled and shook his head, his hand going to rest on John's waist again. "It was very nice tonight. I couldn't have thought of a better way to spend my time." He let out a soft sigh, not truly tired but becoming a little sleepy from the warmth of their embrace. "I haven't gone without putting grease in my hair for... a while." A small smile curled his lips upward. "But for you, I will. Just for you though." His arm tightened around John for a brief second before closing his eyes. "Go ahead and sleep, John. You're tired and I'll stay as long as I can." He opened one eye to look at him with a smirk. "I'll even try to sleep."

You: "Good." John said, with a smile. He snuggled into his chest, enjoying it. He couldn't believe that he had considering skipping tonight. If he had, he would have missed out on so much. He was very glad for tonight, and very glad for Sherlock. "My alarm clock is on, so I'll wake up before my mum and dad come in. I'm sorry if I wake you early for a few minutes so you can hide. But we can rest after that, once they're gone." he explained, in a sleepy voice. His eyes fluttered shut, and he enjoyed the warmth. John fell asleep a few minutes later, and woke early in the morning. It looked as if Sherlock was sleeping, and he hated to disrupt him if he was, but John had to. Pressing the softest kiss to his lips, John also placed a hand on his cheek. "Sherlock, you've got to hide for me quickly. I'm sorry I had to wake you." he whispered, sighing sadly.

Stranger has disconnected.