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To say I was tired would be an understatement and so would be to say I was fed up with Sherlock. It was 3 a. m. and I had to wake up and tiptoe to Sherlock’s bedroom because we had to be discreet about our new relationship. Why we had to be discreet? I had no idea. Sherlock had the theory that Mrs. Hudson would make our lives hell if she found out she was true from the very beginning. But I didn’t think Mrs. Hudson was able to make anyone’s life hell. She was probably the sweetest woman in the planet.
I knocked Sherlock’s door three times quickly and then two times slowly so he would knew it was me. When I heard the thump in the other side of the door I entered. I huffed and shuffled to the bed. Sherlock had already made place for me and he even smiled slightly when I tiredly threw the covers over my body.
“Sherlock, I’m tired of this. It’s ridiculous.” I grunted.
“Keep your voice down, John and no, it’s not ridiculous. It’s completely necessary.”
“Mrs. Hudson is an angel…”
“I’m sure she is but when she’s right about something that you didn’t believe she makes sure you remember it, Watson.”
Sherlock wrapped his arms around my body and tucked my hair under his chin, our usual position while sleeping unless I was too annoyed and decided to sleep on the other side of the bed, avoiding any contact with him. But we always slept together, no matter what, because with him I had no nightmare about the war and felt safe. Well, as safe as you can feel with a psychopath. But as he would say: I’m not a psychopath, I’m just too smart for you to understand my mind. Well, he was an asshole.
We spent a few more weeks like that. Sherlock made sure Mrs. Hudson was asleep and then he would send me a message to tell me the coast was clear and I could crawl to his bed. It was tiring, very tiring. I had to wait until 2 o 3 a.m. everyday until I could fall asleep without fearing that the phone would ring in a few minutes.
But then, finally, everything, well, nearly everything, came to an end. It was a usual day, no murders, no crimes so Sherlock was bored as hell. And as usual, when he was bored he either decided to moan about how bored he was or bother me. And that day it was the later one.
He started by kissing my neck while I was trying to read a book and then he just climbed on top of me and announced that if I weren’t going to pay any attention to him he would kill someone just for the fun of solving the case after. He was just like a kid sometimes but I had to give him the candy he wanted so we started making out on the couch like teenagers.
We were so caught up in each other that neither of us, not even Sherlock, noticed the footsteps that were climbing the stairs. And then, Lestrade burst into the room saying something about a case but instantly stopped when he saw us. We stayed looking at each other for a few seconds, probably the most uncomfortable moments of my life, and then Greg’s face went red as a tomato and apologized profusely before leaving the room.
Solving that case was particularly uncomfortable for Greg kept sending stared both to Sherlock and smirking. When we left the crime scene he walked by my side with a smug a smile and winked at me.
“I knew it was a matter of time that you two got together.”
So, we weren’t as sneaky as we thought we were. Sherlock didn’t mention the incident never again and neither did I for when I tried to the detective instantly changed the topic.
But Sherlock apparently didn’t mind being busted as I had first thought. The second time someone found out about us it was in the morgue of the hospital. Molly had let us go to study a corpse that ad been murdered rather brutally but Sherlock grew tired of it pretty quickly as he already had the crime solved in his head so he decided that kissing in a morgue would be a good idea.
Of course, I didn’t want it. I found the idea rather unappealing and disturbing but of course the detective didn’t and things had to go the way he wanted. That’s how Molly found us kissing passionately on top of one of the Morgue’s desks for corpses. The red-haired girl stood dumbfounded at the door, gaping at us like a dead fish.
“Molly, it’s not-” I tried to say but Sherlock stopped me.
“No, John, it’s exactly what it seems. Don’t try to cover it.” The taller man stated with his usual cold voice. Molly closed her mouth and nodded slowly before apologizing and leaving the room. I stared at Sherlock with a raised eyebrow but he just raised his and kissed me again.
The third time was even more uncomfortable. It was in Mycroft’s house so obviously we were caught by Mycroft. He had invited us to have tea and discuss a new case and he had left to go and bring the tea when I felt Sherlock’s hand in my knee, travelling up my leg towards my crotch.
“Sherlock.” I hissed warningly. He just kept his poker face but I could see the grin in his eyes. “Holmes, stop it or I will shout and your brother will know that you’re harassing me.”
“I’m not harassing you, John. It’s not harassment if you want it too.”
“I don’t want it.”
“That’s not what you said to me last night.” Sherlock smiled wickedly and grabbed my crotch making me whimper.
“Stop it.” I muttered, trying to pry his hand away. He let me take his hand but then he started kissing my neck and sucking, probably leaving marks. I groaned and casted a look at the door, fearing that Mycroft could come in any minute. “Sherlock, seriously, your brother…”
“Let him see.”
“Sherlock! Are you an exhibitionist or something?”
“It turns you on, too, I feel it.” I couldn’t say that it didn’t turn me on but it also set my nerves on edge and I preferred to keep my sanity thank you. But then, it was too late. Mycroft stood at the door, his eyebrows raised but he didn’t seem that surprised.
“Sherlock, brother, I would prefer it if you and your boyfriend didn’t engage in sexual activities on my couch and certainly not when I’m around.”
I was blushing hard but Sherlock only glared at his brother like it was his fault I didn’t want to and said nothing.
“You… You knew?” I stuttered. Mycroft poured the tea in the cups and passed me one with a kind smile.
“It’s obvious. It was expected.”
I didn’t ask Sherlock why he wanted everyone to see us together but the answer came when he kissed me right in front of the press and announced that he was taken and wanted no more love letters. I was shocked, to say the least, and a bit angry for he had not asked me if I wanted to be out so soon. But he was Sherlock; he did what he wanted and did not give any reasons.
We didn’t have to wait too long, cuddled in our couch while searching for muders on the TV and the newspaper. Mrs. Hudson’s footsteps echoed loudly and the door was opened a few seconds latter by a very happy Mrs. Hudson. She clapped her hands together and hummed happily.
“I knew it!” she exclaimed while approaching us. She stared at us for a second starry-eyed and then she hugged both of us tightly at the same time, pressing us against her chest. “I knew it! I knew it!”
“Mrs. Hudson, please, let us go.” I grunted. Sherlock stayed impassive but I could see his eyes shinning with mischief. When the overjoyed woman finally let us go I tried to compose myself. “And what the bloody hell did you know?”
“I knew you were a couple!”
That took me by surprise but at the same time, it didn’t. I took a glimpse at Sherlock, who was just smiling proudly and Mrs. Hudson, without trying to hide anything. What the hell had happened to that detective that wanted nothing more but to hide our relationship from Mrs. Hudson? I raised my eyebrows and gritted my teeth, while Mrs. Hudson was still rambling about her deductions when we first came to rent the flat.
“Mrs. Hudson, we weren’t a couple, by then.” I clarified.
“Maybe not, but I knew you would be one as soon as I saw you two. You’re made for each other! You, John, help Sherlock be a better person and you, Sherlock, give John an exciting and thrilling life! You complete each other!”
Sherlock and I stared at each other, with raised eyebrows but matching grins. Well, she was true, for after all, she hadn’t been so wrong from the beginning.