Eight

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John stood at the door of the diner, looking in as he saw the waiter hunched over the counter, writing in a journal. He lifted his hand up and tapped on the door with knuckle softly, watching Sherlock's head snap up then furrow his brows. Sherlock walked out from behind the bar, going to the door and unlocking it.

"What happened to your cheek?" Sherlock asked, gently cupping the boy's cheek. Concern was written all across his face.

"It was my mum." John said quickly. "Can I stay with you for the night?"

Sherlock nodded. "I have to close, but you can go ahead and go up to my flat." He stepped out of the way and let John in, closing the door behind him,locking it. "Just go through the door between the restrooms."

John nodded then walked slowly to the small corridor where the toilets were, going to the door between them and going up the steps. He set his bag down next to Sherlock's bed then sat on the mattress, toeing his shoes off and crossing his legs. There was a bit of guilt in him for just leaving his mother like that. She was probably worried sick and would have people out looking for him by the morning. He just couldn't stay there after they both had snapped, confined in his room by himself with out a way to talk to someone. He had gone to Irene's first, but she wasn't home so he decided on the only other person that talked to him. Sherlock.

There was a soft thud from a shoe and that was when John snapped out of his trance, looking at where the sound came from. Sherlock was standing at his closet, taking his shoes then going for his shirt, unbuttoning it then pulling on a Beatles graphic tee. He then went door his trousers, letting them fall around his ankles before stepping out and grabbing a pair of joggers off the floor, pulling them on. He turned around and John looked straight ahead, looking at the tv.

"Hey," Sherlock said as he sat next to John, "get changed and I'll make some tea, then you can tell me about what happened or we can just lay down. Okay?" He rest a hand on John's knee, rubbing his thumb over the fabric of his jeans.

John looked up at Sherlock, nodding. "Thank you."

"Of course." Sherlock leaned in and gave John a kiss. "I'm always here for you." He patted John's knee, giving him a smile before getting up and going to his kitchen.

John closed his eyes and sighed, calming himself before getting up and grabbing his bag, setting it on the bed and taking out the pair of shorts he had packed, not finding a need to change his jumper for a tee shirt. He went into the kitchen and hugged Sherlock from behind, resting his head on his back as he made the tea.

"Tired?" the baritone voice asked.

"A bit." John let go of Sherlock and sat on the table top.

Sherlock turned and handed John a mug before leaning against the counter with his own, smiling softly at the boy. "Tell me what happened with your mum."

John blew on his tea softly before taking a sip. Sherlock didn't add any sugar, but a bit of honey. Just the way he liked it. He took a small swig before telling Sherlock. "We were eating dinner and I just asked why I had to get married and that brought up the subject of my sister and my mother hates it when I bring her up and when she told me to drop it I kept fighting then she reached across the table and slapped me."

Sherlock frowned and set his mug down, going to the boy and cupping his cheeks. He kissed his bruised cheek then looked down at him. "Then you left?"

John nodded. "I didn't want to, but I just couldn't be by myself. I needed someone. I needed you."

Sherlock smiled softly, resting his forehead against the boy's. "I'm always here for you."

"I just wasn't sure because I don't know what we are."

Sherlock pulled away, kissing John's forehead. "What do you want to be?" he turned and grabbed his mug, taking a swig.

John shrugged. "Something more than just early morning fucks. Something that'll last."

"So a relationship?"

"I suppose." John looked down at his mug. "You don't have to want it to and that's okay. I'd understand. Not everyone wants to be with a spoiled brat who dresses feminine."

Sherlock set his tea down then took John's out of his hands, setting it on the table before kissing the boy deeply, getting a kiss back. He felt the legs of the boy wrap around his waist, pulling him closer as they kissed. Sherlock pulled away, starting down at the boy with bright eyes. "You are not a spoiled brat. You are no where near that, John Watson. And I'd be dammed if I never saw you in these shorts or the way you wear my jumpers with those jeans." his fingers ran over the fabric of his shorts. "I'd be dammed if you never came into the diner that day and if I never got your number at the party. I am so glad I met you. So fucking glad."

A light blush spread across John's cheeks as he smiled up at the waiter. "Do you mean that?"

Sherlock scoffed. "Do I mean it? Are you mad John Watson?" he asked with a grin. "Course I mean it. I always mean it."

The blond cupped the back of Sherlock's neck, pulling him closer. "I love you." he whispered before pulling Sherlock in for a kiss.

There was a few minutes of just snogging and John ended up with his back on the table, being touched everywhere by those warm, pale hands. They rubbed under his thighs, under his jumper against his sides, the light finger tip touches on his neck before they were tangled in his over grown hair. He pulled away from Sherlock, smiling up at him as they kissed softly, letting it linger for a while.

"I love you, too." Sherlock whispered, staring lovingly at the boy as he pushed his over grown fringe out of his face.

They settled in the bed once they finished their tea, sharing light kisses and soft touches as the rest of the world just disappeared around him. John's jumper was removed from his body as Sherlock kissed every patch of skin he could get his mouth on, leaving his marks on the boy, claiming him as his own. There was a minute they took to just stare at each other. Sherlock pushed John's hair out of his face as he smiled lovingly at the boy, getting the same look back.

"This is crazy," Sherlock said softly as he leaned closer to the boy's face, "but I am madly in love with you."

John giggled. "As for I." he cupped the back of the waiter's neck, pulling him closer until their lips connected.

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