The Johnlock Book of One Shots

Snowy Kisses (Teenlock)

Sherlock shivered against the wind, snow battering every inch of his body and freezing any inch of skin that showed on his body. The storm hit just as he was on his way back to Baskerville Boarding School. He couldn't turn back to his brother's mansion now, the school was closer anyways. He wished that he had just asked his brother or one of his drivers to take him back but he'd never hear the end of it. He learned the hard way not to ask for anything from Mycroft.

Still, Sherlock bared on, and he could see the outline of the school at last. Relief shot through him, warmth spread through his body just enough for him to run the best he could into the school. Once the wind was out of his ears and hair and face, the door closed, and warmth made his body go numb; he finally collapsed onto the floor. Not quite unconscious, but he wished he was.

"Sherlock?" came a quiet voice. Sherlock looked up through his icy eyelashes and saw John standing there. His roommate and best friend.

"Hi John." He said shakily, trying to get up. John rushed to his side and helped lift him up.

"Bloody hell, Sherlock! You're practically and icicle!" John exclaimed, walking with Sherlock to their room. It wasn't until the door was closed and Sherlock was sitting on his bed that he noticed how much the snow had melted on him. He shivered violently. John noticed and took off Sherlock's coat and shoes. "Strip." The boy said.

Sherlock gave him an incredulous look. "I'm f-f-fine J-J-John." his teeth chattered.

John rolled his eyes and said "For a genius, you really are an idiot sometimes." And he went to work on taking off Sherlock's clothes. Sherlock shivered at the coolness of the room.

"John, I can do this myself." he remarked, but didn't resist John's touch.

"You can get your own pants off, you're lucky your clothing just finished in the launderette." Sherlock looked down then to see that indeed he was only wearing pants. He gulped and wrapped the blanket tight around him. "Get your pants off too!" John called as he walked out to get their clothes.

Sherlock shivered, taking off his pants, now fully naked under the blankets. It felt like years before John was back with warm clothing. Sherlock nearly jumped for it but remembered that he was naked and waited for John to throw clothing at him. Sherlock sighed in relief once the clothing was on him and already he was warming up.

"I'll make you tea." John smiled and moved to their little makeshift kitchen area, just a little electric kettle on top of the mini-refrigerator.

"Thank you, John." Sherlock said quietly, sniffling with cold.

"You're welcome, Sherlock." he smiled, kneeling in front of Sherlock with a cuppa in his hand. Sherlock took is and sipped away.

~

The next morning John woke up to Sherlock sniffling and coughing. He was sick.

"Sherlock, I'll run to the shops and get you some medicine, alright?"

"NO! Nooo." Sherlock groaned, rolling in his bed and kicking off the sheets. John jumped up and checked his temperature. High fever.

"I'll be right back." John sighed, throwing on some clothes and shoes before moving to the door. Sherlock was already snoring again. He smiled slightly and off he went. It only took a few minutes to get to the shops and back, the storm had calmed tremendously. He ran back into his dormroom but Sherlock was no where to be seen! John's eyebrows furrowed. He moved over to the door leading to the toilet and peeked inside. No Sherlock. He was terribly confused as he put down the bag of medicine and nearly regretted looking under the beds. Because there was Sherlock. Lying under the bed. Hissing at John.

"Sherlock? What are you doing?" John asked carefully.

Sherlock hissed in reply, sneaking out from the other side of the bed. John jumped up.

"You need to take your medicine, Sherlock!" He exclaimed, jumping onto the bed and running after Sherlock around the room.

"No! I don't need it!" Sherlock yelled, running into the loo and locking the door.

"Sherlock, please." John begged, leaning against the door, panting. After about five or ten minutes give or take the door opened slightly.

"Alright." Sherlock trembled. John sighed and wrapped an arm around Sherlock's waist, moving him back over to his bed. Sherlock blinked slowly as John walked back over to him with a small bottle of nasty liquid.

"It tastes nothing like grape. Rather more like death and children's lost hopes and dreams." Sherlock sneered at the small cup as John filled it.

"Oh be quiet and drink up. Like a shot." John said, passing Sherlock the cup. Sherlock didn't take it. He shook his head, sitting on his hand and zipping his mouth closed.

"Don't make me force it down your throat, Sherlock Holmes." John threatened. Sherlock stuck his tongue out at John and the blonde boy took the advantage and pinned Sherlock down onto the bed, cup still in hand. Sherlock growled and knocked it across the room, turning and pinning John down instead.

"Sherlock!" John yelped, trying to move but Sherlock had him pinned awfully well. John looked at Sherlock's feverish eyes, sweat beading on his forehead, and it seemed as if Sherlock made up a decision in his mind and quickly he darted like a snake and planted a kiss on John's lips. He moved his head back just as quickly. John's mouth was opened slightly, eyes widened in shock.

"Your pupils are dilating, John." Sherlock stated. The taller boy leaned his head down to John's ear. "I can feel your pulse. It's getting faster." he breathed.

John shuddered at the sound of Sherlock's voice. It was true that John had liked Sherlock for weeks now, and it was definitely more than just a crush. Same went for Sherlock. But this couldn't end up right. Especially since Sherlock wasn't in his right mind.

A smile played at John's lips as he moved his head up, Sherlock let go of one of John's arms and the two were quickly tangled in each other's limbs, their mouths dancing in synchronization. John pulled back first, having Sherlock pinned once more.

"We can't do this, Sherlock. Not while you're sick." he said, almost sadly.

Sherlock panted. "I don't care."

"I do."

Both of them looked at each other and then all of a sudden Sherlock started to curl up into a little ball, a small yawn escaping his lips, and he was asleep. Just like that.

John blinked.

And blinked again.

~~

It was a week until Sherlock was recovered. John looked over that morning to see Sherlock's naked torso.

"Morning," John yawned, sitting up.

"Morning, John. What day is it?" Sherlock asked with a furrow of his eyebrows.

"Tuesday, you've been out of it for nearly a week." He replied.

"Really? We've both missed classes then?"

"Mycroft wouldn't allow otherwise."

Sherlock nodded, a bit confused. In his mind he could see flashed of what happened when he was sick. He couldn't believe some of it.

"John?"

"Hmm?"

"What happened while I was sick?"

John stiffened. "Nothing really, Sherlock. Why do you ask?" He lied.

"No reason." Sherlock lied. "I must have had the oddest dream then." He added, standing and walking over to John who was getting dressed for the day.

"Really?" John gulped, avoiding Sherlock's gaze.

"Really. Now, don't get angry with me." Sherlock said, pulling John's chin up to look into his eyes. Slowly, Sherlock and John both leaned in, their heart beats speeding. And their lips met once more.

I DID A THING, MY LOVELY FOLLOWERS! I KNOW, IT HAS BEEN WEEKS. GIMME MORE IDEAS AND I SHALL WRITE THEM IF I THINK IT'S GOOD AND I WILL DEDICATE THE CHAPTER TO YOU. THANK YOU FOR READING :D

~Una