Better Than Nicotine

So Much Better

“Bloody show-offs, the lot of you,” John laughed, pulling his lips away from Sherlock and looking from him to Mrs. Hudson. They were all smiling, all three, like a bunch of idiots and John just couldn’t believe it. Of all the things he thought about him and Sherlock doing, this certainly had never been one of them, though, he wasn’t complaining. Yet. This was Sherlock after all.

“Would you have me any other way?” Sherlock teased, “I mean really, John, why else would you stick around?”

An easy smirk slid across John’s face as he looked at Sherlock. “Please, if that was the only reason I stayed, I would’ve gone insane a long time ago, what with you sticking heads in the fridge.”

“He still doing that?” Mrs. Hudson asked, a look of horror crossing her features for the briefest second.

“It was an experiment,” Sherlock quickly defended, standing up a little straighter.

“When is it not?” John laughed, shaking his head. Boy, what was he getting himself into?

“My boys,” Mrs. Hudson beamed, but John had a feeling that it wasn’t simply because she was happy for them. She had been right. The. Whole. Damn. Time. And she knew it.

Sherlock’s arm stayed around John, and he pressed a kiss into John’s sandy hair, leaving John breathless for a moment. He eyed Sherlock next to him, unable to tell out of the three of them who was the happiest about this, and realized in that moment more than any other, that everyone had Sherlock wrong. He may be smarter than all the rest, but he was certainly no different than the rest at his core. In his heart. Even if he didn’t know it yet, love came as naturally to him as liking crap telly. It wasn’t something someone could just not do.

“You’re staring,” Sherlock pointed out, only making him stand up taller and smile wider.

“I do that a lot actually,” John confessed, and really, how could one not? Seriously. Those glorious dark curls, those perfect eyes so full of questions and color and life. That beautiful smile and brilliant mind. Annoying and ignorant at times, but so full of heart. Damn, what did he get himself into? How fast was he going to spiral into this? “I’ll stop if you like.”

“No-no, that’s… that’s perfectly alright,” Sherlock smiled.

As if John had any intentions of stopping anyways.

At the diner, John and Sherlock sat in their usual spot by the window, the waiter, as always, brought them their candle and menus. It felt like an actual date, but John did know better. This was just a normal lunch-dinner thing. Yeah.

“You look nervous,” Sherlock teased and John felt his face redden with heat. This wasn’t fair. He had no clue what was going on in that pretty head of Sherlock’s, while Sherlock was acting perfectly normal. No. That wasn’t right. He wasn’t acting entirely like he always did. There was something different, something smoother about everything he did, something with an easy confidence instead of that stiff and tense façade he put on for everyone else. Meanwhile, John felt like a fretting school girl.

“I don’t do nervous, Sherlock,” John lied, trying for that same slick tone Sherlock was using, moving with the same grace. It wasn’t working so nicely. God, he really was a school girl.

“You’re so cute when you do that,” Sherlock said, smirking and leaning forward. “When you think you’re getting away with some lie. You’re palms are sweating, your blushing. Your leg is bouncing.” John’s face only became redder and he tried to hide his smile. “That, right there. That’s also cute.”

“My god, I don’t think I’ve heard you compliment me that many times in a single sentence,” John laughed, doing his best to not be a school girl.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “John, you live with me, are with me every day. I can tolerate your presence in my life more than I can deal with anyone else. I pay you that compliment every day, nearly every second.” Sherlock leaned in a little closer. “Better even that I enjoy your company and you enjoy mine.”

Where the hell was this Sherlock coming from? John certainly wanted to know. Because as far as John knew, Sherlock was new to the dating thing. Could he really have come into his wings so quickly?

“You’re so full of surprises,” John said, casually letting his thoughts roll of his tongue.

Sherlock paused, blinked, and smiled at John. “I’m not the only one.”

Sherlock wasn’t going to lie to himself. Since he was young, he wondered what a relationship with someone would be like, even dreamed about it. But this was so far beyond what he was expecting, and he didn’t mind. This was better. This was perfect. Because this was John. A man who complimented him well with more than just his words, but as a person too. From the moment they had met, they had been like that, had that understanding, and together, in all their years of knowing each other, they had continued to grow and become closer, that bond of understanding becoming infinitely stronger.

“So have you heard from Lestrade about a case?” John asked after a moment, bringing up a usual topic of discussion, but this time, not one Sherlock cared about.

“No cases,” Sherlock said. “None that are interesting enough to take me away from what I’m going to be working on, or what I’d like to anyways.”

John’s turn to raise an eyebrow at Sherlock. “And what’s that?”

“Finding out what makes you tick,” Sherlock gave a devilish grin, his eyes alight with mischief.

“Tick?” John inquired, “You’ve known me for years, you know what makes me tick.”

“Not what makes you tick,” Sherlock said, “but what makes you tick.”

John’s eyes went wide for a brief second, but then his face relaxed. His entire body seemed to lose all of its tension. He licked his lips, the edges desperate to pull into a full smile. “Tick. Is that what they’re calling it now?”

Sherlock waved a hand around as if waving the question away. “How would I know?”

John laughed. “Oh Sherlock. Either way, you are seriously going to have to woe me before you get to woah-who me.”

Sherlock gave a little pout, “That doesn’t seem fair.”

“Not meant to be,” John replied casually, finding his confidence again. “So that means lots of fantastic days and fun nights while you try and figure out what makes me tick.”

Sherlock suppressed a shiver. John was so much better that nicotine. So much better that a murder case. “I always did like the clever ones.”