Re: I'll attempt this! Fill 3/?
anonymous
May 8 2011, 05:17:42 UTC
Seb was sweet and interesting, and interested in John, which was almost foreign after weeks of Sherlock’s dismissal as he tried to track down Moriarty. They met again after the memorial service, dinner at Angelo’s where John was allowed to eat free.
“So I suppose you’re looking for a flatmate, then?” Seb had asked, after John had bemoaned his lack of funds for the much of the conversation.
The question made John freeze in his seat.
Seb ducked his head down, embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean -“
“It’s okay,” John said quickly. “It’s fine. And you’re right, I should be looking around. I just … it’s difficult.”
“Yeah,” said Seb. “I understand.”
His eyes weren’t dangerous anymore. They were kind, interested. John felt a fondness for him at that moment. They had a lot in common, both serving in the military and then sent back home, both missing and hating the war.
John questioned, “Why do you ask?”
“Because, well …” Seb scratched the back of his head. “I’m going to be homeless soon, my landlord’s kicking me out, and I thought …”
“Of course you can stay,” John said, cutting him off with a large grin on his face.
His hand was shaking on the table, resting by the salt. Just a tremor, not visible unless you were looking for it. Seb placed his larger hand on top, squeezed softly. The trembling stopped. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you, John.”
It was nice, to feel wanted again.
Seb’s move in went without hitch. He took John’s old room, which hadn’t been used in a while, and John moved the rest of his stuff into Sherlock’s. Seb was friendly to Mrs Hudson and did half of all the shopping, cooking and cleaning.
He slipped so easily into John’s life that John wasn’t even aware when things moved from friendship into something more.
“That was our third date,” Seb had announced, after returning home from a good Thai place. John, happy and content with food in his belly, didn’t react as shocked as he probably should have.
“I wasn’t aware they were dates,” he said, smiling. Seb crowded him against the door, smirking down at him. That hint of danger was back, and John swallowed, feeling the smile slipping off his face.
Seb’s fingers slid under his chin, tilting his head up. “I understand you aren’t aware of many things,” he whispered, and caught John’s lips with his own.
The kiss was firm, warm. Seb licked his way into John’s mouth and John moved his hands up to clutch at Seb’s shoulders. They pulled apart. It was dark in the hallway, and Seb was lit from behind by the light upstairs, his blond hair sparked at the edges like a halo. John wasn’t smiling.
“You and me,” Seb said, a hand over John’s heart.
John wanted to say something sensible, like that he needed to wait, that he was still grieving, that he and Seb would be best as flatmates and friends, but he didn’t.
Seb took his silence as a yes and kissed him again.
“So I suppose you’re looking for a flatmate, then?” Seb had asked, after John had bemoaned his lack of funds for the much of the conversation.
The question made John freeze in his seat.
Seb ducked his head down, embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean -“
“It’s okay,” John said quickly. “It’s fine. And you’re right, I should be looking around. I just … it’s difficult.”
“Yeah,” said Seb. “I understand.”
His eyes weren’t dangerous anymore. They were kind, interested. John felt a fondness for him at that moment. They had a lot in common, both serving in the military and then sent back home, both missing and hating the war.
John questioned, “Why do you ask?”
“Because, well …” Seb scratched the back of his head. “I’m going to be homeless soon, my landlord’s kicking me out, and I thought …”
“Of course you can stay,” John said, cutting him off with a large grin on his face.
His hand was shaking on the table, resting by the salt. Just a tremor, not visible unless you were looking for it. Seb placed his larger hand on top, squeezed softly. The trembling stopped. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you, John.”
It was nice, to feel wanted again.
Seb’s move in went without hitch. He took John’s old room, which hadn’t been used in a while, and John moved the rest of his stuff into Sherlock’s. Seb was friendly to Mrs Hudson and did half of all the shopping, cooking and cleaning.
He slipped so easily into John’s life that John wasn’t even aware when things moved from friendship into something more.
“That was our third date,” Seb had announced, after returning home from a good Thai place. John, happy and content with food in his belly, didn’t react as shocked as he probably should have.
“I wasn’t aware they were dates,” he said, smiling. Seb crowded him against the door, smirking down at him. That hint of danger was back, and John swallowed, feeling the smile slipping off his face.
Seb’s fingers slid under his chin, tilting his head up. “I understand you aren’t aware of many things,” he whispered, and caught John’s lips with his own.
The kiss was firm, warm. Seb licked his way into John’s mouth and John moved his hands up to clutch at Seb’s shoulders. They pulled apart. It was dark in the hallway, and Seb was lit from behind by the light upstairs, his blond hair sparked at the edges like a halo. John wasn’t smiling.
“You and me,” Seb said, a hand over John’s heart.
John wanted to say something sensible, like that he needed to wait, that he was still grieving, that he and Seb would be best as flatmates and friends, but he didn’t.
Seb took his silence as a yes and kissed him again.
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