The moments before

"Um… is John around? Does he work here? John Watson?" Sherlock asked the woman behind the counter once he had looked around the entire store. She looked incredibly bored and incredibly already over it. She looks like she's younger than him though. High schooler probably.

"He's out back. He said someone would come by. Just walk through that employee's only door." She said like it exhausted her. Sherlock smiled and quickly walked out the door and looked around. Sure enough there was John Watson bundled up in his flannel button down, sweater, and heavy black coat. He still had on his jeans and work boots from earlier. He was sitting by a few silver metal bins on some stacked up crates.

"John." Sherlock said and smiled. He walked over and sat down next to the blonde. John smiled and looked him up and down. His eyebrows scrunched up for a moment but he kept smiling.

He had noticed Sherlock changed clothes. Sherlock didn't really wear pants. He didn't like the way they made him feel. Constricted and suffocating and all wrapped up. It was overwhelming at times. He had dawned a pair of thick black straight leg trousers instead of his skirt and he had thrown on his long coat.

"That's a nice coat, Sherl. Makes you look even taller." John said and laughed, side-eyeing the other boy who blushed and smiled.

Oh my god… a nickname. A nickname that isn't either an insult or a slur. Sherlock thought as his heart hammered against his chest. Sherlock reached into the side of the coat and pulled out two foil wrapped parcels.

"I got you just a plain pastrami on rye. I… I don't know what you eat yet." Sherlock explained and handed John the thicker one of the two. He had ordered himself a plain ham sandwich on white bread. He never got anything else. He doesn't like trying new things.

"Oh~ I like pastrami. It's nice all the time but a nice hot sandwich is good. Thank you, it was really sweet of you to bring to me." John said before digging into the steaming sandwich. Sherlock bit into his own and looked around. Tag, left handed, teenager, wanna be gangster, american, piss, literal piss.

"Where do you live?" Sherlock asked between his bites. While John had been focused on the heavenly sandwich he was eating, Sherlock had been thinking. John chewed and covered his mouth with his hand.

"On my friend's Greg's couch. I just gotta get more hours and I can afford rent somewhere." John explained. His hours at the store had been cut three times in the last four months. He couldn't afford rent in the place he had been staying so Greg had been letting him sleep on his couch.

Sherlock nodded. John Watson a couch hopper? No, no, no. He can split my rent and sleep with me in my bed in my as- in the upstairs bedroom. At least maybe. If he wants to. I could clean up some… I mean it's not like my lad at home but my papers and and

"Do you wanna sleep over at my flat?" Sherlock asked quickly. He bit into his sandwich again and seemed to become incredibly interested in a rock by his foot. John however almost spit out his food.

Is this for sex or for friendship? Sex? Friends? I thought Sherlock didn't have friends? Why would he ask? Wait… either way I get a bed. And maybe get laid by the cutest guy… Better than hearing Greg jack off again.

"Yeah. Yeah that would be good. Good. I get off at eight. What's your address? Baker Street wasn't it?" John asked. Sherlock's eyes widened and he smiled down at the pebble he'd been toeing at.

First part done. He'll come. And then maybe he'll cum. Jesus couldn't I've thought of something better than that? Sherlock mental scolded himself. He'd noticed himself acting more… well his age. Eighteen and sexually frustrated, attracted. Having a crush. He'd never allowed himself to feel such a way before. But John… John is something else.

"221b Baker Street. Mrs. Hudson lives down stairs but she won't bother you much. I've… I've got an extra bed. … If you want to sleep there." Sherlock said and finished his sandwich. John smiled and ate in silence till he was done.

"Sherlock, where else would I sleep other than the spare bed?" John said, fishing. He was fishing for something and he knew he'd hooked Sherlock by the way the brunette bit his lip.

"It's a small bed. I've got a much bigger one in my room. Though if you sleep there…" Sherlock said and looked over at John. He looked John up and down. John in turn looked at Sherlock and down at his watch. His break was over but a few minutes wouldn't hurt.

"If I sleep there, what?" John asked and stood up, moving to stand in front of the other boy. Sherlock looked up at John and it almost, almost made John pause. The way his lashes looked so delicate from this angle, the way the street light made all the sharp lines of his face razor like. It all made him look so… deadly. Like the glint of a knife blade.

"I might end up with tousled hair?" John said in a low quiet voice and pulled one of Sherlock's curls and watched it spring back.

I sure fucking hope he isn't actually a murderer. I'm gonna get my ass killed in a bloody alleyway. John thought to himself but kept his well practiced confidence up front.

Sherlock stared right back at him but didn't make a move to stand or shove the other away. Instead he stared into John's eyes like he was reading his soul. Like he knew exactly what John was thinking.

I'm glad he can't see how hard I am right now. Jesus bloody on a crisp, he's hot. Oh shove me down and make me choke… Sherlock thought as John stood commandingly over him. He felt so small and weak compared to the solid body in front of him. Like a bunny in the presence of a bear. He breathed slowly and watched John's eyes. The beautiful blue made him throb in his trousers.

"That I might end up needing a shower?" John said in that low voice again and bent down so his face was only inches away from the brunette's. John stared back at those diamond droplet eyes. Crystals. Gleaming and stunning.Now that he was looking at them up close though… He could see something. Something crazed, barely contained. Something uncontrollable, not like a storm, but rather like a hunger for something unattainable. A million... somethings firing all at once.

Sherlock stared right back. It took so much self restraint to not fidget. To not adjust himself so that his prick wasn't lying directly on the seam of his briefs. So much was going through his mind that he didn't notice John standing back up.

"Well, Sherlock Holmes, I think I'll see you tonight. I think I'll need to see if what they say about you is true or not. I've already taken a long break so I have to get back to work. I'll get a cab to your place. Bye Sherlock." John said and straightened his jacket and dusted off his bum. Sherlock swallowed and was about to speak when John leaned down and kissed his forehead.

Do. Not. Start. Crying. Sherlock told himself and waved absently at John as he walked back through the door. Sherlock was dazed. Innuendo? Invitation? Kiss? Kiss?? Kiss? John Hamish Watson kissed my forehead.

Sherlock thought as he walked through the ally to the road and down the sidewalk. He didn't even know where he was just walking. Second nature, his feet talking him home while his mind wandered.

He's coming to my flat. It worked? It worked. John is comi ng to my house and expecting sex. Sex. Sex with John Watson… I need to prepare. Lube. Condom. I need to clean out. I need to change the sheets. I need to put towels by the bed. Will he put his in me? Will he want mine in him? I don't like it when people touch mine. Will he let me touch him? Will he want to touch me? Will he be gentle…

His mind kept thinking more and more as he opened his door and went to his bedroom and stripped. He got in the bath and started his ritual preparation.

In the convenience store John was doing a happy dance and drinking a Gatorade. He had a smile plastered on his face. The anxiety of not knowing how it was going to go was being drowned out by the fact that he was going to go sleep with Sherlock Holmes. He was going to kiss and touch and rub and fuck Sherlock Holmes. Tonight. In a few hours. It was going to be a night to remember…

Hopefully in a good way.