Chapter Text
John stepped out of the car onto the gravel in front of the Holmes’ country estate and was hit full on in the face by the thick summer air before he suddenly found himself on the floor.
“John!” Sherlock tackled him, and this was the proper way to great someone, all arms and hair and flailing limbs.
“Oh Sherlock,” John laughed, reaching around to hug the younger boy, vaguely aware of their mothers laughing off to the side.
“It’s clear the boys missed each other,” Victoria smirked to Cynthia Watson.
John detached himself from Sherlock in time to see Harry Watson jump out of the back of the silver Chevy in white shorts and a Metallica tee, helped down by Mycroft in his usual tailored suit, the two of them making an odd pair.
“John, I have your room all set up. Mummy was going to give you the purple comforter, clearly inferior. Besides, I know blue is your favorite color…“ Sherlock all but rambled as John helped pull him up.
“Sherlock, breathe. We have a whole summer,” John promised and both boys could hear the unsaid promise of I’m leaving to Afghanistan in two months. But now was hardly the time for that.
“I have everything planned out,” Sherlock offered, taking John’s bags, and John couldn’t help but flash back to one year prior, following a boy he didn’t particularly like into a mansion that blew his mind. The house was just as big but the boy was a different story entirely.
“I was thinking we could go swimming, once you’re settled in,” Sherlock drolled on, walking up the steps to the boys’ connecting rooms. “And then perhaps tomorrow we could drive back up to the mountain range. I have proper camping gear now, we could-“
“Sherlock,” John stopped him and Sherlock looked up, dropping John’s bags on the floor of John’s room. The second they hit the floor, John had crossed the distance between them and pulled Sherlock into a searing kiss.
Usually their kisses were soft and calm, neither one rushing, neither one pushing. This kiss was desperate, the kiss of two boys denied each other for months. John’s hand went up to wrap itself in Sherlock’s black curls, and his other hand found the younger boy’s waist, desperately trying to pull them even closer.
Sherlock gasped as John bit his lower lip, worrying away at it a moment before capturing his mouth again, tongue darting in to reclaim lost territory. John pulled Sherlock’s tongue into his own mouth, sucking on it gently and Sherlock moaned embarrassingly loud, realizing suddenly the bedroom door was still open.
“John-“ Sherlock tried to warn him but he was cut off as John’s mouth found his again, his fingers digging deep into Sherlock’s scalp, leaving trails of fire and sending shivers of pleasure down Sherlock’s spine.
“God, I missed you so much,” John moaned against Sherlock’s mouth and Sherlock could have died, right then and there.
“I missed-“ Sherlock tried but he suddenly couldn’t put words together as John’s breath ghosted against his neck.
“Wonder if this still works,” John murmured against his skin and then his teeth were at the base of Sherlock’s jaw, the piece of skin that made Sherlock’s legs turn to water and he nipped at it. Sherlock groaned and John laughed underneath him, working at the skin until it bloomed red and Sherlock knew it would be purple tomorrow and he couldn’t have been happier.
John let go and rested his head against the taller boy’s shoulder and breathed deeply, smiling.
“Hey gorgeous,” he said, looking up and Sherlock didn’t know what on Earth he’d done to deserve this boy.
“Hi,” he managed, and John laughed softly against his chest.
“Come on, we should get back downstairs,” John advised. “Before your mum thinks we’ve run off an eloped.”
***
Dinner was a loud affair, especially for the Holmes household. Victoria Holmes was laying into John, asking him about his college plans.
“So this army business, you’re getting certified as a doctor while you’re there?” she asked, sipping at her drink.
“It’s a dual program,” John tried to explain, as Sherlock laced his fingers through John’s under the table. The older boy squeezed back with a smile and went on. “It’s like my residency, only for much longer.”
“Oh wonderful,” Victoria smiled. “We must throw you a going-away party at the end of August.”
“Vivi, it’s barely July,” Cynthia laughed, reminding the whole table she was the only person in quite possibly the world who could call Victoria Holmes Vivi and get away with it.
“You can never start party planning too early,” Victoria advised, before turning her attentions to the other end of the table. “Harry, how are you?”
Harry looked up from where she was engaged in a conversation with Mycroft. “Very well ma’am, thank you.”
“You are in Uni, yes?” Victoria asked.
“Last year,” Harry smiled.
“Ah yes, just a year younger than my Mycroft,” Victoria nodded. “What are your plans for after Uni? Mycroft has been offered a very prestigious position in the British government you know.”
Harry nodded but Cynthia’s eyes widened. “How marvelous Mycroft! And so young too.”
“They made him take his finals twice because they were so sure he cheated the first time around,” Sherlock whispered to John and John held in a laugh at the thought of Mycroft taking his finals in minutes, handing them off with no less than a sneer.
“Is there a woman in your life Mycroft?” Cynthia asked and John could see Mycroft’s hands clench imperceptibly under the table.
“Not yet, but there’s no doubt my Mycroft will marry a lovely woman and continue the Holmes family, isn’t that so?” Victoria smiled and Mycroft smiled back, the picture of the perfect son.
“I should be so lucky Mummy,” he said through a grin and John could see Harry eyeing him carefully.
“Well, at least two of our boys are taken care of,” Cynthia smiled down the table at John and Sherlock and the two teens blushed in unison.
“Tea?” Victoria asked in lieu of an answer and that was the end of that.
They were leaving the table when John finally asked Sherlock in a whisper,
“Does your Mum not like us together?”
Sherlock paused a moment before answering. “She’s conflicted. Such… relationships as ours are frowned upon in her circles.”
“She invited us back, I guess she can’t disapprove of me that much,” John offered and Sherlock shook his head lightly.
“She wants me to be happy,” he said and John reached out to squeeze his hand.
“Are you happy?” he asked and Sherlock shot him his ever-suffering-vexed-by-mere-mortals look.
“Deliriously,” he promised and the two boys raced upstairs.
***
John was on his way to the bathroom when he passed by what he knew was Harry’s room and stopped at the vicious tones echoing from the door. A good person wouldn’t stop and listen he thought and then decided to screw it and leaned in to hear better.
“-and after everything you said to me last year Mycroft! You held my hand while I came out, why can’t you do it too?” Harry’s voice trembled.
“It’s different for me Harry, you have to understand,” Mycroft’s voice was pleading and John heard a rustle and he could suddenly picture the scene, Harry and Mycroft on Harry’s bed, sitting across from each other, as Mycroft reached out to take Harry’s hands.
“You told me there was no point in being honest with myself if it made me ashamed of who I was. What are you going to do Mycroft, when she starts introducing you to women? Are you just going to tell Greg, ‘sorry love, can’t fuck you tonight, my mummy set me up on a blind date with some politician’s daughter from Sweden?’” Harry yelled.
“Harry please-“ Mycroft murmured and John had heard enough. He spun around and made his way back to Sherlock’s room where he found him coaxing two mice back into a cage.
“Oh John,” he smiled, a mouse in each hand. “Perfect. I was just about to put my experiment away.”
“Put it away, now,” John said, surprised at how low his voice came out and Sherlock startled. He gently placed the mice back in their cage and the second the door locked behind them, Sherlock found himself sprawled on the bed, John looming down on top of him.
“Promise me,” he growled and Sherlock’s eyes widened, “promise me that no matter what your mother says, no matter what anyone says, you will never leave me for some girl with a passport to sixteen different countries and enough blue blood to run sour.”
“John, you’re scaring me,” Sherlock whimpered and then John’s knee came up to nestle between Sherlock’s legs and Sherlock was profoundly not scared anymore.
“Promise,” John said, his hands pressing down roughly on Sherlock’s shoulders.
“I promise,” he choked out and he felt John visibly relax on top of him.
“I love you,” he sighed before he lowered him mouth down against Sherlock’s, starting slow. They kissed for a minute before John’s tongue came out to flick against Sherlock’s bottom lip and Sherlock dutifully opened, letting John tongue in to slowly explore the younger boy’s mouth, tracing teeth and gums before finally coming out to meet Sherlock’s tongue in a dizzying embrace that had Sherlock moaning against John’s mouth and twisting shamelessly against John’s offered knee.
“Woah, down boy,” John murmured, relaxed by the kiss. He broke off from Sherlock’s mouth and the younger boy whimpered at the loss of contact before John’s mouth was back, kissing up the side of his jaw before coming up to ear, licking the shell before biting down on the soft lobe and Sherlock was sure he’d never moaned so loud, unmuffled by John’s usually present mouth.
“The sounds you make,” John whispered, dragging his ear between his teeth as Sherlock tried pitifully to stay silent. “You have no idea how utterly sexy they are.”
“I-I-“ Sherlock stammered and then John was above him again.
“Shush,” he winked and Sherlock melted against the sheet. “No talking. Only moans.”
And with that his mouth crashed back down on Sherlock’s and the younger boy was more than happy to comply, moaning shamelessly into John’s open mouth.
John was suddenly aware of something hard pressing into his legs and he broke the kiss to look down.
Sherlock followed his line of sight and blushed furiously, his already red and panting face turning neon. “Sorry about that,” he gasped out and John laughed.
“Don’t be,” he smiled. “Always nice to be appreciated.” And with that he went back to Sherlock’s mouth, biting down on Sherlock’s already swollen bottom lip and Sherlock whimpered. John broke off to trail kisses down Sherlock’s chest as Sherlock’s hands sought purchase in John’s curls and John stopped at the rather obvious bulge in Sherlock’s pants before resting against it and breathing in slowly.
Never in Sherlock’s life had breathing been so magically less boring.
John’s fingers worked quickly at the zip before pulling down Sherlock’s trousers and pants. He paused for a moment to smile.
“Why hello there,” he said, addressing Sherlock’s cock and the younger boy would have laughed out loud if he wasn’t so focused on reminding himself how to breathe. “I missed you too, don’t you worry.”
Sherlock had missed a thousand and one things about John and amongst them was John’s mouth as it slid over him and he arched back and nearly cried.
“John-“ he moaned and John took a minute to smile up at him.
“I’ve barely started love. Don’t get too worked up yet,” he advised and Sherlock bit back the millions of dirty words that swam into his mind at the sight of John Watson kneeling above him, sucking him off.
Sherlock had the good sense to pray the rest of the house wasn’t awake or at the very least very busy as he came embarrassingly loud, John’s name falling like a prayer from his lips.
“Oh dear god John, oh fuck-“ Sherlock moaned like a terrible porn star and John laughed around him.
“Did the posh Sherlock Holmes just curse?” he laughed but Sherlock was so incredibly blissed out he could barely reply.
“You don’t know-“ he muttered, his hand reaching out to thread itself through John’s, “what you do to me.”
“I have some idea,” he promised, crawling up to kiss Sherlock.
Sherlock turned, noticing John’s pupils were still bright and dilated. “Let me- in a minute.”
“We have time,” John laughed, curling up into the arms of the taller boy. “We have all summer.”