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The Surprise Boyfriend

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To his housemates, Sherlock Holmes was fairly easy to pin down.  Not easy to be around by any stretch of the imagination but he wasn’t as mysterious and brooding as he liked to pretend to be.  No one could deny he was smart (there was a reason he was at Cambridge after all), his tall stature could be quite intimidating and he wasn’t known to spare anyone’s feelings while on a deductive streak.  However there are things you cannot keep from people who are the first people you see in the morning and last you see at night. 

Some examples of Secrets Discovered By The House were:

Sherlock, while being annoyed at most of the human population for existing, adored dogs to the point that he would walk the long way back from campus simply to say hey to the dog that sat by the gate from 5-6pm every day.  Also Irene had found doesthedogdie.com bookmarked on his phone, despite his insistence that all films were stupid. 

Sherlock was good at crafts.  He would deny this until the universe imploded but the decorations around the house for the Halloween party and everyone’s birthdays begged to differ.  When confronted he said they were store bought obviously, as if he cared enough to make things, and why were they bothering him, couldn’t they see he was Very Busy?  This was all undermined by Molly finding what appeared to be half of Hobbycraft stuffed in the back of his wardrobe when she definitely wasn’t snooping.

Sherlock had totally read those trashy mystery novels Victor kept buying.  This was uncovered after a night out when both boys could be found in the living room yelling about the plot point to X novel in the something or other series.  Neither girl could really remember but the point was hearing Sherlock yelling “But cats don’t just murder people without motive Victor!” was worth the hangover. 

There were also the everyday things like his preferred cereal, how he liked his tea, not to be offended if he didn’t reply straight away, how to fend off the annoying older brother. 

All this is to say that when a strange, cute, blonde boy turned up at their door, the last thing they expected was for him to ask to see Sherlock. 

“Look, whatever he’s said or done, we’re real sorry but he’s not going to apologise so you’re wasting your time,” Irene drawled out the familiar speech.  They’d considered just getting a sign with it on to hang on the front door but Molly had insisted that people should at least get an apology from a real person.  It was surprising then that the boy simply laughed. 

“At least I know I have the right house.  But I’m not here to shout at him.  I’m John, Sherlock’s boyfriend.  The visit’s a surprise.”  

Irene stood blinking at the boy before her.  Victor appeared at her shoulder looking suspicious. 

“Boyfriend?” he questioned. 

“Yep, boyfriend.”

“As in going-out-with-in-the-romantic-sense boyfriend?”

“Yeah that tends to be the definition,” the boy looked puzzled but seemed happy to go along for the time being. 

"And we've never seen you because?"

"I study in London.  St Bart's if you want to ring up and check my credentials," he said smirking. 

“Do you have proof?” Irene asked.

“Proof?”

“Yes, proof.  Evidence.  Verification.  Commonly used to tell whether or not someone’s lying,” Victor added. 

“I’m sorry but I must have forgotten my official Sherlock Holmes boyfriend ID card,” John said, pretending to rifle in his pockets. 

Irene tried not to laugh.  “Okay smartarse, quick fire round: When’s his birthday?”

“6th January.”

“Favourite colour?”

“I believe the exact words were ‘Favourites are a stupid concept based on environmental and social pressures and stimuli’ but also secretly it’s blue.”

“Favourite breed of dog?”

“Irish Red Setter.  Easy.”  John was now sporting a very amused grin.  “Did I pass?” 

Before either Irene or Victor could retort there was the sound of movement on the stairs. 

“John?” said a deep, roughened morning-voice.  John’s face lit up with a beaming smile as a sleepy Sherlock froze on the stairs. 

“Surprise baby,” John replied.  Irene and Victor exchanged a Look as they backed away from the door.  “Baby?” Victor mouthed but Irene could only shrug as they retreated to the kitchen. 

Upon hearing John’s voice, Sherlock launched himself down the rest of the stairs and barrelled straight into him.  Locking his arms around John’s waist, he began nuzzling John’s neck with a contented “John,” slipping from his lips. 

“Hey,” John said softly, slinging one arm around Sherlock’s back and letting the other thread through those dark riotous curls. 

“I thought you had work today?” Sherlock said, his curiosity getting the better of him as he reluctantly pulling back from where he was nestled. 

“Well it’s been ages since we’ve been able to meet up and I’ve missed you like crazy so I got Bill to switch shifts with me and decided to come and surprise you.  Be all romantic or whatever,” he added teasingly, cupping Sherlock’s face. 

Instead of replying Sherlock leant in for a chaste kiss.  John tried to follow him as he pulled away but Sherlock kept only their foreheads in contact so he could add “I missed you too, you romantic idiot.”

“See that was almost sweet.  I’d call that progress.”

“Oh shut up John,” Sherlock said and leant back in for a longer, deeper kiss.  John’s hands slipped from his face to trail across his neck and hang over his shoulders and he hummed in satisfaction.  Sherlock parted his lips slightly, allowing John in as he traced John’s waist with his thumbs.  God, he’d missed him.  Texting and Skype and obsessive social media following couldn’t capture the solid intensity of this man; how they fit together despite all evidence to contrary; how treasured he felt with every touch and kiss and caress.  John sucked slowly on his top lip and then the plump bottom one and Sherlock shivered.  

“Sherlock,” John whispered, pulling back only a fraction. 

“Yes?”

“I’m fairly sure your housemates are spying on us from the kitchen.” 

John laughed softly as Sherlock huffed angrily and twisted a little to see three heads disappear back round the kitchen door. 

“Come on,” he said, pulling John towards the stairs.  “There’s no privacy in this damn house,” was the last grumble the people spying from the kitchen could hear. 

With this the two heads swivelled to stare at the third.  Molly often found it creepy how in sync Irene and Victor could be but she was getting better at ignoring it.

“What?” she said, turning back to tea and pointedly inspecting the counter tops. 

“Don’t ‘what?’ me!  How can you know something like this and not tell us?” Victor said sounding personally offended. 

“I thought you already knew! I mean come on.  The texting.  The secret smiles.  The giggling.”

Victor sat back to assess.  It was all strange, that was true, but all that had been going on for months, which would mean the relationship must have been going on for months and for him to not realise... It was a horrific thought. 

“We should probably leave,” Irene stated.  The others looked at her puzzled.  She rolled her eyes.  “Haven’t seen each other for a while.  Emotional reunion.  They’re upstairs together, alone,” she emphasised, gesturing with her coffee mug.  She watched as it dawned on the others, Victor reacting with a drawn out “Oooooh” and Molly with a squeak.  Irene simply shook her head.  They were both hopeless. 

“So brunch?” Victor said, louder than was really necessary. 

“Great idea,” Molly agreed and the three of them hurriedly scarpered from the house for a few hours, leaving the boys to their reuniting in peace.