Written more than a year ago, after watching the first series. I've not seen the new one yet, so nothing new to add that wouldn't possibly contradict canon. Heh - like this doesn't, anyway!

John crossed his arms in annoyance, tired of listening to Sherlock prattle on about how ineffectual and slow everyone around him was. It was true, sure, but seriously getting on his last nerve. He knew that he himself wasn't some uneducated idiot fresh off the street. He was a bloody doctor, for God's sake, and a damn good one.


"Quiet. I cannot think while you're talking. Does nothing of sense ever come out of your mouth?"

"Oi, now that's hardly fair. I'm not stupid, you know. I may not see things exactly like you do, but I can still reason things out. You may be some uber-amazing sleuth, but remember, you aren't always right. You didn't figure out that Harry was my sister, after all."

"A minor setback. I simply neglected to take into account the fact that you might have a sister, not a brother. Not that hard to assume, incorrectly, I know, that Harry was a man's name. Everything else was right, was it not?"

"Yes, it was, and I admitted it was bloody amazing. I would just like it, and you, a bit more if you took into account the fact that I am a damn smart person. I wouldn't be a doctor if I wasn't."

"You don't like me?"

"Now, I never said that."

"Yes, you did. Your words were, exactly, "I would just like it, and you, a bit more." That is hardly a ringing endorsement, now is it?"

"I didn't mean it like that. I just meant you would be an easier person to get along with, all the time, if you eased up on the constant insults. It's degrading."

"Well, once again, you neglected to make yourself clear. I still think you don't like me."

John sighed in resignation, as Sherlock pouted much like a small child in need of parental affirmation. It seemed that the only way to convince the man that he was, in fact, liked, would be to show him in a manner that would prove incontrovertible. With that thought in mind, he stepped purposely into Sherlock's personal space, placing a finger gently against his lips when he automatically opened his mouth to ask questions, or protest.

"Now it's your turn to be quiet. You want to know what I'm doing, correct?"

A slight nod of Sherlock's head answered his question.

"You didn't believe me when I said that I liked you, so now I'll have to show you. Please restrain yourself from making any comments that might make me change my mind."

He leaned forward slowly, maintaining eye contact with Sherlock the entire time, until he felt himself go a little cross-eyed with the effort. Closing the last few inches between them with his eyes closed, he lightly pressed his lips against Sherlock's surprised mouth, feeling the sudden intake of air that Sherlock took upon contact.

He slid his lips softly along the curve of Sherlock's mouth, before nipping gently at the full upper lip. A near-silent whimper of need spurred him to become bolder, his tongue licking along the seam, seeking entrance. Sherlock opened his mouth to allow him access, which he gladly took advantage of. He danced his tongue along the straight teeth, then flicked upwards to feel the ridges along the roof, finally dropping back to stroke along the length of Sherlock's own tongue.

He pulled back with reluctance, the need for air gaining an upper hand for the moment. Sherlock's eyes were closed, his lips swollen and pink. John restrained himself from diving in for another, more intense kiss. Time enough for that later, he hoped. Sherlock slowly opened his eyes, the pupils blown wide with desire.

"You know, I wouldn't do that with someone I didn't like. Maybe you should listen to me more often; you never know what you might learn."