Archive of Our Own ^beta

Summer Heat

"I don't think that`s a good idea."

Sherlock merely threw his brother a sideward glance and turned his focus back to the reflection in the mirror once more. Usually, he would have gladly argued with Mycroft, but Sherlock was already running a little late and if he was drawn into a discussion with his elder brother on top of it, then he would certainly be late for his... outing with John.

A small smile flickered over Sherlock's lips, when he remembered how thrilled his best friend had been, when Sherlock had agreed to accompany him to the zoo this weekend. Not that Sherlock was a huge fan of animals, but he would go almost anywhere, as long as it meant that he was with John.

His best friend, John Watson, captain of the rugby team at school, one year older than Sherlock and the most amazing human being the young man had ever had the fortune to meet. Sherlock wouldn't stand him up, just because Mycroft had some misgivings about their... outing. After all, it wasn't said that John wouldn't find himself another girlfriend before the summer ended and then Sherlock wouldn't see him so often anymore. Of course, they would still text, but the - not yet existent - girlfriend would call the tune and Sherlock would have to stand back, if he didn't want to anger John. The thought made him grimace and he pushed it aside fast, before it was able to ruin his day completely. John would probably never be interested in him - although Sherlock was almost certain that his best friend was bisexual - but for today at least, he would be completely Sherlock's. With that in mind, Sherlock reached to his left, only to make contact with the blank wood of the sideboard.

He blinked, looked down at the floor and then turned around to glare at Mycroft, who was holding Sherlock's binder at arm's length and with a look of disgust on his face.

"You can't be serious about wearing that today." The voice of his brother resonated with disbelief and Sherlock clenched his fists at his side to stop himself from hitting Mycroft. Mummy would be cross with him if Sherlock fought with his brother. Instead, Sherlock took a calming breath and then directed his most hateful glare at Mycroft. "I'm going to wear that and you aren't going to stop me. If you don't give my binder back, then I'll just use ace bandages."

Sherlock still remembered how furious Mycroft had been, when he had found out about Sherlock binding his breasts with ace bandages. For days, Mycroft had ranted about Sherlock's stupidity and how much damage he could do to himself if he went on like this. Mummy had ended their little war by buying Sherlock a set of binders and making him promise not to bind at home, as long as they didn't have any guests. Obviously, she had done some research about how long one could safely bind their breasts each day, without risking any damage.

In retrospective, it hadn't been the most elegant way to let his family know that he was transgender, but since everything had played out well in the end, Sherlock certainly wasn't going to complain about it. What he was going to complain about, was the disapproving look on Mycroft's face, when he glanced at Sherlock's chest and then shook his head. His elder brother hadn't had any problems with Sherlock being a boy, so what had brought this one up?

As if he had read his mind - and sometimes Sherlock was certain that Mycroft did just that - his elder brother pointed to the window, through which rays of sunlight filtered. "We are supposed to hit the 40°C mark today. It will be unbearable hot. I don't even know how you got the idea to go to the zoo in that weather, but it's very unwise to wear a binder. It restricts your chest and makes it harder for you to breath and with these temperatures..."

"So what do you suggest?!" Sherlock bared his teeth and glowered at Mycroft. "Do you want me to go without a binder? I'm aware that I have very small breasts - thankfully - and that I can easily hide them under wide clothes and that no stranger is going to confuse me with a girl, but John knows how my chest is supposed to look like and he will certainly notice if there are suddenly two... bumps where there haven't been any before."

To be honest, Sherlock had had this discussion many times with his brother, since Mycroft obviously didn't trust him to know his body's limits... or pay them any mind. In the end they had tested Mycroft's theory that no one would confuse Sherlock with a girl, if he wore wide shirts without a binder under them. With gritted teeth, Sherlock had had to admit that his elder brother had been right about it, but he certainly had never told Mycroft that he had liked his body much better after their little experiment. Mycroft would have only become unbearable smug, if Sherlock had revealed to him that he felt much more comfortable in his body, after learning that he didn't appear feminine to people. Of course, Sherlock knew that he didn't have to pass as a boy to be one - and maybe one day he wouldn't care about it anymore - but right now, it was important to him and therefore he was glad that people recognized him as a boy.

Still, that wasn't the point today and Sherlock cursed himself inwardly for letting himself getting sidetracked. It was hard enough as it was to win an argument against Mycroft, without his thoughts drifting away.

"You could go on your date with John, without a binder. It would be much easier, although canceling it would be even more efficient."

Sherlock bristled at the suggestion. "John and I aren't dating. John is only interested in girls - to his own acknowledgement - and... No, you aren't suggesting that I..."

All the color drained from Sherlock's face, while he stared at his brother in disbelief. After all the years Mycroft had supported him - from finding Sherlock a new school, where he could start anew over convincing their parents to allow Sherlock to use hormone suppressants to accompanying Sherlock to his doctor's appointments - he couldn't turn against him now.

Sherlock forced a shuddering breath in his suddenly tight chest. His parents had accepted him, but they had needed some time to get used to the idea that they had two sons. Also, they hadn't had the time to support Sherlock as much as his elder brother had. Mycroft had made sure that Sherlock got the chance to stop puberty at the age of thirteen - not soon enough for his breasts, but better than enduring it any longer - and had found him the best endocrinologist. He had convinced their mother that it would be best to allow Sherlock to start with the testosterone injections at the earliest possible date - one year ago, with sixteen - and Mycroft had come to Sherlock's room and... had held him, when Sherlock had cried his eyes out on occasions. Without Mycroft, Sherlock would have had to live through the whole wrong puberty and he didn't know if he would have been able to endure that. Sherlock was thankful for his brother's support, but now it appeared like Mycroft wanted Sherlock to date John as a girl. Yes, it sounded like he was suggesting that Sherlock threw away all the efforts of the last years and live a lie once more.

"God, Sherlock... No, of course not! I would never suggest to you to be someone, you are not!"

Warily, Sherlock glanced at his brother, who looked like he might be ill at any second. His grey eyes were filled with horror and disbelief, when Mycroft shook his head at Sherlock's unvoiced accusations. "You aren't a girl, Sherlock and I would never ask you to be one, but I also don't want you to get hurt." There was a pleading, desperate note in his brother's voice and it took Sherlock a second to realize that Mycroft was talking about more than the binder.

"You think that John is going to break my heart, because he won't be able to accept me the way I am and that I'll lose my best and only friend if he finds out. That's why you are more keen on convincing me to cancel the... our outing, instead of going out without a binder. It's the only possibility to make sure that I don't get hurt either way."

Sherlock wasn't sure how he should feel about that. On the one hand, he was happy that Mycroft cared so much about him, on the other hand... it was hard to have his elder brother confirm Sherlock's deepest fears. If even Mycroft believed that John wouldn't accept him, then...

"Sherlock," Mycroft stepped farther into the room, until they were only inches apart and his brother reached out a hand to run through Sherlock's curls like he had done when they had been children. "You are right that I'm afraid that you'll faint in this heat, if you wear a binder, but you are wrong, when you assume that John Watson is going to end your friendship. He appears to be the kind of young man, who will stick to his friends no matter what."

A small smile lit up Sherlock's face at that, but it disappeared again, when he realized what Mycroft hadn't said. "Still, you doubt that he would ever want to be my boyfriend." There was no use in pretending any longer that Sherlock didn't have any feelings for John. Mycroft obviously knew about them, otherwise he wouldn't have teased Sherlock about their date.

"I'm not certain about that, brother mine."

Sherlock kept silent and leaned into the touch of his brother's hand as his fingers kept running through his curls. He had been looking forward to today and now... he was almost ready to call John and cancel their outing to the zoo. What use was it, if John was going to find himself a girlfriend - or maybe even a boyfriend - at some point, with which Sherlock would never be able to compete, since he couldn't reveal his feelings to John, without revealing his secret to him as well and then... John would be totally put off.

"Hey, Sherlock," Mycroft's voice called him back from the dark place in his head and Sherlock blinked up at his elder brother, who was wearing a conflicted expression. "I didn't mean to upset you and... I hadn't realized how much John truly means to you. So, just promise me to stay out of the sun as much as possible and enjoy your time with your friend."

Sherlock's eyes widened when his brother fished a small package from where he had placed it on the sideboard, while Sherlock had been distracted. It was a brand-new binder, with a hook-and-loop fastener, which would be much easier to put on than his other ones. Sherlock only gaped at Mycroft and then did something he hadn't done in ages: He threw his arms around Mycroft and hugged him.

"Thank you." Sherlock murmured in his brother's neck as Mycroft squeezed him back. "You are welcome, just... be careful, brother dear," Mycroft whispered in his curls and Sherlock knew that it was meant in more way than one.

OOO

"Wow, I have never seen such a lazy tiger before."

Sherlock rolled his eyes at John's almost childish joy, but couldn`t help the smile that spread over his face, while he watched his friend trying to get the animal's attention.

"If you fall into the lake, I won't jump in after you," Sherlock warned his friend, when John leaned over the balustrade. They were standing on a little bridge that led over the compound of the tigers to which a small lake belonged. "That would be a terrible idea, indeed." John nudged his shoulder with a grin and a wink and then tried to get the tiger's attention again by thumbing his fingers on the balustrade.

This time, Sherlock was thankful for his friend's childish tendencies. Otherwise, John would have noticed the puzzled look on Sherlock's face, after his latest comment. Why did John think that it would be a terrible idea for him to jump into a lake after him, except for the point that tigers were able to swim as well?

He almost asked John for clarification, before it hit him.

John thought that he couldn't swim. Sherlock grinded his teeth at that, although there was no one to direct his anger at, besides himself. After all, he had told John this lie, in order to stop his friend from nagging him about going swimming during the summer.

"Sherlock!"

The sound of John's voice suggested that he wanted something from Sherlock. The fact that he had asked the same question during the last week numerous times, led to the conclusion that it would be the same one once more.

Sherlock sighed, but stopped on the pathway to wait for his best friend to catch up with him.
"Don't you have rugby practice?" Sherlock greeted John, who was still wearing his sport clothes and spotting a deep flush in his cheeks. He looked fantastic and Sherlock had a hard time blanking his face, so that John wouldn't notice the longing in his eyes when his gaze wandered over John's body, noting how much muscle mass John had gained over the school year.

"I skipped the end, in order to catch you." John winked at him and Sherlock just hoped that he would think Sherlock's blush came from too much exposure to the sun.

"So, what's so important then that you couldn't just text me?"

"You and your texting," John muttered, but it was without any heat and Sherlock allowed a small smile to show on his face, while what he really wanted to do was to huge John close and breath in his unique - and sweaty - scent.

"I wanted to ask, if you want to go swimming today. After all it's the last day of classes and... I can even get my mother's car. We can go somewhere, where no one knows us."

Sherlock considered the idea for a second, but then he shook his head. He enjoyed swimming and he would love seeing John in swimming trunks and having an excuse for touching him accidentally, but... there was no way that Sherlock could wear his binder at the swimming pool. John would know everything, right after they had changed their clothes and that was a risk Sherlock wasn't willing to take.

"I told you, I don't want to go swimming."

John sighed. A disappointed look crossed his face and Sherlock fidgeted nervously with his school bag. He didn't want to disappoint John, but it wasn't possible to go swimming with him either, therefore...

"I can't... swim."

The lie stumbled from his lips and Sherlock felt himself blush, when John's eyes snapped up to his. Disbelief was written all over his features and Sherlock fought against the sudden urge to flee. It was mortifying to admit to John that he wasn't capable of something most people took for granted... especially when it wasn't true.

Some of Sherlock's feelings must have shown on his face, since John's expression softened and he directed an apologetically look at Sherlock. "Sorry, I didn't... It's fine, you could have just told me before and... listen would you like to do something else this weekend?"

Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief that John had swallowed his lie like that, without any farther inquiries. He still wondered why his friend was so keen on spending so much time with him, when John was so popular that most students would jump at the chance to spend a whole day with him - especially the girls. Nevertheless, Sherlock wouldn't allow an opportunity to have John to himself pass. Especially not, when they only had one more year at school together, before life would certainly separate them.

Sherlock gulped down the nausea that came with the thought and instead forced himself to be thankful that he knew John at all. If Sherlock hadn't skipped a year, they wouldn't have had courses together and they would have never been paired up in chemistry. Therefore, Sherlock already had gotten more than he could have ever hoped for.

Sherlock cocked his head to the side and grinned at John.

"What do you have in mind?"

And that was how they had come to go to the zoo at the - so far - hottest day of the year. Sherlock leaned back against a tree and observed John, who was watching the seals with a silly grin on his face.

Really, if it was someone other than John, Sherlock wouldn't have been able to stand such pedestrian behavior, but for some reason, he didn't mind John's childish squeals, whenever one of the seals jumped into the water. Somehow, Sherlock found all of John's actions adorable and fascinating. No matter if he prepared tea or was searching for stupid movies online, Sherlock could have watched his friend for hours, when he usually wasn't able to stand inactivity for longer than absolutely necessary.

Simply said, John was special!

A secretive smile turned up Sherlock's lips, just when John turned around and met his gaze. Sherlock's breath hitched in his chest when their eyes locked. In movies, this was the scene, when the two main characters would share their first kiss and...

"You have to look at the baby seal!"

Sherlock scolded himself inwardly for his own sappy thoughts and allowed John to drag him out of the shadow of the tree, so that he had a better look at the seals. To be honest, Sherlock would have preferred to remain in the shadow. The sun was much too hot for his liking and sweat started running down his back and legs as soon as he stepped into its light. It was disgusting to have all of his clothes sticking to his skin, but it wasn't by far the worst sensation. Sherlock put his arms on the stone balustrade and leaned forwards.

"They are fascinating, aren't they?"

Sherlock merely grunted to John's inquiry, although he didn't pay attention to the seals at all. He was more worried about releasing the pressure on his chest than watching some neurotic animals diving into the water. Sherlock didn't like to admit it, but Mycroft had been right. The binder had been a bad idea. Usually, Sherlock didn't even notice it anymore, but today it felt like someone had wound a metal ring around his lungs to stop them from contracting. Sherlock forced a wheezing breath into his lungs and released it with a surprised cough, when John's hand landed on his shoulder.

"Sorry, I didn't want to startle you." Sherlock shook his head and straightened up to his full height, although it made his head spin. "Are you alright? You look a little... exhausted."

It was an understatement to how Sherlock actually felt, but he only shrugged. "I'm not used to such heat. If we could just sit in the shadow for a second, that would be helpful."

"Of course," John squeezed his shoulder and let his hand wander over Sherlock's arm to his wrist and tugged at it playfully. "Around the corner is a nice, little pond with ducks and swans. We can sit in the shadow of one of the trees."

On any other day, Sherlock would have questioned why John wanted to bring him to a private little spot in the zoo or why his friend didn't let go of his hand, but he was too preoccupied to force his body to take one step after another to pay John's actions any mind.

By the time they had reached the pond, Sherlock's head was spinning in earnest, his heart was pounding in his chest like he had just ran a marathon and his body was drenched in sweat. Sherlock took a deep breath, willing himself to master the last remaining meters to the shadowy spot, when a piercing pain in his chest made him gasp loudly.

"Sherlock!"

John's panicked voice sounded like it was coming from far away, although Sherlock was certain that his friend was standing right next to him. Hands gripped Sherlock's arms, when the world spun around him and dark spots danced in his vision.

"Can't... breathe," Sherlock pressed out and then the world around him went dark.

OOO

It was cooler.

That was the first thing, Sherlock's mind registered, when it came back online, after its forced shut down. The heat from before had been reduced by about five degrees and the light that filtered through his closed eyelids was dimmer as well. The only logical conclusion was, that he was in a shady place, since it was much too early for the sun to set.

A gentle breeze ruffled his curls and leaves rustled somewhere above him. Ergo, he was below a tree. Sherlock still felt like he was walking through a fog as he tried to assess his situation, without opening his eyes. He remembered going to the zoo with John and feeling unwell. Since he was now lying down, the most obvious conclusion was that he had indeed fainted.

Sherlock frowned slightly at that. He couldn't have been out for long, otherwise John wouldn't have brought him into the shadow of a tree, but he would have called an ambulance instead. Since, his friend was also sitting fairly calm with him - yes, this was John's denim clad thigh Sherlock's head was bedded on - it was safe to say that John wasn't afraid for Sherlock`s wellbeing. From what Sherlock had learned about his friend, he would only be so calm if he was aware of the reasons for his faint and...

Sherlock's eyes snapped open, while his hands flew to his chest at the same time. They didn't encounter the expected fabric, but smooth skin. Smooth skin and no binder, Sherlock realized with a sinking feeling, even when he dared looking down at himself to verify his findings with his other senses. No, he had been right, the buttons of his shirt had been opened and the fabric pulled aside to reveal the smooth skin of his chest and... breasts. They were free in the open for all the world to see... or at least for John to see and that was even worse as far as Sherlock was concerned. His friend wasn't supposed to know that Sherlock was transgender and start treating him differently for it. At the very least, John wasn't supposed to find out about it like this, when Sherlock hadn't even been able to judge John's reactions to the revelation.

"Are you feeling better?" John's soft voice sounded genuinely concerned, but Sherlock didn't dare to meet his friend's gaze for fear what he would see in it. Concern, after all, didn't mean anything. John had been concerned about the school bully's bloodied nose, after he had crashed the idiot in the nearest wall himself. So of course, John would be concerned for Sherlock after he had fainted, but that didn't mean that they were still... friends.

Sherlock swallowed against the hot lump in his throat, when he imagined what his life would be like, once John had walked out of it. He would be alone once more, without friends, an outcast at school. A freak, with whom you only made nice if you wanted to get some help with a project or your homework. And if John told everyone what he had seen today... but no, John wouldn't do that. At least, of that, Sherlock was certain. John wasn't the kind of boy to bully someone. Still, that thought did little to calm Sherlock down, when he grabbed the fabric of his shirt with both hands to do up the buttons. An almost impossible task with shaking hands and while he felt like his whole world had just crumbled down at his feet.

"Shall I do them up for you?" Warm hands covered his and Sherlock stopped in his attempt at buttoning up his shirt and nodded slowly. John probably wanted to get out of this situation and away from Sherlock as fast as possible. There was no other explanation, why his friend - John would always be Sherlock's friend, even if he wasn't considered John`s anymore - would offer his help like that. "I'm sorry that I undressed you partly, without your consent, but... you were breathing shallowly and I was... you terrified me back then, Sherlock."

He didn't reply to John`s words, but merely waited until his shirt had been buttoned up once more, before he sat up and scrambled to his knees. Which was as far as Sherlock got, when his head started spinning again and he had to sit back on his heels to prevent himself from keeling over once more.

"Take it slow! You just fainted, for Christ's sake!"

Sherlock sighed and stared at the grass on the ground, instead of looking up at John. "You don't have to stay with me. Just call Mycroft and he will get me."

Grass rustled, when John shifted his weight and Sherlock noted that his friend was kneeling right in front of him now. "Why should I call your brother? Are you feeling that badly?"

Of course, John was aware of Sherlock's aversion to asking Mycroft for help, but Sherlock had rather thought that his friend would jump at the chance of getting away from him, instead of asking questions. "And how did you get the idea that I would just leave you alone? I made sure that you didn't hit your head, when you fell, but obviously your mind still isn't working correctly. Otherwise you wouldn't think such nonsense."

A sad smile pulled at Sherlock's lips, when he spoke to the grass. "I just wanted to give you a chance to get away from me, after all..."

"Stop!" John's almost shout interrupted Sherlock's little speech and against his better judgment his head snapped up to meet his friend's confused gaze. "Did I miss something? Why should I want to get away from you?" John sounded genuinely puzzled and any other time, Sherlock would have believed his bewilderment, but it was impossible to do so now. He didn't know why John was playing dumb - since there was no chance that he had confused Sherlock's breasts with anything else - but he was tired of it already. Better to get it over with, as long as Sherlock was still able to hold back the moisture that burned in his eyes.

"Because," Sherlock snapped and tried blanking is voice of all emotions. "I was wearing a fucking binder, when I fainted."

A flicker of something Sherlock wasn't able to identify passed over John's features, before he frowned at Sherlock. "I admit, that was rather stupid of you, considering the temperatures, but I'm not going to leave you because you did something crazy. Otherwise," John's lips twitched in a small grin. "I would have turned my back on you, after we had broken into the labs at night to finish a chemistry experiment."

Sherlock sighed and shook his head, even while he thought back to that episode in their friendship with fondness. Especially, since the days, when he had had a friend to undertake crazy missions with, were obviously over. He didn't understand why John wasn't starting on the most likely topic - Sherlock's gender - or why he pretended that it didn't matter to him, but he was certain that his friend wouldn't be able to put up this show much longer. At least, it meant that Sherlock was free to handle the situation in his own way, although that wouldn't change anything in the long run, but confrontation had always worked best for him.

After taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders back, Sherlock was, at least partly, prepared for the worst part of the entry day. "I'm not talking about temperatures and constricted chests, I'm referring to the fact that you just found out that I'm transgender."

At Sherlock's words, John's eyes widened almost comically, when he stared at Sherlock like he had just grown a second head. "Are you kidding me?!" Sherlock flinched back at the accusing tone. If even John couldn't accept him the way he was, then...

"If you can't make the connection between a binder and me being transgender, then I rather hope that you aren't accepted into medical school." Sherlock had intended the words to come out as a sneer, instead they sounded more broken than he would have liked and if Sherlock trusted his body, he would have jumped up and ran away this instant. How humiliating to be on the verge of tears like... a girl. Sherlock grimaced at the thought and almost missed John's next words, since he was busy distracting himself from the hot lump in his chest.

"I meant... do you truly believe that I would... leave you, because you are transgender?! Do you think our friendship means so little to me?!" Sherlock wasn't able to respond to that as he kept staring at John, who was glaring at him by now. "Yes, I admit that I was surprised, when I opened your shirt, but... it's fine. I know a little about gender identities and I'm not going to end our friendship over something that's a part of you... you, dickhead!"

Thoughts raced through Sherlock's mind at high speed, when his mind tried to process the meaning behind John's words. If John was to be believed, then he wasn't going to cut off his ties with Sherlock. No, he didn't even appear troubled by the prospect of Sherlock's gender identity. John was just taking it in stride and... Ah yes, he had probably met other transgender people through his sister, who was a spokeswoman for the LGBT movement. That explained, why he didn't freak out.

Sherlock relaxed a little and felt the burning sensation in his chest ebb away, even though his smile still felt forced, when he directed it at John. "My apologizes, I... not even Mycroft reacted like that and... I'm sure you have questions as well."

Truthfully, his brother hadn't asked any intrusive questions - he hadn't had to, Sherlock had been relieved to finally have someone to talk to about his troubles - and Sherlock knew that he left himself wide open for any number of nasty inquiries, but he felt like he owed that to John. After all, Sherlock doubted that everyone would react like that after stumbling over Sherlock's biggest secret.

John sighed.

It was his Sherlock-doesn't-know-how-to-talk-about-feelings-but-I-forgive-him sigh and then cocked his head to the side with a small grin. "Actually, I only have two questions."

Sherlock nodded and mentally prepared himself for any number of inquiries that John could send his way. It wouldn't be something as stupid as How can you be a man without a penis or Are you sure it isn't just a phase, that wouldn't fit John's attitude towards Sherlock so far. Since John wanted to become a doctor, he would probably inquire after hormones or planned surgeries. Not that Sherlock wanted to talk about it, but if John wanted to know then...

"Can you swim?"

Sherlock blinked.

"I beg your pardon."

A small chuckle escaped his friend`s lips. "I want to know if you truly can't swim or if you just made that up, so that I would stop pestering you about going to the pool with me, because you didn't want me to see your chest."

That was... Sherlock hadn't expected this question and the blush that crept into his cheeks certainly wasn't dignified, when he replied to it. "We have a pool at home, so yes, I can swim."

"You have a pool at home... that settles it, I'll never pay entry for a swimming pool again, from today forward I'll go swimming at your pool."

That wrung a chuckled from Sherlock's throat. "If you don't mind me swimming without... topless I mean."

John frowned at him, the way he always did, when their math teacher explained a new formula to them. "Why shouldn't you go swimming topless? I am certainly not going to wear a swimsuit either." His voice was completely honest and Sherlock barely stopped himself from leaning over and hugging John close for being so... typical John. Dear God, how had he ever been able to doubt his friend? Sherlock shook his head at that thought with a slow grin and almost choked on John's next question, when it caught him completely by surprise.

"Do you want to be my boyfriend?"

For a second Sherlock feared that he had blacked out once more, only with the addition of a dream this time, since it appeared unbelievable that John had just asked him to be his... boyfriend.

Sherlock blinked slowly at his friend. John appeared absolutely serious. There was hope and eagerness in his gaze, as well as fear and nervousness. All the data pointed to the fact that Sherlock's hearing hadn't decreased and that John indeed wanted to be in a relationship with him.

Furtively, Sherlock placed his hand on his thigh and pinched - just in case that he was only hallucinating. The sharp bite of pain was enough to convince him that this scene wasn't a fabricate of his subconscious, but reality. That only left the question why John suddenly wanted to be with Sherlock in this way. As far as he could think back, Sherlock couldn't recall any indication that John had ever desired to be in a relationship with him until...

Sherlock almost gasped out loud, when the realisation hit him. John had only ever dated girls and although he had asked Sherlock to be his boyfriend, John had only done so after he had learned of Sherlock's gender identification... and John wasn't stupid enough not to know what it meant in regards to Sherlock's body.

The blood drained from Sherlock's face, while he kept staring at his best friend and trying to figure out what to do next. Sherlock knew that he should tell John off and refuse to be in a relationship with him, on these terms. But his lips weren't forming any words and Sherlock hated himself for keeping silent, while entertaining the idea of replying with yes to John's question at the same time. God only knew how long Sherlock had fantasized about kissing his best friend and about what might happen if Sherlock invited John for a sleepover. The truth was, Sherlock wanted to be with John, but he also wanted to be himself and if his friend only wanted him because Sherlock had gotten breasts, then... he still couldn't make a decision.

"I..." Sherlock started, feeling that he had to say something, but not knowing what words to use at the same time. "It's... why?" Congratulations, Mr. Holmes, Sherlock mocked himself sarcastically, that was the epitome of eloquence, John won`t have a problem guessing the meaning of your words at all!

"You mean, why I want to be with you?"

Sherlock stopped himself from gaping just in time and nodded. Leave it to John to follow the paths of Sherlock's mind like it wasn't complicated at all.

John scratched his head thoughtfully and then shrugged, although his smile appeared a little forced, when he met Sherlock's gaze. "I have recently noticed - yes, you can call me slow - that I rather like to spend time with you. Even when I'm with someone else - my ex-girlfriend for example - I found myself imagining how much better a time I would have had with you. It's... I'm always thinking of you." A blush rose in John's cheeks and it was the most endearing sight, Sherlock had ever come across. "I want to spend time with you and I... Hell, I want to kiss you, Sherlock. I want to go out on dates with you and have you insult any other person in a ten meters radius. I want... I just want to be with you."

If it were possible for heads to melt away, John's would be a puddle on the ground by now, judging from how much heat had to radiate from his face for his cheeks to be of such a deep crimson. Sherlock was certain that he was spotting an equally mortifying blush, but he didn't have the time to focus on it. There were much more important matters to pay his attention to, if he didn't want this to go badly.

"You usually don't date... boys." It was a statement on Sherlock's part, therefore he frowned slightly, when John shook his head at it. "Correction, I haven't dated any boys, since I have met you. I had a boyfriend when I was sixteen and... eh, a less serious encounter when I was fifteen, but wait a second," John`s expression turned serious, when he regarded Sherlock carefully, like he was a math problem, he wasn`t able to solve. That was, at least, until a light went on in his eyes, while his expression fell at the same time. "If you thought that I only dated girls, then... No, I didn't make that decision on a whim, when I saw... it has nothing to do with your secondary sexual characteristics."

Sherlock couldn't help himself, he snorted at the last part of John's sentence. Leave it to John to talk about tits, cocks and arses all the time, only to become political correct, when he was discussing things with Sherlock.

"Believe me, Sherlock," John's voice sounded almost pleading, when he inched closer to Sherlock and placed his hand on top of Sherlock's. "I already wanted to be with you, when I didn't know... everything. Hell, I even tried to be creative and go to the zoo with you to have a nice setting for asking you to become my boyfriend. I'll never see you as a girl, because... you just aren't one and your breasts don't change that."

For a second, all Sherlock could do was to stop himself from jumping at John and kissing him senseless. He could see the honesty of John's words mirrored in his eyes and if Sherlock took the time to think back to their time together during the last year, he would certainly find clues as to when John had started fancying him. It should be so easy to admit to John that he felt the same and that Sherlock wanted to be in a relationship with him, but...

"It's not only my breasts, I... I don't know what you are used to in regards to sexual encounters with boys, but..."

"Christ, Sherlock!" He almost flinched away at the angry tone of John's voice, if it hadn't been for the softness, that was reflected in the eyes of his best friend. "I certainly like sex, but I'm not proposing that we jump into bed together right this minute. After all, you mentioned once that you had never... and even if you had, it's not something I'm comfortable with in a serious relationship."

"At least, you know what you are comfortable with." Sherlock knew that his voice sounded bitter, but he couldn't help it. John was experienced in bed and Sherlock had only ever masturbated. He could tell how to bring himself off, but... he didn't have the first clue what he would like to happen with another person. Of course, there were fantasies, but reality was always a different matter and to top it all off, Sherlock couldn't even predict how he would react if John was to touch... his private parts. Actually, he didn't have any problems with them, but adding John as an unknown variable to the calculation and everything became intolerable imprecise.

"It's not like I have known right away." John`s hand squeezed Sherlock`s reassuringly. "We can just figure out together what we like and dislike, when it comes to it. It's part of being in a relationship."

One of John's most brilliant smiles was bestowed upon Sherlock and he felt all of his remaining insecurities and fears melting away at the sight. He still wasn't sure if this was going to work, but there was hope in Sherlock. Hope, born from John's acceptance and his unwavering friendship, from his nervous smile, while he waited for Sherlock's reply and from the way John licked his lips unconsciously as if yearning for Sherlock to kiss him. So, Sherlock did him the favor.

The first contact of their lips was brief and chaste, leading to a longer and sweeter kiss, from which they only parted, when breathing became an issue.

"I take that as a yes."

"Do as you wish," Sherlock muttered, even while he was leaning in for another kiss, which was granted to him by John happily.

That, Sherlock realized, while their lips moved against each other's, was the perfect end to his - otherwise miserable - day and the best part of it... it was only the beginning of John's and his time together.