"First Crush"

Sherlock Fanfiction

Johnlock

Sherlock's frown deepened as he stared at his computer, his fingers pointed in front of his mouth in his usual thinking pose. He had recently started to realize a problem that he didn't have the basis of knowledge to figure out, nor did he have the care to learn it. So, he had gone to the internet to try and understand the cause of his symptoms but instead, only found several sites that had nothing to do with his medical issues. There was only emotional drivel. He'll admit that that his symptoms were a bit specific but how was he supposed to get a clear answer if he didn't give all the information.

He supposed he could talk to John. His partner in crime (solving) was a doctor after all. A good one, at that… Still, Sherlock was hesitant. His symptoms tended to act up only around or when he thought of John. Perhaps he should talk to someone else to avoid upsetting his best, and only, friend. At least, he should hold back until he knew more.

Who did he know who he could discuss something like this with? Mycroft? He immediately disregarded that idea with a shudder. Yeah, no way that was happening. He would talk to Gavin - er, Greg, but that posed the risk of the Detective Inspector becoming so concerned about his health that he removes them from cases which would be actually worse than death for all who resided on Baker Street. Mrs. Hudson was useless in this matter as were his parents… Guess there was no other option.

"John!" He shouted. There was no response. "John!" He shouted again, louder this time. There was the sound of the shower turning off

"Jesus Christ! I'm coming Sherlock! Calm your tits!"

Sherlock smirked as he heard John tromp down the stair. "I don't have those, John, even you're not blind enough to believe that. Especially since those are things you pay quite a bit of attention to." He teased, turning to look as John came into the room with a towel wrapped around his waist. Leaving his everything else exposed to Sherlock's keen eyes.

Rather than going into immediate deductions, like one would expect with all the newly exposed data, he found himself riveted to a single drop of water as it slid down John's chest until it met with the towel and disappeared. Suddenly, Sherlock's symptoms intensified and he felt his cheeks grow warm.

"Alright, out with it mate. What did you need that was important enough to interrupt my shower? And I swear to all that is holy, if you tell me to grab something for you that is in this room I will surgically attach your ears to your ass so you can get an idea of what it's like to have to listen to your shit."

Sherlock grinned for a moment at that before launching into an explanation of his concerns. "No, John, ignoring the fact that what you just threatened is medically impossible, it's also unnecessary. I did not call you to grab something for me. I need your advice as a doctor. I believe I am ill."

Concern took over the ex-soldier's features and he immediately moved to stand in front of Sherlock. He gently pressed his palm against the raven-haired man's forehead. Sherlock knew, logically, that John was taking his temperature, but his symptoms exploded and his face warmed up all over again.

"Hmm… you're a little warm, but you're wearing 2 blankets so it's nothing to worry about, I don't think." He moved to sit on the edge of the couch, right near where Sherlock's legs were sprawled out. "What's wrong? Why do you think you're sick?"

Sherlock sighed as he started to list his symptoms. He tried to avoid admitting that John was often the cause of them. "I have noticed some symptoms over the past few months but they have been growing in intensity and frequency over time and have not gone away as I assumed they would. They are not life-threatening, and most of them aren't painful but they are… inconvenient." John nodded, patting Sherlock's leg, trying to comfort his friend. He'd seen patient behave this way before, and most often they were having difficulties that were of a more… private nature. (more like of a more PRIVATES nature! Bam. Humor) Sherlock shooed away his attention, as John expected him to, before continuing. "Ahem, I am having trouble controlling my own thoughts. They are scattered all over and I can't organize them. My chest ranges between clenched so tight I feel like I can't breathe and feeling so light that I can't focus on anything else. I keep getting these waves of blushing, though it's never due to embarrassment. My heart rate increases significantly whenever… um…" He paused. He was supposed to avoid saying who it was about.

John gave him a strange look. "Whenever what? Sherlock?"

Sherlock felt his face growing hot again. John looked cute when he was confused. Especially when he tilted his head like he was now. "Uhm… It seems the symptoms are most often tied to a singular person."

John felt a little idea tug at the corner of his brain. No way. The Sherlock Holmes had a crush, it seemed. A part of John found it hilarious and exciting, but another part of him felt a mounting sense of nausea and jealousy. "So, is there anything else that this person makes you feel? Butterflies in your stomach?" Sherlock look confused at the term so John further explained. "A weird fluttering feeling in your stomach, like little butterflies. It feels similar to being really nervous?"

Sherlock nodded. This was fantastic! It seemed John did know what was wrong with him. He should have gone to him in the first place. John was clearly far more intelligent than any of the idiots on the internet. "Do you think about this person a lot? Even when you're doing something that has nothing to do with them?" Sherlock nodded again. "Do you think this person is physically attractive?"

Sherlock paused. What did this question have to do with anything? He trusted John, sure, but that didn't stop him from disliking not knowing. Did he find John attractive? Objectively, he was good looking. He got plenty of woman. Somehow that didn't seem to be what John was asking, though. "Beauty is a construct based entirely on childhood impression, influences, and role models."

John smiled a little at the very Sherlock response. "Yeah, but surely you have an opinion on it. You have an opinion on everything."

Sherlock shrugged, "I suppose he fits conventional laws of attractiveness. And, of all the things to look at, he's far from the least pleasant thing to look at."

John nodded, filing away the "he" part. He should have guessed. Sherlock had said that "Girlfriends weren't his area" that first night at Angelo's. John opened his mouth to ask another question but Sherlock interrupted, fed up with the useless inquiries. Clearly John knew what was wrong, so there was no point in trying to dig any further.. "John, enough meaningless prattle, just tell me what's wrong with me so we can fix it and move on from this mess."

John smiled. It felt good to know something that Sherlock didn't for once. Was this how the detective felt all the time? No wonder he had such a big head. "There's nothing wrong with you Sherlock, you just have a crush on someone is all."

Sherlock looked confused. "A crush?"

John made a noise of exasperation. "Surely you can't actually be telling me that you've never had a crush on anyone in your whole life? Not even when you were younger?"

Sherlock shook his head. "I was too busy actually using my mind, unlike so many other children.

John rolled his eyes. "Of course you were. How silly of me to assume anything different."

Sarcasm laced his voice but Sherlock ignored it. "You're often silly, John, I've learned to live with it. Now, more importantly, how do I fix this?"

"There's not really much to fix, a crush isn't a bad thing…"

Sherlock groaned, "Of course it's a bad thing! I have other things to put my mind to! I can't have it constantly wandering to you and what you're doing, especially when I'm on a case or chasing a criminal through London! My thoughts need to be…"

But John had stopped listening to his friend's words as he tried to process that Sherlock Holmes, the Sherlock Holmes, had a crush on him. His face felt warm all of a sudden. Sherlock didn't even seem to realize as he continued his mind but John was now analyzing everything. It made sense that he was the one Sherlock was interested in, and it gave him a small thrill and a not so small rush of relief. He was Sherlock's closest friend. He felt a grin take over his face as he leaned in close to the ranting genius. The sudden closeness was enough to stop the rant mid word. John leaned ever closer until his lips met those of his Sherlock's.

Love you guys! Hope you enjoyed!