I had to. Sorry not sorry.

This was fun if not slightly awkward to write, since I'm keeping it platonic in my mind. But alas, a dance lesson fic for you to enjoy.

221B Bakerstreet should have been utterly silent upon Sherlock's arrival. The door had opened along with April's weather, rushing a cool breeze into the room before he had a chance to close the door. It took him less than three seconds of silence to hear a faint tapping on a keyboard coming from the room upstairs, and he froze halfway out of his longcoat. On the hangers, he could see John's bomber jacket on the hook. What was he doing here? Sherlock checked his phone for the time. It was pretty late in the evening for John to come, Mary might be wondering where he was.

He at first thought about entering his flat quietly, just to see what John was doing here without the ex-soldier knowing. Then again, there wasn't much reason for secrecy, and John probably already heard the front door when the detective entered. Sherlock ascended the stairs purposefully, listening with wonder as John stopped typing.

The detective entered the room and instantly found John at the desk, a cup of tea beside him and a youtube video playing on the computer. The man himself was slouched a bit, his head in his hands an his eyes glued to the laptop. Sherlock didn't stop at the door, and instead strode forward until he was beside his friend. Instantly, John lowered the laptop screen and gave Sherlock a look.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

John held this complextion, watching as Sherlock's eyes studied and deducted him. It's such a frequent habit that the detective most likely wasn't aware when he did it. So before the detective could spit any words out, John decided to save him the trouble. "I know, I know it's late. I just needed to look something up without Mary knowing."

"Keeping secrets before a wedding?" Sherlock asked, turning away as if he didn't care. He slid his shoes off and kicked them into the corner. He breathed a deep chuckle. "What would Mary say?"

"Yeah, well, I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell her." John watched him slowly, pushing the laptop head back up. "Because I'd rather her not know that I can't dance."

At that, Sherlock had straightened up and turned to face John. But the man had already turned back to the computer. "I mean, there are tutorials online, it's just..." He rested his head against his hand tiredly. "I just can't."

Sherlock was as still as a statue, a small smile creeping on his lips while John rubbed his face. "Actually, it's getting late, I should probably just go and worry about this later."

"No." Sherlock said before he could stop himself, feeling his heart jump as John turned to look at him questioningly. Sherlock opened his mouth to speak, and then swallowed back when he realized John didn't know. He never told him. Well this would certainly be interesting. He cleared his throat and looked over John's shoulder at the wall, pursing his lips in a thin line. "I... erm... know how to dance."

John blinked slowly, turned sideways in his chair. There was a pause, a beat, before John realized he was serious. "You do?" He asked, surprise clear in his voice.

Sherlock nodded, looking back at John with an even expression to save his dignity. Silence filled the atmosphere between them and Sherlock swallowed. And then, with hesitation, he opened his mouth to speak. But John spoke first, desperation in his voice. "Will you teach me?"

Sherlock smiled. Six minutes later, both their chairs and the desks moved to the side of the room, John was closing the curtains of 221B to save his own pride while Sherlock found a CD of music. As soon as he had pressed play, John turned around and frowned. "No, no music. We don't need music for this."

Sherlock paused before shutting it off, shrugging. "Alright." He said, putting the CD player away. "But you will have to dance in step with the music at the wedding." He reminded, to which John gave a curt nod.

When he returned to the room, Sherlock caught John moving about a bit nervously. "Relax, it's not that hard." Sherlock muttered upon entry, approaching his friend and holding his hands up. John turned to face him, his expression serious but... scared? Sherlock almost laughed aloud.

"Now, since you will be dancing with Mary, I will be the female of this dance so that you will aquire the male's role." He began, reaching for John's hand and holding it in his own, pulling their hands away from themselves.

John was being squirmish, but Sherlock reached for his other hand and guided it towards his hip. As soon as he did so, John pulled away. "No, I'm sorry, I can't. I can't do this."

Sherlock's hands flopped to his sides. "Come on, John. You want to be able to dance with Mary, don't you?" He coaxed.

John looked up at him, his arms crossed in front of him anxiously in silence. For a moment, he only stared back at his friend. And then he complied with a tiresome sigh, stepping back towards Sherlock and positioning himself once more. The detective placed his other hand on John's shoulder, feeling as his friend moved his hand from Sherlock's hip to higher up, towards his ribs. Whatever made him more comfortable.

"Now, as the male of this dance, you will have to lead."

"Lead?" John gaped at him. "I thought you were supposed to teach me, not put me in charge!"

"I will talk you through it for now." Sherlock assured him, recieving a sigh of frustration from his friend. "Just, take one step forward with your left foot."

"But your foot is there." John looked down at their feet.

"I will move as you do. The female follows the male, and as long as Mary knows how to dance as well, your feet will not touch."

John looked back up at him, his jawline firm with his teeth pressed against each other, and then moved his left foot forward. As soon as he did so, Sherlock's right foot moved backwards with his so that they ended up together. "Now move your right foot up to follow it." Sherlock said, and John did so. "Move your right foot to the right, and then bring your left up to follow."

For minutes to count, John's face was glued to the ground below as he watched their feet move in synch with each other. After a few movements, Sherlock spoke over the silence. "You can't look at the ground when you dance."

"Hmm? Oh." John looked up, looking to the side instead as he resisted the urge to watch where he was putting his feet. He didn't look Sherlock in the face, which quite frankly, was fine for the both of them. The detective thought about reminding him for later's sake, but then realized that probably wouldn't be a problem.

He did end up stepping on Sherlock's feet, twice, and Sherlock was surprisingly very patient with him. John chewed on his tongue, his mind wandering as he imagined Mary dancing with him. When he stepped on Sherlock's foot again, he was drawn out of his thoughts and his friend broke the silence with "Stop thinking."

John apologized, and Sherlock blinked down at him. Another step. Another movement. The ex-soldier was growing more confident with each stride. It wasn't as awkward as John had imagined, and he began to hold into memory the steps of the waltz. Now, he wished he had accepted the offer of music, for he was left to make up his own ryhtmn. Their footsteps were the only thing making sound, which lead him to flinch when Sherlock spoke. "Will you want to dip Mary?"

"Dip her?"

"In the dance."

"I... suppose?"

"Put your right arm around my waist."

John swallowed, stopping his movements and moving his right arm around his friend. Sherlock took the liberty of taking John's left hand and pulling it around him on the other side of him. "Now, you'll want to use both hands and lean forward with her. Watch where you place your weight so you don't fall." Sherlock said, watching as John began to sweat a bit. He almost chuckled had he not wanted John to feel even more embarassed, but began to lean back as John did so too. Lower, until Sherlock was held backwards with John bracing him.

He was about to pull the both of them back up when something caught the corner of his eye. "Mrs. Hudson!" John cried out with surprise, snatching his hands away from Sherlock and wincing as the detective hit the ground with a loud thud and a muffled "oomph!" John looked down with horror and the detective groaned. Mrs. Hudson, who stood in the doorway innocently, began to let out a roar of laughter. Using his elbows, Sherlock pulled himself up to a sitting position, rubbing the back of his head, expression tired. John straightened up and took a pace back, returning his eyes to the landlady in the doorway. "When- how long-?"

Mrs. Hudson laughed, putting a hand to her lips. "Oh, just a few minutes dear. I didn't see anything else."

John's hand came up to his face with a hiss of breath and he shook his head, while Sherlock turned from where he sat on the ground to look at Mrs. Hudson. "We weren't- we weren't doing anything else, Mrs. Hudson." John paced a bit, not meeting her eyes. "He was just teaching me how to dance for the wedding."

"Oh lovely." She clasped her hands, smiling wide. "I know how to dance a bit myself, it was always a joy of mine! Up until the incident with my hip and-"

Suddenly, Sherlock was up and closing the door, ushering Mrs. Hudson out of the way. She didn't get a chance to say anything before the door clicked shut. Sherlock pressed his back against the wall.

Both friends met each others eyes for several seconds. A knife could have cut the tension between them, following as John reached for his phone from the table. A quick glance at the time and he nodded to himself. "Actually I should probably get going. Mary might wonder where I am."

Sherlock, almost dissapointed that John had to go, wished they could carry on dancing. The detective hadn't danced in ages. But, he opened the door all the same as John approached to leave. "Thanks for the lesson." John said, drawing his attention once more with a small smile.

He was halfway down the stairs when Sherlock spoke again. "John."

"Yes?"

"Come by again tomorrow, we'll go again. You should be prepared to dance at your wedding, and not through the sake of tutorial videos."

Sherlock turned to look down the steps, meeting John's eyes for several seconds before both men began to laugh. The ex-soldier leaned against the railing with ease, eyes blinking back up to his friend. "Alright. We'll remember to lock the door next time, right?"

"Certainly." Sherlock grinned, and with that, John descended the steps of 221B and opened the door, stepping out into the April weather as it had just begun to rain.