When John came down the stairs a while later to leave, Sherlock was waiting by the door.

"You're not still cross, are you?" he asked in a bored voice.

Honestly, he was just a little, but inexplicably, he said, "No."

Sherlock looked unconvinced, but said nothing as he turned and went out the door and down the steps. They caught a cab and arrived at a very posh place that was definitely Mycroft's idea, because it certainly wasn't Greg's style.

John wasn't totally dreading lunch with the two of them, actually. He liked Greg a lot, and Mycroft was much more tolerable now that he'd gone and fallen in love. Still a little creepy and a lot overdramatic, but John was used to both of those traits in Sherlock anyhow.

"It's been a while, mate!" said Greg when Sherlock and John walked in the door. They hugged for a moment and John and Mycroft shook hands. Sherlock just nodded to Greg and glared at his brother. John sighed.

"Could you try to be civil?" John asked exhaustedly. "This was your idea."

"Technically, this was yours and Gale's idea and I just went along with it."

John pursed his lips and inhaled in irritation.

"It's Greg, Sherlock," said Greg.

"What's Greg?" asked Sherlock, looking around as if he might see a man named Greg. John was starting to feel like he had to be doing this on purpose.

"You're unbelievable," John said before the four of them were seated by a man whose coat probably cost more than one month's rent at 221B.

Mostly, Greg and John talked and the other two listened. Or pretended to listen, either way. John didn't mind, honestly. It was nice to just catch up with Greg, even with their strange significant others being awkwardly silent.

"So," Mycroft said after a very long time of speechlessness on his part, "I've been telling dear brother about Gregory's desire to go out for dinner for months and he's never done a thing about it. And now, suddenly, he responded. What, exactly, has changed?"

"I have a better question," Sherlock said before John could speak, turning to Greg. "Why did you even want to have dinner with us?"

"Because I thought maybe you'd admit that you're secretly together," Greg replied, no shame at all in his voice.

Again, John couldn't get in a word before Sherlock said, "Did you? And what makes you think that?"

"Because it's obvious?" asked Greg with a half-smile. "I'm not actually an idiot."

"Apparently you are, if that's what you think," Sherlock said.

John looked over to Sherlock. The whole reason he wanted to go on this 'date' at all was so that they could publically be together. It was utterly fucking ridiculous.

After a moment of silence, John said, "I need the loo."

He got up before anyone could say anything, or even look at him funny so he might deck them.

He had the room to himself, thankfully, so he looked in the mirror at his own angry face. Sherlock was really an idiot, considering him being a genius.

Something crossed John's mind. What Mama Isadora said about the invisibility potion.

I suspect it'll be funny for you, and will knock some sense into Sherlock.

The idea came to John in a second. Oh, yes, this was it. Perfect.

John took out the brown potion and drank a little, the way he saw Mama Isadora do it. As he looked at himself in the mirror, he vanished, and he laughed. This was so perfectly stupid. Like a prank a teenager would play.

Well, Sherlock was being a child himself, so he deserved it.

Just then, someone walked into the room. He didn't give John a glance.

"Hello," said John experimentally.

The man looked around in confusion, not once actually looking straight at John. He looked over to the stalls. John laughed, and the man kept looking around, a little fear in his eyes.

It definitely worked then.

John composed himself and went out the door.

This was going to be hilarious, he already knew.

And if this wouldn't knock some sense into Sherlock about romance in public, he didn't know what would.

"That was a bit not good," Lestrade told Sherlock, mimicking something he'd obviously seen between John and Sherlock before. Which didn't make Sherlock feel any fonder towards him in that moment.

"Why don't you do us all a favour and be quiet?" Sherlock snapped.

"Brother," Mycroft said, just barely sounding patient, "That's uncalled for."

Sherlock pursed his lips at his brother. "What, you're defending him?"

"Of course I am," Mycroft said with an eyebrow up. "Gregory is my partner."

Partner. It sounded almost as stupid as boyfriend to Sherlock. Which was part of the reason he didn't like the idea of an official relationship with John. All the names for such a union were idiotic. Mate. Lover. Significant other. All inane.

Why did what he had with John need to have a label? And why did anyone need to know about it? Sherlock's weakness in falling for John didn't need to be publicised, in Sherlock's opinion. He felt it, that didn't mean everyone needed to know it. Befriending him was bad enough. Now this? No, it was too embarrassing. Nobody would take him seriously.

Not that he would tell John that was the reason. John would be furious, he already knew. 'You said you weren't ashamed of me! Obviously this means you are!' is what he would say. It wasn't that he was ashamed of John; it was that he was ashamed of his feelings for John. Completely different.

Which reminded him, John had been gone longer than was usual for a trip to the toilet. He wasn't having more water than usual, and he wasn't due for a bowel movement, so what was he doing?

Mycroft also noticed. "I think you've angered John."

"He'll be fine."

"You could go talk to him," Lestrade suggested dryly, already knowing Sherlock would refuse. Because Lestrade already knew, Sherlock didn't bother to answer.

But then, quite out of nowhere, he felt the feather-light touch of a tongue running against his ear.

Oh, Sherlock had many a time cursed that during sexual endeavours, he was actually quite vocal, but not so much as he had in that moment, because a gasp that sounded alarmingly like a whine came out of his lips. It was quiet, but Mycroft heard. His eyebrow flicked up, and Sherlock just glared. Mycroft just rolled his eyes and turned to Lestrade, saying something. He took that moment to look around. He knew that tongue quite well, and he knew it was John's… but John wasn't here. Mycroft hadn't seen him. What on earth…

He didn't have long to consider it. In that moment when both men were occupied, a voice that was unmistakably John's spoke into his ear. "Do you have time for my 'idiocy' now?" he asked, his tone cold and sardonic.

Sherlock worked through it. John said he bought something from a magic shop and that it actually worked. Sherlock didn't believe it… and now John was here, but nowhere to be seen. Well, once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.

John found some sort of magic that actually worked and made him invisible.

And he was going to use it to get back at Sherlock for being, as John would say, 'a tit'.

He barely moved his lips as he said, "I don't suppose apologising would make you stop this before it starts."

"Oh, not a chance," John breathed in a way that gave Sherlock goose bumps.

Sherlock clearly felt John's hand as it settled firmly on his hip, and then slowly slid around to the front of his trousers, brushing against his until very recently flaccid penis. It was already responding to the sound of John's voice, to the few touches he'd already administered.

Sherlock bit his tongue to keep from reacting, but to his immense misfortune, the two turned to him, as if wanting to add him to the conversation. Sherlock couldn't hear what they were saying, though, because he found himself well and truly terrified by what he could tell John was doing.

He was crawling carefully under the table, spreading his legs apart to kneel between them.

"Oh, please, don't," Sherlock almost silently pleaded. But this time the other two were paying attention, so they heard.

"Don't tell you to apologise to John?" Lestrade asked as Sherlock's button and zip in his trousers were being undone. "You were being an arse."

"How was I being an—an arse?" he asked, the stammer caused by a strong hand seizing his erection to pull it out of his pants.

Mycroft gave another confused twitch of his eyebrow, but Lestrade, ever unobservant as he was, didn't notice.

"If I were John, I'd be cross too," said Lestrade. "Just admit it."

"Admit w-w-" He shut his eyes and was unable to speak for a moment when John's mouth closed around him. This wasn't happening. If Sherlock ever had nightmares, he'd be convinced this was one. "Admit what?" said Sherlock firmly, reaching his hand under the table to painfully grab John's scalp, but that only made him chuckle silently around him, and the vibrations made him just barely shudder.

"Erm… Sherlock, you alright?" asked Lestrade.

Sherlock had to think fast to explain that one. Good thing thinking fast was his forte. Sherlock rubbed under his nose. "Do you ever get that feeling that you have to sneeze, but it doesn't happen?"

Mycroft looked unconvinced, but Lestrade laughed a little. "Yeah, hate that. Anyway," he added more seriously, "Sherlock, everyone knows about you and John."

Sherlock wanted to say something, but John was doing something absolutely exquisite with his tongue and the only way to keep from reacting was to refrain from speaking and just glare at Lestrade.

Lestrade continued when he realised Sherlock wasn't going to speak. "What've you got against telling people, anyway? Nobody cares, Sherlock. It doesn't make you less clever or less credible."

It was amazingly observant of Lestrade to realise that was Sherlock's whole argument against it.

"In fact," Lestrade said, "People like you more with John around, you know that. You get more business than ever. The only one who thinks you have to be stoic to be successful is you."

"Even I have decided I was incorrect on that point," Mycroft added.

John was moving faster, and Sherlock knew his breathing had increased. His effort to keep from reacting was making a thin sheen of sweat appear on his brow. He was grabbing John's hair now not in warning that he needed to stop, but just in the need to grip something. If anything, the fact that he could be caught at any moment was making it more pleasurable.

He apparently had an exhibitionist streak that he'd never noticed. Maybe that was why he never liked to lock the door when he and John fucked on the couch, fast and hard with John's hands bruising his sides, grunting Sherlock's own name to the air like a prayer—

No, Sherlock, he chided himself, don't start thinking about that. It'll only make it worse.

Sherlock officially had to say something. "Y-Yes maybe you're right about that. I should probably see if… if Joohhn's… okay."

Now they were both looking at him like he was utterly mad, but he couldn't stand sitting here any longer. As he spoke, he shoved John's face away, not caring anymore if his body knocked into Mycroft, and shoved himself back into his pants, zipping his trousers and standing. He walked angrily towards the toilet, and halfway there, John took his hand. Sherlock went inside and was only slightly disappointed when John shut and locked the door. Before Sherlock could speak, John was visible again with a bottle to his lips. John was smiling.

"I know you're probably angry, but that was—" John was able to say before Sherlock surged forward, slamming John against the wall and kissing him hard. He was already gripping at his jeans, shoving them down his thighs.

"I need you to fuck me. Now," said Sherlock.

John obviously enjoyed Sherlock's punishment as much as Sherlock had, because his pupils were completely dilated and he was fully hard.

"One condition," John said.

Sherlock groaned. "No, now, John!" he complained like a child.

"You're going to tell the two of them we're together."

Fine, fine, whatever had to be done to get John inside him right this instant. "Fine, they can know, but can't you do it?" Sherlock asked distastefully.

"If I do it, I'm going to tell them we just fucked in the loo."

Sherlock glared, but he needed John, so he said, "Okay, fine." He walked over to the counter and leaned over it. "Just fuck me."

John grinned evilly and walked over, yanking down Sherlock's trousers brutishly, not bothering with the button this time.

Sherlock was only barely surprised when John had lubricant with him. Probably he'd, to a point, planned all this. Sherlock wouldn't have cared if he hadn't had it at this point. A few day's pain would've been worth it. They weren't even using a condom—which was dangerous, because of sexually transmitted diseases, but Sherlock couldn't bring himself to care, not right now.

John didn't prepare him for more than ten seconds before he just pushed inside. Sherlock bit his knuckle to stay silent.

"You're good at being quiet," John grunted as he thrust with agonising slowness. "I was impressed."

"Faster," Sherlock commanded.

"I'm still cross with you. I don't know if you deserve it."

Sherlock whined. "Please, John."

John always liked please, so Sherlock was prepared when, a moment later, the onslaught became merciless, definitely somewhere in the gray area between pain and pleasure. It was perfect.

They both finished quickly with this pace, and with the urgency of being in a public place. Then they had to clean up Sherlock's mess from the floor.

John laughed when he got a good look at Sherlock.

"You look so well-fucked right now."

Sherlock glared.

John came forward and grinded his crotch against Sherlock's. "Hey, I like it," he said. "You ready to be public?"

Sherlock sighed. "Yes, I suppose so."

John smiled. "It's nice to win for once."

Sherlock just rolled his eyes, but really, it's not like he'd lost because John had won. Sherlock had John, which was the best thing he could think of. Privately, he thought this was a pretty good deal. He'd never say so out loud, but the one last glance John gave Sherlock as they walked out of the toilet showed John he didn't need to say anything. John already knew. He always knew.

So as they walked to the table, he took John's hand, and John grinned with literal joy in his eyes at the public display of affection.

Yes, Sherlock definitely hadn't lost a thing in this deal.

Thanks for reading! Please review!