Take Me

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my imagination.

A/N: Please ignore grammatical errors and punctuation and such... Thanks! Enjoy.

It started out as a sort of game. How far could he go? How close could he get? How childish could he be? He even did it without being aware of the fact that he was gently pushing the envelope. John was so defenseless when it came to Sherlock. The detective soon found that he could get away with practically anything when it came to John. The easy-going doctor simply smiled when Sherlock leaned against him unnecesarily, grabbed his hand, invaded his personal space... No matter how much he teased the older man, nothing changed. It was comfortable. Sherlock had never had a friend before, let alone someone like John. Sometimes it was frustrating that John didn't react at all.

Too defenceless. Too... ignorant. Sherlock frowned.

The two friends were enjoying some downtime on the couch. John sat on one end of the couch engrossed in a randomly selected book. Sherlock lay on the couch with his feet resting on the other man's lap. John held the book in his left hand, his right hand absentmindedly resting on on Sherlock's shin. The detective snapped out of his thoughts, his eyes searching the other man's face. John looked completely focused on his book, most likely unaware that he had begun to lightly caress Sherlock's leg. He couldn't decide whether he wanted to call the other man out on it or not. He was curious how John would respond, but he didn't want the sensation to go away.

"What?" John asked, breaking Sherlock's train of thought. When Sherlock only stared at the other man with his mouth slightly ajaw John looked away from his book to frown slightly at his friend. "Why are you staring at me so intensely?"

"I was trying to decide whether or not to bring it to your attention that you have been petting me." Sherlock answered honestly.

John looked down at his hand on his friend's leg and shrugged.

"Nothing new there. Was it bothering you?" John asked. They searched each other's face for a moment. Sherlock shook his head slightly in response and John turned his attention back to his book.

Sherlock took a moment to try to decide what he should do next. Did he give up on this game of his? No, no he couldn't possibly do that. He had gotten too used to these moments with John. The comfort. He had never really been interested in physical contact with another person before, but now that he had gained such a close relationship with someone he didn't want to lose it. No, not someone. John. What was it about this man, this doctor, that changed everything? His kind honest eyes, his hesitant smile, his loyalty, his trust, his warmth... just to name a few. There was no one quite like John Watson. Especially not for Sherlock. John was just so... accepting. Of everything. When others would run away from Sherlock's rampages, John would stick it out and help him make it through. When others would dismiss him and call him names, John applauded him.

If Sherlock was completely honest with himself, he would say that the main appeal to John was that he wasn't afraid to speak his mind. When others had been jealous or annoyed by Sherlock's brilliant mind- John had been awed. John had complimented him, praised him, encouraged him. Many times. The detective found that what he had thought of as a game had gone beyond that. He wanted to see how the other man would respond, true. But what was his real motivation? Did he really need an excuse-to himself- to be close to John? The doctor didn't seem to mind the touching, so maybe Sherlock had read him wrong. No, that was impossible. John had definitly shied away from others before. He could distinctly remember the man appologising to others with "Sorry, I don't like to be touched". Sherlock decided that perhaps John was only putting up with his antics. Maybe there was a point where John would tell him he'd gone too far. He considered his options and weighed the outcomes.

"John?" The man in question raised his eyebrows before tearing himself away from his book to look questioningly at his best friend.

"Yes?"

"I'm uncomfortable. I need a pillow." Sherlock requested. John sighed.

"Well the couch pillows are gone. You know that." John accused. Sherlock did know that, being the one who had stabbed them with a knife and tore them apart.

"Yes, I know." Sherlock snapped. He pouted and turned his face away.

"Alright, come on then." John said. He held his arm out invitingly. Was he really suggesting that Sherlock use his lap as a pillow? Sherlock became aware of the feelings of shock on his own face and managed to regain his composure.

"Well if you're offering..." He said.

"Why are you so content to lounge on the couch all afternoon anyway?" John asked as Sherlock re-situated himself.

"I'm tired. My head hurts. I don't want to do anything else." Sherlock pouted. John smiled, looking down at the other man's head now in his lap.

"I never thought you would say anything like that." John said. Concern began to show on his face. "Is everything alright?"

"Fine, fine. Just let me... lounge, as you call it." Sherlock said dismissively. He rolled over onto his side, facing away from John.

"If there's anything bothering you, you can tell me." John offered. He lightly touched Sherlock's temple, brushing a curl back from the corner of the other man's eye. Sherlock closed his eyes at this and failed to hide a slight smile. John took the smile as consent and drew small gentle circles atop his temple. The gentle sensation gave Sherlock goosebumps, his breathing slowing slightly so he could focus more of his attention to this wonderful feeling. This was definitely the best decision.

John may be way too accepting of Sherlock, but that was okay. No one else was allowed to get this close. No one else was allowed to touch him. Only John.

Of course he couldn't read anymore. Not now. Sherlock had fallen asleep almost immediately after John had begun caressing him. The world's only consulting detective now lay defenseless and carefree with his head atop his best friend's lap. John stared down at the other man, wondering what could be bothering him so much. Did Sherlock seek comfort? Was that what this was about? John lightly caressed the other man's face, thinking back to all the expressions he had seen this man show. They were all intriguing. The others had complained about the detective being monotone, unapproachable, emotionless. They were confused by Sherlock's gentle smile- directed at John of course. They would never believe how giddy this man could get. True he would become giddy over bizarre things, but what did that matter? Sherlock put on a show, hid himself away, refused to show any vulnerability to everyone except John.

John knew everything about Sherlock. He knew the real Sherlock. The childish, needy, sometimes clumsy, beautiful genius. That was his Sherlock. How could anyone look at this man with anything but wonder? He was truly amazing. John felt protective over this fascinating man. He wanted to treasure him as no one else had, give him the support he needed. He even let the other man get close to him, touch him. Not even girlfriends had been able to get away with as much as Sherlock could. The man could pretty much get away with anything and everything. Maybe... maybe he was spoiling the younger man too much? Or perhaps he was only being used by the detective. When one of them eventually got a girlfriend who would be affected the most? Sherlock had been very unhappy with John's previous girlfriends. He had appeared to be practically jealous. Speaking of which, every time John saw Sherlock getting too friendly with a woman he felt a burning jealousy. He wanted to monopolise the detective. That dizzying smile was supposed to be for him alone...

Sherlock made a small noise in his sleep, shaking John from his thoughts. This relationship wasn't normal. It couldn't be healthy, not in the long run. The thought of Sherlock falling in love with someone made him feel sick. He was fairly certain he wouldn't be able to take it. The women were obviously fans of the gorgeous detective. If Sherlock decided to give in to one of the women vying for his attention would they be able to accept all of him? Or would he change for them? Everyone had said that Sherlock changed when he started hanging out with John, what if it was worse with a girlfriend? What if this strange jealousy wasn't all he had to worry about... He could risk losing a friend. The thought of losing his Sherlock was the most depressing, the most maddening.

Perhaps though, if John found someone first it wouldn't hurt so bad. If he could find that special someone for himself, he could draw the line with Sherlock. He could reel those strange feelings back in, tell himself that his girlfriend was the only one he could be this close to. Sherlock would grow up, get over this and find himself a girl eventually. Or remain alone if that's what he truly desired. But if he wanted to be friends with John he needed to be more accepting of John's girlfriend. Sherlock frowned and rolled onto his back to look up at John.

"You're thinking too loud." The detective said sleepily.

"I don't suppose you've mastered reading minds yet?" John asked, only half-joking.

"Not yet. Care to share?" Sherlock seemed grumpy. He was practically pouting because he didn't know what John was thinking. How cute.

"Too complicated." John told him. "Come on, get up. We've laid about far too much."

"But I'm comfortable." Sherlock pouted.

"I'm not your pillow, Sherlock. Save this sort of thing for your girlfriend." John said.

"I don't have a girlfriend." Sherlock looked confused and disgusted.

"Yet. You should find one. You've been really touchy lately, looks like you've mellowed out enough to be able to put up with someone being close-"

"No. Not someone, John. You. Don't talk nonsense." Sherlock sat up, leaving the warmth of John's lap. Why was his heart speeding up?

"Sherlock..."

"Wait." Sherlock put a hand to his forehead, heart and mind racing. A growing presence on his chest. "You're trying to get rid of me."

"What? No. It's.. it's nothing like that." John watched the other man stand and look down at him.

"You are lying... I... I annoyed you. I knew I should've stopped. I went too far and now-"

"Sherlock, stop. I'm not upset with you or anything. I just think it's weird for two guys to be as close as we are. We... we should both try to find a girlfriend, be normal." John sputtered.

"I... don't.. I don't want a bloody girlfriend John." Sherlock growled.

"Well.. I do and I think it would be good for you-"

"YOU are good for me. I don't want to be with anyone else."

"Listen to yourself Sherlock. That sounds..."

"What? It sounds as though I value you more than anyone else in the world? Don't be stupid John, for me...For me there is no one-" The phone began to ring. John moved to answer it.

"Don't answer the phone!" Sherlock yelled incredulously.

"It's Lestrade." John announced, looking at the caller i.d. Sherlock took a deep breath and looked up to the ceiling. He reached out for the phone.

"What?! Make it quick." He answered. After a moment he agreed to meet up at a crime scene and hung up. "Where was I? Oh. John-!"

"No, Sherlock. You're my best friend, I'll always care about you. But you need to find your special someone. I feel like you maybe think it's me, but you're wrong. Friends... it's nowhere near the same. You're closing yourself off, refusing to fall in love..." John argued.

"Refusing to..." Sherlock stared at his friend with eyes full of pain. He tore his eyes way from the other man and stormed off to go get dressed.

John stared after his friend for a moment, confused about what had just happened. Why had Sherlock looked so hurt? Maybe there was some emotional trauma in Sherlock's past that John didn't know about. He tried to think back if Sherlock had mentioned any such thing. According to Sherlock he was incapable of loving anyone. Knowing how Sherlock was when he got in a bad mood, John decided to quickly get ready to go before the other man simply left him.

Sherlock put both hands over his face and groaned. He had been foolish to play this game with John. He had only managed to push the other man away. The thought of being interested in another man- of a man being interested in him was too much for John. He clearly refused to accept such a thing. Sherlock had been rejected, shut out, pushed away. Because he was a man. It had never even crossed his mind that something like this would happen. What did it matter if John was a man? Sherlock had never been interested in either sex, so he couldn't claim to be gay or straight. Possibly asexual. Ever since he'd become close to John he'd realised if nothing else he was Johnsexual. Not that it really had much to do with sex. More than physical, it was beyond even emotional. Everything in him wanted to be with John, belonged with John. As for the good doctor... he didn't feel the same, not in the slightest.

A/N: I'm ending it at a pretty upsetting point for today. Try not to hate me. Thank you for reading my story. Reviews are encouraged. ^_^

~BellaRyuu~