A/N: Yes, this is an AU that features demisexual!virgin!John (and homo!experienced!Sherlock). Because of this (remove spaces): brokendeathangel. deviantart. com/art/BlushieBlushieBlushie-297810116

And because this is a kink I didn't know I had. :'D

...Um, I think this will be a two- or three-shot story. I'll have to see what more comes to me tomorrow. But for right now? It's bedtime for me; it's nearly one AM.

At first, Sherlock didn't think much of it. John never showed any interest in dating women (or men, either, for that matter) and always shied away from people who tried flirting with him. Sherlock guessed it was because of a bad breakup or something of the like, something that put him off relationships for a while.

Sherlock, on the other hand, continually dated men as he always has, sticking with them for as long as it took before they couldn't handle his antics any longer or became too jealous of Sherlock's friendship with John and, inevitably, ended it. Sherlock never minded; he never fell in love with any of them, and only liked getting a good shag every now and then, if he could.

But as his boyfriends faded into near non-existence, Sherlock realised it was all because of John, really. John baffled him a little; he seemed to not even masturbate regularly, and it was a curious thing. Why didn't John get off with anyone, even for a one-night stand? It was rather normal for a bachelor his age if he didn't want anything too committed.

So, one night, Sherlock approached John while he was readying for bed, pyjamas on, bedside lamp dimly glowing, and a pillow in his hands as he fluffed it.

Habitually, Sherlock didn't knock as he entered, but the door was mostly ajar anyhow. He walked up to John, sat down beside him, and bluntly asked, "Why don't you go out on dates or wank regularly?"

John blinked. Pink tinted his cheeks and he looked away. "Why are Earth are you asking me that? And how is it any of your business?"

"We live together and are close friends. I should think it would be obvious that your sex life would interest me, and considering how open I am with my own, there's no reason why you can't do the same," Sherlock reasoned with a shrug. He peered down at John and cocked an eyebrow. "Well?"

John fumbled with the pillow and his blush increased noticeably. "It's not very important. Can I just go to bed, please? Sarah asked for a favor – for me to fill in for her at the hospital tomorrow – and I'd hate to fall asleep in my office again."

"Sarah. She's a perfect example, I should think. You have had multiple encounters with this woman and I'm sure by the flustered way you've talked about her in the past that she has implied her desires to be more than merely friends with you, but you have rejected her advances. Why? Is she unattractive?" Sherlock pried.

John huffed and pounded the pillow in his lap. "No! –Yes? Christ, I don't know. She's pretty, I suppose, but I just… don't feel about her that way. Or much of anyone I come across."

"And you don't masturbate often. I would know if you did," Sherlock added, and John flushed a deep scarlet.

"That's horrifying. But I guess you would be able to tell, wouldn't you? By overheard ragged breathing or something in my face, like my dilated pupils or flushed cheeks or something. Yeesh," John mumbled. He shook his head. "Is there a point to any of this? Because I would really like to go to bed, Sherlock." And to prove his point, he tossed his pillow against his headboard, watching it as it landed where he wanted it to.

"I just find it interesting, that's all. But does this mean you have never been with anyone, then? You've never found someone appealing enough to sleep with? Is your libido so weak that you have no cravings to touch even yourself?" Sherlock whispered, leaning closer to John.

The doctor blushed again and scowled. Shoving his flatmate away, he spat, "Piss off, Sherlock."

"Are you a virgin, John? Because if so, that's remarkable for someone in their late thirties. Very rare indeed. I should think I'd be envious of the first person you will ever give the permission to touch you that way," Sherlock admitted, and John couldn't hear a thing more without his face setting on fire.

"Yes! Okay? Yes, I'm a virgin! Are you satisfied now?" And he grabbed his pillow and chucked it at Sherlock's head, but the detective caught it reflexively. The detective was momentarily wide-eyed and faintly pink; he hadn't expected to receive the truth. "And quit saying rubbish like that!"

"Why? Is it not a good thing to say?" he pressed, but he knew the answer. It wasn't a very good thing to say. It definitely didn't sound like something a friend would say in comfort, and Sherlock wasn't entirely sure he meant it as such anyhow. He intended for it not to come out at all, but once it had, he couldn't very well take it back. And it was the truth, anyway. He would be jealous of anyone who deflowered John in any degree of the term. As of late, his boyfriends have all been much less appealing in comparison to his flatmate, and Sherlock would be lying if he said he wasn't interested in changing his type of relationship to John to something a tad more romantic.

"No! Not a good thing at all!" John said with a raised voice. "Now kindly get out of my room before I kick your ass out myself."

"I apologise, John," Sherlock murmured as he stood and moved to wrap his arms around his friend, sitting back down with John more or less in his lap, feeling frozen, stunned. "I didn't mean to offend you. Your virginity is yours to keep for as long as you like. Your sexuality – which appears to be asexual – is also yours to claim on your own terms. You're right; it was wrong of me to pry."

"You're just saying that because you don't want your only friend ticked off at you," John grunted as he sunk into Sherlock's embrace and sighed. "But I'll take the apology anyway. Thanks for that, even if you were a total prick about it."

"I meant what I just said, and I should think it redeems me," Sherlock smirked, his nose brushing the back of John's head, and he could smell his shampoo and natural body odor merging with it chemically. He loved John's scent. "But you know, John, if you ever were to… If you wanted, and if you felt more comfortable than with a stranger, I'm right here."

John scrunched up his face and hid behind Sherlock's arms. "Are you offering to sleep with me? Take away my virginity?"

"Don't think of it that way," Sherlock said with a wince. "Think of it as… an option. An option to expand your horizons. I would do that for you, if you wished it."

"You're basically telling me that you're the friend to experiment with if I so chose," John remarked with a snort. "Huh. Don't know what to say to that. People already assume we're a couple."

"And they aren't wrong. We are a pair that is often seen together as a package deal, one not often without the other; unless, of course, you are running errands or I am on a date, but that hasn't happened in a while. So they aren't wrong to assume that. And I am not the average person, so our friendship is not within the norm most people have in mind for friendships," Sherlock relayed matter-of-factly.

"Humph," was the doctor's only response. He couldn't think how to argue that when it was utterly spot-on. He sighed then and wormed his way out of Sherlock's arms. "Okay, that's it; I'm going to bed for real. Get out, you." And he waved him away without really looking at him.

Sherlock smiled. "All right, John. Goodnight." And before the doctor can stop him, Sherlock stood and leaned forward, pecking John on the lips. John stilled in place and didn't move until after Sherlock left.

And when he did move, he crawled into bed, rolled onto his side, and touched his mouth before pinching his legs together and stuffing his hand between them to quell the odd tingle that was sent from the action. He may not have interest in much of anyone, but Sherlock offering himself was an idea that left John's heart racing, and he couldn't say it wasn't without arousal, because then he would be fibbing.

Huh. If he wasn't careful, he might take Sherlock up on that offer and cease to be a virgin. But what John would like to know was: why was Sherlock so eager to suggest it, and why would John make an exception for Sherlock?

Oh, bother. These were things he'd rather not think about right before sleeping, because now he might not be able to sleep much at all, and he had to work tomorrow.

Dammit, Sherlock.