Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1958814.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Sherlock_(TV), Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Sherlock_Holmes/John_Watson
  Character:
      Sherlock_Holmes, John_Watson
  Additional Tags:
      Potterlock, Teenlock, First_Time, Oral_Sex, Frottage, technically
      underage_since_they're_6th_and_5th_years, exchangelock
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-07-15 Words: 2934
****** Yule Ball Bangin' ******
by favabean05
Summary
     When Sherlock questions John's interest in their relationship in the
     lead up to the Yule Ball, John knows he has to reassure him or risk
     losing Sherlock forever.
Notes
     This was written for bumblebeesandsussex in the ExchangeLock gift
     exchange :) I hope you like it! (also I'm suuuper sorry this is late)
“John…”
“Mm, Sherlock,” John groaned softly, tugging Sherlock’s blue tie to kiss him
slowly. He was pressed against the cupboard door of an empty classroom, white
shirt pulled from his trousers, pressing against his boyfriends hips as lips
and teeth trailed down his throat. “Oh hell…”
Sherlock sighed and nipped the hollow of his throat. “You had three people ask
you to that bloody Yule Ball today…”
“Don’t deduce me while seducing me,” John gasped, his head falling back against
the cabinet.
“Two girls and...oh, I will murder that McGregor boy,” Sherlock growled against
his skin.
John whimpered and pulled Sherlock up to kiss him slowly. “I told them no.”
“Obviously. You already have a date.”
John huffed a breathless laugh. “Yeah? Who is that?”
Sherlock pushed back a bit to look John in the eye. “You’re joking.”
“You’re joking,” John blinked. “You...wait, you want to go?”
Something darkened briefly in Sherlock’s eyes and he dropped his hands. “Again.
Obvious. Don’t you…?”
John tugged on his bottom lip, feeling a flip in his belly. He and Sherlock had
been best friends since Sherlock’s first year when he was placed in John’s
second-year Transfiguration class - the first time a first-year was placed in
higher level classes. Friendship shifted to romance just before summer break
last year - John’s sixth year, and Sherlock’s fifth. So far, they’d been
inconspicuous. No affection in classes, stealing moments like these in empty
classrooms. Neither wanted anyone else to know, wanting to keep themselves in
the happy, new-relationship bubble for as long as possible.
“I…” John faltered, biting his lip. “I didn’t p-plan to.”
Sherlock blinked. “Why?”
“Because I thought...I mean, we haven’t told anyone…”
“And what better time to do that than at the Ball?” Sherlock crossed his arms.
“Aren’t you tired of this? Snogging in empty classrooms because you don’t want
your friends to see you’re with me.”
John’s jaw dropped. “That’s not why at all! You know me better than that. My
friends are your friends too.”
“Are they?” Sherlock snapped and sighed.
“Sherlock,” John said softly, reaching for his hand. “If you want to go to the
Ball, we’ll go.”
“No,” Sherlock said, pulling his hand away and tucking his shirt back in. “If
you want to go. We will go. If you want to be seen with me.”
John’s chest tightened. “Sherlock...love, it’s not that I don’t…”
“Fine,” Sherlock said curtly, straightening his tie. “Consider the matter
dropped.” He looked up at John, coldness in his eyes. “Clean yourself up. You
have Defense Against the Dark Arts in twenty minutes.”
And with that, Sherlock left the room and John felt ill.
--
The next three days were met with cold ambivalence. John would walk over to
Sherlock and he would immediately turn away. Any glances during classes John
threw his way were not reciprocated. John’s stomach was constantly uneasy, his
blood pounded in his ears, and he was overwhelmed with the deep understanding
that he had fucked up. Badly.
The evening of the third night, John trekked the familiar path past his common
room at the kitchens toward the Ravenclaw common room on the fifth floor. The
door knocker had gotten used to the older Hufflepuff boy answering his riddles,
knowing of the friendship shared between Sherlock and him. John needed to talk
to Sherlock. Needed to reassure him. He needed Sherlock to just look at him.
“You are not allowed here,” the knocker spoke, freezing John in his place ten
yards from the entrance.
“What?” John choked, his mouth dry.
“I have been instructed to keep you from entering the common room.”
“By Sherlock?”
A pause. “Yes.”
John’s heart fell to his feet and he stared at the knocker, dumb with shock. He
opened his mouth to speak but faltered, closing his mouth again. He turned on
his heel and did the only thing he could think to do. He headed for the Owlery.
--
At breakfast the next morning, John could barely eat. He pushed his eggs around
his plate, trying not to obviously stare at Sherlock as he sat alone at the
Ravenclaw table. Even when Mike and Greg sat down on either side of him,
chatting happily, John’s stomach flipped at the first sound of owl wings heard
above him. As owl after owl swooped into the Great Hall, John suddenly wondered
if he was about to fuck up even worse. Was this a bad idea? Should he have done
something less...demonstrative? His eyes caught sight of his tawny barn owl
with a glint of red and closed his eyes. There was no going back now.
Sherlock stared at his bowl of porridge, spoon untouched despite his rumbling
stomach. He hadn’t slept in days, barely been able to focus on his class work.
Is this what it felt like? To allow emotions to cloud the mind the way
Sherlock’s has his own?
He jumped as an owl landed in front of him, dropping a crimson envelope on the
table beside the bowl. Sherlock stared at it and sighed. “Great…” He barely had
time to noticed that handwriting on the front was not that of his mother’s
before he opened the envelope and it exploded in his hands. John’s voice rang
through the Great Hall as everyone went silent.
SHERLOCK HOLMES, I AM A GIANT TWAT. I AM SO HONORED I GET TO CALL YOUR
BEAUTIFUL, BRILLIANT SELF MY BOYFRIEND. I AM SO SORRY I MADE YOU THINK
OTHERWISE. IF YOU ARE WILLING TO FORGIVE ME, I HAVE TO ASK YOU SOMETHING VERY
IMPORTANT. WILL YOU GO TO THE YULE BALL WITH ME?
The echos of John’s voice bounced off the walls as the Howler burst into
flames, the fiery ashes falling into Sherlock’s cold porridge. John sat frozen
in his seat with his eyes locked onto Sherlock’s back, his face bright red and
flushed hot. Mike and Greg were staring at him, a grin pulling on Greg’s mouth
as he glanced between John and Sherlock across the room.
Sherlock stared at the embers in his breakfast and felt a roaring in his ears.
People were staring at him. He didn’t care if they did. Sherlock took a deep
breath and slowly turned in his seat back to where John was sitting. Their eyes
met, and John was smiling. He was smiling, this was genuine, he meant it. He
meant it? Sherlock blinked and read John’s face and posture. Scared. Nervous.
Contrite. Honest. Honest.
He stood from his seat and walked straight over to the Hufflepuff table. John
scrambled to his feet and before the seventh year could open his mouth,
Sherlock pulled him across the table and kissed him. The Great Hall erupted in
cheers, Greg yelled something to Mike about owing him five galleons, but
neither boy noticed.
“I’m sorry,” John said as they parted.
“Yes I will, you prat,” Sherlock grinned.
--
The ball was incredible. John and Sherlock were never more than five feet apart
the whole evening, and when together, they were always touching. Holding hands,
holding waists, kissing at the drinks bar, then slipping out of the party to
continue out on the grounds. John smiled and tugged Sherlock close by the lapel
of his dress robes, kissing him slowly.
“Thank you for coming with me,” John whispered, resting his forehead against
Sherlock’s.
“Thank you for wanting me to.”
John sighed softly. “I’m sorry…”
“Don’t,” Sherlock cupped his chin and kissed him slowly, threading his fingers
up into his sandy hair. “All is forgiven.”
John took Sherlock’s hand and smiled, leaning up to kiss him again. He
whimpered softly when Sherlock deepened it, feeling his hands fist his dress
robes and pull him closer against his chest. John wrapped his arms around
Sherlock’s neck and sighed, nibbling Sherlock’s bottom lip - a move he had just
discovered had an immense effect on his boyfriend. Sherlock moaned and broke
the kiss, panting softly.
“May we...may we spend the night together?” he asked hesitantly, meeting John’s
eyes.
John blinked and smiled, cupping Sherlock’s neck gently. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Sherlock nodded and smiled. “I’m ready to have you tonight.”
John’s stomach flipped, and his cheeks warmed, but he grinned wide. He kissed
Sherlock firmly. “Your room? My common room is too noisy.”
“Let’s get out of here.”
--
“Give me ten minutes,” Sherlock said, lips brushing against John’s in a brief
kiss. “Then come in.”
John sighed, wrapping his arms around Sherlock’s waist and holding him close.
“I don’t know if I can wait.”
“You can,” Sherlock smiled. He drew away from John and smiled, nervous energy
radiating off of his body. “Ten minutes.”
John smiled and nodded, watching as Sherlock turned and walked to the entrance
of the Ravenclaw common room. He heard statue give the riddle and Sherlock’s
baritone reply, but John couldn’t register either as the gravity of the evening
fell on him. Years. They’d danced around each other for years, and now finally
- finally - they were...they were…
“Oh my god,” John muttered to himself, feeling his nerves shaking him. A happy
grin split his face and he huffed a laugh. He brought a hand up to smooth his
hair, wind blown from their time spent outside of the ball. He smoothed down
the front of his black dress robes, then surreptitiously breathed into his palm
to check his breath. He was beginning to wonder if he should trim his nails
when a soft voice grabbed his attention.
“Watson?” the Ravenclaw knocker called gently. “I believe it has been ten
minutes.”
“Ah,” John blushed and smiled, walking toward the entrance. He wiped his sweaty
palms on his thighs as he approached. “Right. Er, thank you.”
“With thieves I consort, With the vilest, in short, I'm quite at ease in
depravity; Yet all divines use me, And savants can't lose me, For I am the
center of gravity…” The statue said.
“Er…” John faltered, still quivering with nerves. “I...bloody hell, I….” John
was usually very good at getting the Ravenclaw entrance riddles. He’d been able
to get into his boyfriend’s common room for years, why wasn’t he able to
tonight?
The eagle doorknocker laughed softly then whispered. “What letter comes before
the first in your last name?”
John blinked then blushed, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. “...V.”
The entryway was revealed before him and John grinned. “Thanks,” he said.
“Have a good evening Mr. Watson,” the eagle said, closing the door behind him.
John walked through the common room, stepping around the first through third
years who were unable to attend the Yule Ball but took the evening to study.
Seeing the older Hufflepuff was a common occurrence, even if they hadn’t had
their noses in their books, his presence would be unmentioned. John quickly
found the stairs and scaled them two by two to the boys sixth year dormitory.
He slowly pushed open the thick, wooden door, feeling the nerves kick up in
force.
“Sherlock?” he whispered softly then smiled when he spotted his boyfriend,
nervously closing and smoothing the drapes on his poster bed.
Sherlock turned and smiled. “Hi.”
“Hi,” John laughed softly, walking over toward him. “The statue took pity on
me.”
“Hmm?” Sherlock said, reaching out to hold John’s waist with a smile. “What do
you mean?”
“I was so nervous, I couldn’t answer the riddle. He fed me the answer.” John
blushed and held Sherlock’s hips. “First time in years I couldn’t get it.”
Sherlock smiled and chuckled softly. “Well I imagine you had other things on
your mind.”
John blushed deeper, reaching up to cup Sherlock’s cheek as he leaned down to
kiss him slowly. Hands slid across his shoulder blades and John sighed softly,
gently nipping Sherlock’s bottom lip. “I did, in fact,” he murmured softly.
“I’ll lock the door.”
“No need,” Sherlock said, pulling away from John and smiled, drawing his wand
from the sleeve of his dress robes. “Protego Totalum”, he murmured, raising his
wand. The air shimmered along the dormitory walls, and John beamed.
“Clever, you,” John chuckled softly, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth.
“Just wait,” Sherlock smiled and sauntered back toward him. He pointed his wand
at the dormitory door as he slid his arm around John’s waist. “Muffliato.”
John laughed and held his waist. “So no one will see us or hear us…”
“Precisely,” Sherlock smiled, turning to face John. “We’ve certainly waited
long enough. Hate to be interrupted.”
John looked up into Sherlock’s eyes and felt a shiver run through him. Every
touch, every kiss, every stolen moment in empty classrooms and the Room of
Requirement, was another coal thrown on the slow burn in the pit of his gut.
The heat rose through him as he lifted onto his toes, threading his fingers
into Sherlock’s curls and pressing his lips to his with full intent. Sherlock
melted against him and John pressed closer, licking Sherlock’s bottom lip as he
heard the slide of drapery. The younger man whimpered and pulled them backward,
and they barely parted as they climbed onto the mattress.
Sherlock pulled the curtain to and held John’s face, smoothing his thumb across
his cheek. “John…”
“Hmm?” the older boy smiled, pushing back a black errant curl from Sherlock’s
forehead.
“I…” Sherlock’s voice faltered and his eyes dropped. “John, I…”
John smiled warmly and tipped Sherlock’s chin up, leaning in to kiss him softly
and sweetly. “I know,” he said gently as they parted. “I do too…”
Sherlock’s face split in a wide grin, slumping a little in relief and sinking
in to another kiss. John huffed a relieved laugh himself and pushed into the
kiss, slowly pressing Sherlock back along the bed. He settled his weight and
sighed as Sherlock’s hands were already grabbing and pulling up his dress
robes.
“Slow down, love,” John whispered and smiled, kissing his forehead. “We’ve got
all night…”
“Please,” Sherlock sighed, pulling his robes again. “We have all night, yes.
For more. I’ve waited too long for you. Please John.”
John’s stomach flipped at the desperation in Sherlock’s voice and he nodded,
kissing Sherlock slowly. “Okay...okay…”
The only sounds between them were the rustling of fabric, their soft sighs, and
their slow, wet kisses that were quickly becoming heated. John smiled up at
Sherlock, kissing his now bare chest. The younger man squirmed, arching his
back to press against John’s mouth.
“Ah-ah…” Sherlock gasped as John’s lips closed around a nipple, his tongue
rolling and flicking against the hardened nub. “John, please…”
“Oh I could get used to hearing you like this,” John grinned, kissing down his
stomach. He glanced up at Sherlock and hooking his fingers under the waistband
of his pants. “Are you ready?”
Sherlock panted and nodded, running his fingers through John’s hair. “Yes.
Please…”
John nodded and slowly pulled down Sherlock’s pants with a long sigh. “Oh,
Sherlock. Hello, beautiful…” He took Sherlock’s erection in hand and stroked
slowly. Sherlock whimpered softly and sighed, his eyes sliding closed.
“Sherlock…”
He dipped down to slowly lick over the tip of Sherlock’s cock, a moan escaping
his lips before taking the tip in his mouth. He sighed through his nose and
sucked gently, pressing his tongue along the hot flesh as he slowly bobbed his
head. Sherlock gasped and tangled a hand in John’s sandy hair, his other
forearm thrown over his eyes.
“J-John…” he whimpered and gasped as he sank farther into the beautiful wet
warmth of his boyfriend’s mouth. “Oh Merlin…”
John chuckled around him and worked his jaw, bobbing his head faster. He slid
his hand down to gently cup his testicles, moaning as Sherlock cried out and
tugged his hair. John slid his hand up the bed and pried Sherlock’s from the
bedclothes and held it tight.
Sherlock’s hips rocked up and he moaned. “John...oh Merlin, John, I’m...I’m…”
“Mmm,” John hollowed his cheeked and bobbed quickly, humming softly.
“John! John, I--” Sherlock gasped and squeezed John’s hand, shaking as he came.
“Oh...oh John…”
John moaned and swallowed down as much as he could, a small bead dribbling down
his chin as he pulled off. “Sherlock,” he sighed, smiling and leaning up to
kiss him slowly. “God, you’re beautiful…”
Sherlock cupped his neck and kissed him back, panting hard against his mouth.
“John...John…” He pulled John’s hips down against his, rocking his own
sensitive erection up against John’s hip.
“Oh…” John whimpered and rocked his hips against Sherlock. “Oh my god, you’re
beautiful.”
“Let go, love,” Sherlock sighed, kissing him and rocking up. “I've got you.”
John pressed his face to the juncture of Sherlock’s neck, panting against his
skin as he thrust against his hip. “Sherlock, ah…” He gasped sharply and froze,
moaning as he spilled between them. “Oh god…”
Sherlock groaned softly and held him to his chest, tipping his chin up and
kissing John slowly. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” John breathed, smiling wide. A laugh bubbled up from his
chest and he kissed Sherlock again. “So...still afraid I’m ashamed of you?”
“Oh John,” Sherlock sighed and cupped his cheek, shaking his head. “I’m sorry I
ever said that.”
John smiled and kissed the inside of his wrist. “No, it...it was the push I
needed. I’ll tell you...seeing everyone watching us dance. I have never been
more proud of anything in my life. Because I had you in my arms.”
Sherlock smiled and sighed happily, pulling John close and kissing him slowly.
“Oh, I will have fun thanking you tonight.”
John beamed and kissed him back. “I look forward to it.”
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