Sherlock goes into heat for the first time
"Sherlock?" John called as he walked through the front door of the Holmes residence.
"Down in a second!" Sherlock called back from upstairs.
"Alright then," John said, mostly to himself as he removed his shoes, dropped his bag and made his way into the living room. It still was rather early, even if it took Sherlock another fifteen minutes they would still make it to school with time to spare. Flopping down on the sofa, John flipped on the telly, figuring it would probably end up take the other boy longer than the supposed second.
He was almost engrossed in the program when he thought he heard something, maybe the sound of his friend coming down the stairs. But when he looked over the couch and Sherlock didn’t materialize, he simply brushed it off as background noise and returned to paying attention to the telly. When it happened again a few seconds later though, John was only just quick enough to catch sight of a pair or pointed ears before they disappeared behind the couch. He could have called Sherlock out on it but instead simply sighed and ignored it, figuring his friend was ‘stalking’ him again. It happened from time to time when he was in a playful mood and John had learned to hone his reflexes appropriately.
So when Sherlock finally did pounce, John was ready. Ready to catch him and roll them right off the couch so that he landed on top and won this round. He didn’t, however, expect Sherlock to be missing his trousers. Or to effectively straddle him. Or to have that strange glint in his eyes as he started purring and pushing up his jumper and leaning ever closer and-
"Sherlock, no!" Mrs. Holmes cried as suddenly Mycroft was pulling a very irate Sherlock from the stunned boy.
"Sherlock," Mycroft yelled as the boy struggled in his arms, hissing and calling out John’s name in a longing tone, "stop it right- Ow! Right. Now!"
Sherlock simply continued to hiss and yowl as his brother effectively dragged him from the room, leaving John rather confused and wrong footed. “Stop that scratching!” John heard him yell before a door slammed shut, causing him to snap back to reality and scramble off the couch. He was about to chase after them when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"I’m so sorry John," Mrs Holmes said soothingly as John battled his confusion. Sure, he usually dated girls, but he and Sherlock were really close. He just never seemed interested in such things. But if Sherlock was interested, well, he certainly had no problem with that. No, no problem at all. Even if Sherlock’s family apparently did-
"I should have given you a call to let you know Sherlock’s in heat," Mrs Holmes continued, causing a cold wave of shame to pass through him. Of course. He was an idiot. Sherlock wasn’t truly interested. It was instincts, convenience. No wonder his brother had dragged him away like that. God, what had he been thinking?
"Are you alright?" she asked as John’s face burned. How could he have been so stupid.
"Fine," he croaked causing the woman to smile.
"I think you should talk to him. Not right now obviously," she chuckled as he shot her an incredulous look, "but maybe this afternoon after school. He should be calmed down by then, the first time is the worst I’m told. Who knows," she added slyly, "maybe the two of you will have fun."
"But… but I mean," John stuttered, refusing to look at her, "Sherlock… he doesn’t actually like me like that right? I mean, it’s just the instincts isn’t it? Right place, right time?"
"Oh John," the woman sighed patiently as she gave him a quick hug. "The heat only makes him act out, lowers his inhibitions. Like being drunk. It certainly doesn’t create something from nothing. Perhaps, without the heat, he would have never made a move but… John he’s effectively chosen you. And I really should not be telling you this but you didn’t seem that opposed to it when we walked in." she finished, eying him shrewdly
"I… I… no I… I didn’t mind. Are you sure though?"
"As sure as a mother can be about these things," Mrs Holmes replied warmly. "Now, off you go. I’ll call in and tell them Sherlock is sick for the day. Perhaps you can pick up his homework?"
"Yeah… yeah alright," John mumbled, a bit dazed after everything that had just happened.
"There’s a good boy," Mrs Holmes said with a grin. "And remember, don’t you let him scare you off," she said, mock-sternly. "My boy is nothing if not stubborn."
"No, yeah, don’t worry. I’ll be back later," he promised. With one last longing look at the stairs, John stuffed his feet into his trainers, grabbed his stuff and left for school. Class couldn’t end fast enough.