He can’t go back there right now. It’s too embarrassing.
One week after John kissed him for the first time and he already messed everything up.
He’d heard it often enough from suspects: “She was getting so clingy.” – “I couldn’t go anywhere without him, it drove me insane.” – “She just wouldn’t leave me alone.”
He swore to himself that if John ever loved him back, he would never be clingy. And yet he stood there this morning and couldn’t let go.
He had been lying on the sofa when John came down. Instead of making a bee-line to the kettle, he came over to the sofa and pressed a gentle kiss on Sherlock’s lips before wandering off into the kitchen.
Sherlock couldn’t help himself, he needed more of John so he walked up from behind and embraced John, pressing his whole body against him. John made a content noise so Sherlock held on, until John started to squirm. And then squirmed some more. And said his name.
Suddenly realising what he was doing, Sherlock let go and – with a feeble excuse – dashed off.
He feels rather stupid when he goes home after a few hours walking around London to explain himself and John shakes his head, smiles gently and says that he just wanted to turn around to hug Sherlock back.