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And when he kisses John on the cheek, the older man can't help the way his face splits with a grin. This is utterly ridiculous.
His free hand lands on the doorknob. He doesn't have to twist it to know it won't work. Not yet. Seven minutes.
John feels airy, like he's been filled with bubbles full of light. ]
Stop. Sherlock...
[ But it's too late, and he's laughing a little himself. ]