Missing Piece - BBC Sherlock (Johnlock) *finally completed*

Chapter 12

The alarm clock on the bedside table ticked obscenely loud in the silence that lay upon the room. The moon shed its light through the small space between the shut curtains. Sherlock had stopped counting the seconds after a while. Even a boring occupation such as that didn’t help him fall asleep. How could people honestly believe that something like that could help?  He had even gone so far as to replace the seconds with sheep. The consulting detective had still been wide awake after the five hundred and fifty ninth sheep.

The sleep which he needed so badly just wouldn’t come. Although he’d barely slept the last few days. Not while John had still been somewhere out there and the crime hadn’t been solved, the criminals not been caught.

Now all these tasks were completed successfully, yet Sherlock was still unable to find any sleep.

He had no clue how he’d gotten into this situation. Well, he did know, after all this had been his idea. A perfectly reasonable, logical idea, but the current situation he found himself in hadn’t been a part of it. Namely lying awake with his heart racing at an alarmingly quick pace and another problem.

Sherlock shifted slightly into a more comfortable position. Not that he wasn’t comfortable with John lying beside him. The opposite was the case. The heat which radiated from John’s body was quite pleasant and reassuring. The feeling of his body so close beside him.  Much too close at the moment.

Somewhere over the last few hours John had thrown his arm over Sherlock’s body and snuggled up. Sherlock had just fallen in a light slumber but the unfamiliar feeling of another body so close to his own had jerked him awake right away. From then on it had all went awry.

What followed had been a completely normal reaction for a human being. Sherlock snorted. As hard at is was to admit but this betrayal of his body hurt his pride. To not be able to control his body thoroughly was annoying and irksome. The human body really was a stupid thing! Primarily the lower regions of it. Which were pointedly demonstrating him at the moment that he wasn’t above these things (pun intended).

Of course Sherlock could simply explain and dismiss his little problem with the argument that this reaction could be expected when the subject, in this case he, had gone for years without any pleasuring stimuli through direct contact of any kind. That went for his fast pounding heart as well.  

It still was irritating. Moreover because it didn’t seem as if his problem would go away anytime soon. Not if the last one and a half hours were anything to go by. And it was getting increasingly uncomfortable.

The best course of action would be to stand up, go into the bathroom and take care of it. There were only two problems hindering him. First was the fact that John was still laying half on top of him. If Sherlock would try to get up the risk of waking John up was high. What should he say then? “Sorry John, I just need to go jerk off because I got an erection from your close proximity”? Even Sherlock knew that that was very definitely not appropriate. He could lie, but he the chances were high that John would see right through it. The doctor had become far too good at reading Sherlock.

The second thing was that even if John didn’t wake up when Sherlock got out of the bed there was the chance that John would wake up while Sherlock was in the bathroom and he’d promised John to be at his side should he wake up. Under no circumstances did Sherlock want to break that promise. Not with John being in the condition he currently was in.

Sherlock scowled. It seemed that there was no sufficient plan to resolve this situation. He could only hope that it would eventually go away or that he’d fall asleep. Though this hadn’t been the case so far.

The bright light of the morning sun shone through the small gap between the curtains. John blinked tiredly against the brightness. He still felt sore all over and the cuts stung far too noticeable, making it impossible to fall asleep again. Still, he closed his eyes again, not yet wanting to stand up.

His body needed more rest. No nightmares had disturbed his night’s sleep. Perhaps his body had been too worn out to torment him with any.

Something moved next to him. John froze in shock and his eyes snapped open, heart racing. He turned his head to see what it was. His body was tense, senses on alert and ready to react to any kind of threat.  

A black mob of unruly, curly hair pocked out from underneath the bed sheets. John blinked, not sure if he was seeing correctly. There was no mistake. He could feel his face heating up and his heartbeat continued to race but now for an entirely different reason.

Sherlock bloody Holmes was lying in his bed!

The memory of last night’s events slowly returned. Of course there was a logical reason for this. Otherwise there’d be no way something like this would ever happen. He sighed heavily. 

John was torn between getting out of bed as fast as possible to bring some distance between their dangerous closeness and just stay where he was, more or less snuggled up to the consulting detective. The parts where their bodies touched were hot and he was all too aware of the increasing desire to feel Sherlock.

When Sherlock had come to his rescue the previous day the body contact had been no problem for him. He had been more or less unconscious by then and the fever had made sure that he couldn’t focus properly. Beside that John had been far too relieved to be at Sherlock’s side again and no longer at the mercy of his kidnappers, to be safe and out of danger.

Now he was back at the flat and by the time Sherlock would wake up everything would return back to normal. His wounds would heal within a month’s time and only scars and nightmares would be left. It was better to end this bittersweet torture of being this close to Sherlock. Beside he was too afraid of what Sherlock might deduce when he woke up while John was still here because his attraction must be clearly visible.

So he did the only reasonable thing and stood up, carefully not to stir Sherlock. Swaying slightly he made his way downstairs, deciding that he’d get dressed later when Sherlock was awake. John was sure that Sherlock needed the sleep just as much as he did. 

It was a miracle that the consulting detective hadn’t noticed John’s feelings by now, otherwise he would surely have said something about how he was married to his work.  John had tried to get rid of his feelings by dating women. After that to distract himself but no matter who John dated it didn’t really help.

Sighing heavily once more, John fetched a few painkillers from the bathroom and hoped that they’d numb his feelings for Sherlock along with the pain from his wounds.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

this is getting way longer than I had planned!

sorry Sherlock it was just too much fun to torture you a bit as well =P

hope you enjoyed this story so far! Have a beautiful day =)