Kleptomaniac (A Johnlock Fanfiction) [2015 Wattys Award Winner]

Chapter Ten

Sherlock finds himself savoring the taste in his mouth John leaves. Not that he literally has been tasting the man - as far as Sherlock knows, the only feelings John return are the ones that convince him to share the notes, back and forth, every day.

Regardless, he loves the twist of his penmanship, the way his letters shift and ease into each other. He considers their relationship, as platonic as Sherlock had rather unintended it to be, to be his favorite pastime. Hours, spent at the door, sending back and forth messages on a cramped piece of loose leaf. Words written that couldn't possibly said aloud, lest they sound like overeager attempts at courtship - Sherlock scoffs at the thought (even if he likes the thought).

His day is no longer composed of staring longingly at the rides in the fair while smoking cigarettes; to be honest, he likes it this way. Now, he knocks three times on John Watson's door, and slips a note under. Then he waits. Barely a minute.

He hears the padding of bare feet in the hall, and he ruffles his hair into place, despite the fact that John probably won't open the door. It's a silent agreement, one that does not require discussion. Sherlock will send the notes, and John will send them back without question.

Namely, their conversations begin with a simple hello, and then they divulge themselves into seemingly interesting conversation. When Sherlock takes the notes home, he reads them over and he realizes he spent his entire evening discussing the quality of chocolate bars. Sometimes, this is so hard. Sometimes, he knows he's wasting his time, being caught up in this, but sometimes, he contemplates writing his phone number on the slip of paper he and John share.

***

I'm sorry, did I wake you?

-SH

Only barely.

Do you usually sleep this late?

-SH

Only sometimes.

So, what's the reason for this?

-SH

The time is fucking 4:30. Sherlock has been fucking waiting, all fucking day, writing note after note after fucking note, for John to get up and come to the door:

Hello, John. Wake up.

-SH

Where are you?

-SH

It's 12:03.

-SH

You're usually out by now.

-SH

I would break in, but that's very rude.

-SH

John.

-SH

I.

-SH

Am.

-SH

Bored.

-SH

And also very anticipatory of your return.

-SH

If you could kindly.

-SH

Please.

-SH

Fucking - pretty please.