John Watson the slave, Sherlock Holmes the master.

Chapter 9

The way he said it made it hard for me to stifle a laugh but I managed to contain myself.

"We really aught to go home," I said to him. All I got was a curt little nod from him before he swung himself around and headed to the door. Well at least that was what it looked like he was trying to do but it didn't really turn out like that. He swung himself around and moved one foot forward but he lost his balance and landed on me.

"Alright," I said with a sigh and put his arm around my neck and put my hand on his waist to support him.

I paid for the drinks with money from his pocket and we slowly made our way outside and towards the apartment; I had to practically drag him for all the help he was giving me.

"D'you know the value of pie?" He asked still slurring his words. Before I could do anything he continued, "It's 3.141592653589793238462643..." I knew I couldn't stop him so I let him drone on in his drunken state until we got back to the apartment and into his room.

"Okay Sherlock, time for..." Before I could even finish my sentence he collapsed on the bed and went straight to sleep. Sighing I undressed him and went to leave.

"John," I heard him say behind me. I turned around to reply but he was fast asleep. "John, I love you. Don't leave me John," he continued so I decided to stay for a bit. He would never tell me things like this when fully conscious. 

"Sherlock, I'm here," I said prompting him. I didn't really expect him to reply, he was asleep after all.

"Good John. I wanted to tell you that I... I love you and I have since I first saw you but I ignored it. Then when you ran away it hurt me, but I didn't know. Then I got angry and hurt you back but I still didn't understand why I was hurting you which is strange because I'm smarter than everyone. Then a little while ago I understood and wanted you but I didn't want to hurt you again. Also being in that sort of relationship would effect my mental capacity, I would have to delete some stuff, not to mention that it would distract me from solving... stuff. I wanted to forget for a little while, just your presence was too distracting." He said unconsciously and rolled over. I heard an intake of breath and thought he was going to say something else but then I heard a snore and realised that was all I would get out of him.

I left the room quietly and carefully shut the door behind me not wanting to disturb Sherlock. I headed to my room and sat on my bed in thought. Did he really mean it? He can't love me. For one we are both men but then again when has Sherlock ever done something considered normal. If anything he tries to do the complete opposite. I suppose it is only natural that he would love someone in a way that went against social conventions; even though it is a little bit more normal now, meaning loving another man was no longer illegal but loving a slave on the other hand was. I sighed and laid down; I could think about it more in the morning.

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I woke up the next morning and walked into the living room. I was surprised to see it was empty, Sherlock never slept that long. I sighed and made two cups of coffee, tea had less caffeine so wouldn't work as well. I grabbed a mug and went to Sherlock's bedroom.

"Master?" I asked through the door but there was no reply. I rolled my eyes and went inside. "I have coffee," I informed him and was relieved when he sat up and accepted it. A memory of undressing came unbidden into my mind and I felt the blood rush to my face. I very quickly left the room and hoped that he hadn't noticed. He can't have seen that, he has a hangover.

About 10 minutes later Sherlock came out of the bedroom with his hand up to block out the light. He stumbled over to the curtains and shut them darkening the room slightly.