Johnlock One-shots

222.The "Dream"

Sherlock slowly walked closer to the bed, softly walking and hoping not to wake John. His eyes scanned over the man's unconscious body and a little smirk pulled at his lips. He loved watching John sleep.  

This all started a few years ago. Sherlock noticed he was in love with John, and not knowing anything about relationships, he tried to hint at loving him. John never caught on, so he started spending time with him the only way he knew how; when he was asleep.

John slept so peacefully, so cutely, a small smile on his lips, one hand over his chest and the other tucked under himself, sunk under the warm and comfortable blanket.

Sherlock walked up to stand at the edge of the bed, looking down at him. John was a deep sleeper, so he didn't ever wake up by any soft sounds that Sherlock might accidentally make, like walking around on the rug or sitting on the edge of the bed.

He watched John sleep for awhile, before getting a feeling that he just couldn't put away.

It was sadness.

John would never notice his how he felt, nor love him back. They'll be stuck as friends forever. With a little pout, Sherlock smoothed back John's hair and kissed his forehead, whispering a soft, “Goodnight, John.”

“Goodnight, Darling…” John whispered, almost automatically. He yawned and rolled onto his other side.

Sherlock couldn't help but blush. Even if he was sleeping, even if he had unintentionally said that, it meant a lot to Sherlock. John was so close, he wanted to just lay down and cuddle with him. He kissed John's forehead again, and when he did, he felt John's eyes open. Sherlock panicked, he had taught himself what to do over and over again in case John woke up. He was supposed to hide.

But he was drawn in. “This is a dream,” he whispered quietly, getting on the bed. He could do anything John wanted to do. It was only a 'dream.’ Yes, it was Sherlock's dream. He'd been dreaming of the day he could have free-range to do whatever he wanted with John, who would think this never really happened in the morning.

John's eyes fluttered open and closed a few times and he looked around, shaking his head, “Are you sure?” He asked drowsily.

“If it wasn't a dream, would I do this?” He asked, kissing John's lips. John closed his eyes and put his hands on the back of Sherlock’s thighs and pulled him closer.

Sherlock's mind was racing. John just touched his thighs, and was now holding them, pulling him closer. He had to keep it together. John's version of dream Sherlock wouldn't blush when they were kissing.

But, just then, as he thought of the word kissing, Sherlock's cheeks flushed with pink. He had to stay cool.

John's hands slid up a bit and he tilted his head, kissing Sherlock deeply and passionately before pulling away to breathe.

“I'm so happy I can dream about you,” John said. “that's the only way you'll be able to love me.”

Sherlock smiled a little against John's lips. He unknowingly confessed love to him.

“I don't know,” Sherlock held John and rolled over with him, now they switched places, Sherlock was on the bottom. He felt more secure on the bottom. “I think you should tell me how you feel, out of your dreams that is, maybe I love you back.”

“I'll try.”

The rest of the night was thrilling. They spent the entire time kissing and touching and cuddling with each other. When the sun was going to rise, Sherlock calmed John down enough that he fell asleep. He made it look like he'd slept all night and that Sherlock was never there, then left.

He could still feel John's hands on his body and John's lips against his own as he walked out of the room and downstairs. He was so excited.

Sherlock took a shower and changed his clothes(into the purple shirt and black trousers that he knew would get John), then made himself a cup of tea. He laid down on the couch and steepled his fingers, revisiting the night as he waited for John to get up.

He heard his friend walking around upstairs, doing his morning routine. Sherlock counted off everything John did, impatiently waiting. He knew John's routine by heart. It was:

“Take a shower ✓

Get dressed ✓

Put on cologne ✓

Shave ✓

Brush teeth ✓

Comb hair ✓

Make sure I look presentable and not depressed ✓”

Sherlock always thought the last one was a little funny, John wasn't depressed, he just always thought he did for some reason. John sort of did that one subconsciously, he just stood by the mirror for a few minutes and made sure he looked like a decent human being. John of course, never wrote it down. That's just the order he did it.

Once John started walking downstairs, Sherlock's heart started to beat faster. John walked into the kitchen and yawned, making a cup of tea.

“Hey.” Sherlock started out the conversation awkwardly.

“Hey.” John responded.

“Sleep well?” Sherlock asked.

A blush seemed to spread over John's cheeks. He remembered. Good.

“Very well. I had a wonderful dream.”

He thinks it's still a dream. Also good.

“Oh?” Sherlock asked. He shifted a bit. “What was it about?”

“Uhm…” John took a sip of tea and stared at Sherlock. He was staring at him sort of weirdly, with this almost in-love expression. “You.” He admitted.

“Me?” Sherlock asked, pretending that he didn't know that John practically dreamed about sex with him. Even though it wasn't really that intense, and it wasn't a dream, Sherlock didn't let it go that far. He wasn't ready for that.

“Listen, Sherlock, I just need to say something to get it out, I need you to hear it, please listen to me.” John walked over to the couch and made a gesture that told Sherlock to sit up. He did, and John sat down. “I think I might feel something for you.”

“What?” Sherlock asked, though his heart was out of control and the words 'I love you' wouldn't leave his mind.

“I don't know… like…” John looked down. “I think I love you?”

Sherlock's face turned pink. He looked away for a moment and mentally freaked out. John started to get worried when he noticed Sherlock froze, and he just stopped everything for at least five minutes before life came back to him.

“I… feel the same.” He moved closer and set his hand on John's waist, leaning over to kiss him. “I know I love you.”

John closed his eyes and leant into the kiss. “I love you too.” He said, and their kiss started to become more passionate and loving. John pushed Sherlock onto the couch and let his desires take over. Sherlock allowed him to do whatever he wanted.