John took a deep shuddering breath as he approached the door of 221B. A million things he wanted to say, yet none of them seem right. He loved Sherlock, and he wanted to be with him. Of course, that was a bad idea, as he was married with a family on the way. For the longest time he had been able to suppress the feelings he had, but after their kiss, Sherlock was the only thing he could think about. He opened the door and walked up the staircase. Sherlock, I love you. John thought. Sherlock I need you. I am so sorry. Tell me what to do...He got to the door. He remembered how broken Sherlock had been the last time he had opened it. It hurt his soul to the core. What was he going to do now? He was going to make things worse, and he knew it. He shouldn't be here. He had to see Sherlock. Selfish. He knocked, and then opened the door.
Sherlock fretted sitting in John's chair. He wrapped his arms around himself rocking slightly. It was just nerves just nerves and guilt. He counted John's steps up the stairs, the faltering just before he reached the door to the lounge, the debating whether or not he should open it. He has a family, will have a family. What about Mary? What about me. I wanted this longer! But he won't leave her, he wants you but he won't go you know that. Sherlock slumped, it was true John wouldn't leave Sherlock, wouldn't stop this, they'd just carrying on like it wasn't destroying three people's lives. "Why are you here?" He bit out.
John took a deep breath. Sherlock was sitting is his chair, and that struck him like a thunderbolt. He was thinking about me..."Sherlock, we need to get this sorted."
"Fine let's get this sorted," His voice tore a little, refusing to look at John. "How." He demanded softly, "How do we sort this out?"
"You are the one with all the answers." John choked out. "Here, I will just say everything, then pretend that it is not me talking, and give me advice. Can we do that?" John asked. He wanted to look at Sherlock, but he kept his gaze hard on the ground.
Sherlock bit his lip. "Yes fine, here...consult me." The words poured off his tongue reluctantly. As if I could ever be objective without smashing myself in two when it came to John.
John cleared his mind so he could talk freely.
"When I met you, you were the most amazing person. Your talents for deducing things that seemed impossible was mind boggling. You just swept me up like a hurricane into your world of crazy, and I loved it. I was lost. A broken man. You helped me in ways I can never even explain to you. You gave me a new meaning, a purpose in the madness. I cared so deeply about you, but I never said a word. When you died, it very nearly killed me. You were such a huge part of my life, then you were just gone. It took me a while to move on, but when I did, I never fully moved on. I met Mary and she helped me come to terms with life without you. When I saw you again after 2 years I was furious. Not only because you let me think you were dead, but because I was just about ready to move on from you, then you come back with all of your brilliance, and you save my life again. I will not go through life without you by my side, but we have to find a way to be with each other and not be brought to misery because of a desire that cannot be taken care of. I love you Sherlock. I need you. I cannot let you get hurt though." John was lightly crying at this point.
Sherlock took a shuddered breath, he was silent for what seemed like hours, John's words ripping him to shreds. "You want my consultation?" He drawled, "You don't want to be without me but you don't want to be miserable with me so you won't leave her. You just want your feelings to go away." He felt his voice crack. "I don't mind if I get hurt for you though. I can keep a secret; you'd have Mary and your proper life and me whenever you wanted."
"I wouldn't be miserable with you. Best years of my life are the ones we spent together, living here and solving cases. I just want you to know that." John hurt, but he knew he had to ask. He mustered up the strength, and looked Sherlock in the eyes. "Would it... would it just be easier for you if I stayed away? I am not saying I want to, not at all, but would that be best? I mean, if you have to stare at gruesome death after every time I am near you..." His voice trailed off as sorrow filled him.
"It'd be easier in the long run," Sherlock whimpered "but you don't want that. We could...do this for as long as it takes for you to get me out of your system, still solve crimes after that if you'd like I just wouldn't kiss you once you're done with me."
John laughed pathetically. "How could I ever be done with you, you stupid, brilliant man. Here you are, willing to make yourself miserable just to help me." John couldn't stop the tear that fell from his eye. "And you thought you didn't deserve me... It is I who so does not deserve you."
"When the baby comes you'll stop." Sherlock replied in a low voice, he hated that he was the one bringing the truth and reality to the conversation. It was his job though to be the logic to John's emotions, just as John was the morals to his passion. "And you'll realize you can't anymore, because you'll love this tiny infant more than anything else and you couldn't do that to your child. And maybe after a particularly bad fight you and Mary have or a bad day at surgery or when your leg pain flairs up you'll come over for more than just a case or a chat and you'll get your anger out and maybe stay the night in my bed if you're feeling guilty."
John knew that everything Sherlock was saying was dead on. He wiped away his tears, walked quickly over to Sherlock, and pulled him in. He sat down in the chair next to him, and just held on for dear life. "You are a good man, Sherlock Holmes." John whispered into Sherlock's neck. "Please though, don't get hung up on me. But if you need anything, call. I mean it."
"Too late," Sherlock replied with a half laugh "you're an easy man to get hung up on John Watson." He brought shaking fingers to clutch at John's back for a hug, don't, dipped his head a little into the crook of John's shoulder, stop it, and pressed a small gentle kiss on there. "I'll call." He promised "I'd be lost without my blogger."
"This... this is okay." John said trying to convince himself more than Sherlock. "You need someone so you don't feel lonely, I need you. You need me. At least for a little while. This is good for the both of us..." John closed his mind. He just could not think about what was happening, so he didn't. He just nuzzled into Sherlock, feeling his closeness. You are a bastard, John.
Sherlock swallowed down his words and choked whimpers like they were glass. It would hurt more coming out than going back down though. He shook a little, clinging to what he had. This, this is what you get. You get to hold him that should be enough, it's more than you deserve. "Next time you're angry or you've had a fight and you come here, because you will come here." It was a resigned voice as though he didn't want to be right. "It's fine. I know what...that...that you'll be there to get some anger out I won't say a word about it I won't cling to anything no matter if it's the smallest thing that happens." You are just a self-destructive idiot Sherlock Holmes. Always the addict and your drug is just making sure he's okay.
"I love you, I do... please don't think I am just using you... I'm not... well maybe I am... but only because I care... God, does that even make sense?" As John spoke his voice became an even deeper tone, flowing with pain and confusion. I should never have come when Sherlock had asked me to... NO... I should I have. He needed me. He was broken because he had used someone, then that person had died. You say you care. You are just using him for your own selfishness. I never should have told him the truth. I should have said I never cared, or at least that I no longer did. You made it worse... so much worse...John just pulled himself closer to the detective. The best friend he had ever had, that he was now hurting for his own gain. STUPID .
"No." Sherlock admitted almost moodily "but I don't really care." Sherlock inhaled John's scent deeply. It was always so clean and fresh, like soap, cotton, musk and a bit of lime. Means he still uses that green shower gel. Shut up Sherlock.He hummed a little happily when John pulled him closer before shutting his eyes, it became apparent he was pretending this was under different circumstances, that the confessions would lead to some happiness rather than a fleeting one sided occasional affair.
You are breaking him...John moved his hand to the back of Sherlock's head. Stop this... He moved him so their eyes met. He pressed his lips to Sherlock's for the smallest of seconds before pulling away and holding his gaze. "Will you be okay?" Of course he won't...
"Of course I will." Sherlock responded quickly, almost reading the thoughts in John's head. Liar of course you won't be."Come on I'm 'nobody else can compete with my massive intellect'" He quoted John weakly. "Of course I'm fine I'm always fine." Liar, you'd be willing to rip yourself apart to just pretend for fleeting moments he was all yours, pathetic. You'd be okay with him ending it when it suits him as long as you have the memories to cling to, even more pathetic.
John sighed. You know he is lying right?"Good I guess..." John sat up, and cleared away the bad thoughts. "Come on, let's go do something... clear our minds. Maybe get a drink?" John half laughed lightly. "I mean, it went so well the first time, right?"
Sherlock nodded forcing his own laughter as he grabbed his coat and scarf, walking down the stairs. They opened the door and without thinking he went to slip his fingers into John's before taking them back. "Sorry wasn't thinking, if we're in public we can't of course we can't."
"Its-its okay." John said with a half-smile. He grabbed Sherlock's hand and gave a comforting squeeze before letting go. "Later." He said as he wrapped his coat around himself tightly and looked at Sherlock. "Where to?"
Sherlock felt himself visibly lift up at John's hand squeeze. "Pub" He offered reasonably, well John had suggested a drink. "A quiet one...too many people will be hellish. All that information." He pulled a face, letting John lead him around the corner.
"Perfect." John said. He let nothing enter his mind but getting to the pub. Soon they arrived at a small place. Only a few people sat scattered at tables. "This okay?" John asked, walking inside and taking off his coat.
Sherlock flicked over the few people. "Fine" He replied letting the information sweep over him and taking John to the back corner. Removing his coat, it dawned on him he should order a drink. You need to seem calm, comfortable or he won't do this. "Scotch small amount of ice, please." He pressed the bartender in a plain voice, fiddling with his glass as they sat back down. "Stop looking at me with pity."
"I am not looking at you with pity." John said with exasperation. "I will just have a beer." John said turning to the bartender, then back to Sherlock. "I will never pity you."
"Good to know." He replied over the top of his drink, taking a large gulp as the liquid poured itself down his throat. Sherlock traced the table idly, ordinary conversation was painful when he knew he was able to lean against John and speak, but unable to in public. "So is this a date then?" He asked sarcastically.
"Yeah, a date." John laughed. "You remember that one time during the study in pink case? Took me out to dinner." John took a long drink. "Now was that a date?" John tried to appear to be in high spirits, but the corruption of the situation sat heavily on his chest.
Sherlock bit his lip. "No that was a case." He replied in a cool voice faking indifference.
"Yeah, I was joking. Just trying to find something to talk about." John moved his glass to watch the liquid swirl around. "We have had some good times, huh?" John asked. He looked up at Sherlock, trying to read something from his eyes. "Too many more." He lifted his glass to his lips, in-taking a small sip that he held in his mouth for a second before swallowing.
Sherlock felt his lip quirk up as he clinked a glass with John's. "I'll drink to that" he paused, the alcohol lingering on his lips and the urge to shift closer to John rising. "Do you hold Mary's hand across the table when you're on dates?" He asked bluntly.
"Sometimes, not usually." John said. He was trying to concentrate on Sherlock, get a reading from his tone, inflections, face. Not as easy as Sherlock made it look. "Any other questions? Honest answers." John said looking around the pub. More people had cleared out.
Sherlock raised an eyebrow as he noticed John attempting to deduce him. "What is it like when you kiss her."
"Normal I guess..." John leaned in a little. "Nothing like kissing you." He whispered, and then pulled away. "None of the same spark."
Sherlock's face darkened. Yes but he's not leaving her, is he? "She's good in bed?" He spat a little.
John's face flushed. "Average." He choked out. He quickly finished his drink and ordered another. All sorts of images of him and Sherlock in bed clouded his thoughts. He shook his head trying to clear away the obscene imagery.
"I'd say I'm sorry to hear it, but I don't care." Sherlock drawled slowly, his machine like mask built up around him. Downing his drink, he gestured for another. "Such a shame it's remotely not my problem."
"I did not think you would care in all honesty." John said looking away from the detective. "You are sounding a bit like your old self again though, and that is nice to see." John smiled on his glass, taking a larger gulp then he had fist anticipated. "Feeling better perhaps?" He asked, almost afraid for an answer.
"I don't feel things." He sneered, his shaking hands betraying him. "And even if I did I can promise you, I'm perfectly okay..." Sherlock paused and his voice softened. "Spending time with you again it's...nice."
"Yeah it is." John agreed. "Life with Mary.. It's a bit boring. I miss the excitement, the danger." John took another drink. His vision was swimming slightly. "You. I have really missed you, but you know that." John said with a laugh. All his worry seemed to melt away into his glass.
"We'll have cases to quell the adrenalin in you." He reminded him, lazily swirling the scotch in his mouth. Sherlock rarely drank, though when he did, he preferred the slight burn of the spirits. "I am well aware you missed me...baker street? After this." He gestured to the pub, hope hanging in his voice, You're hopeful for something destructive that will leave you empty. My god, Mycroft was right, this is entertaining.
"Said I was going to be gone all night when I left." John said finishing his drink. "No matter how this-" He gestured to himself and Sherlock "panned out, I needed a break away from it all. The boring emptiness... So yeah. Baker Street." John smiled, then looked down. "My nightmares have started again." He confessed. "Since being with Mary. I am not sure why it is."
Sherlock paused for a moment. "Well then, we can avoid nightmares together." He offered giving him a small look, scanning John's face for the fraction of anything being wrong. "You should have told me, I could have helped."
"I guess I just tried to forget about it. Plus I did not want to bother you with silly things like nightmares." John looked up. "I guess I should have, I know you can help. You always fix things, and make lives better." John smiled "Especially mine."
"Stop complimenting me," Sherlock muttered keeping his gaze on the drink "you don't mean it."
"Yes I do!" John exclaimed. He placed his hand and Sherlock's shoulder, and held his gaze. "You. Are. Brilliant."
He felt the warmth from John's hand settle and calm him. "Only to you it appears."
"Well, is that not what matters anyhow?" John asked. "Plus, anyone who cannot see how amazingly brilliant you are is completely daft!" John smiled.
"I'll let them know." Sherlock hummed, gesturing over for a third scotch. He had to dull his thoughts if he was going to do this. Be on a date without being on a date; be around him with him knowing, without a case to raise his distraction.
Another drink had already been brought to John who drank it thirstily. Nothing was going on in his mind but being with Sherlock. All other things floated away like lost dreams. "You do that." John said, finally removing the glass from his lips. "Hey Sherlock." John asked suddenly. "How long did, you know-" he leaned in close. "How long have you loved me for?"
"I realized it was love about 6 months into first meeting you." Sherlock's answer was instant and detached. "Suppose I'm a romantic." He drawled sarcastically.
"How sweet." John said with a goofy smile. The beer was starting to take control of him. Without thinking about it he placed his hand on Sherlock's. "You are such a sweetie sweet man."
"You're only doing that because you're drunk." Sherlock mumbled, defeated but still tightening his grip on John's hand, pretending they were in private for a moment. "I'm not sweet, I'm weak."
"You are far from weak. Even when you are struggling, you are still the strongest person that I know. Please, just for a little bit, just for tonight. Stop hating on yourself." John said. He looked deeply in to Sherlock's eyes, and kept his hand tight. "And I am not drunk." He added with a slight smile. "Say something about how amazing you are." John said, reaching his other hand up to pet the side of Sherlock's face.
Sherlock felt his features soften. "I have enough sense to love you." He shrugged. "There."
"There is no good sense in loving me, and you know that. Is it really so hard for you to be nice, even if it is to yourself?" John asked sympathetically.
Sherlock scowled. "Why? I'm not a nice person, why should I be nice to myself?" He sighed. "Fine, you want nice? I'm...loyal." He said the word with some distaste. "To those I see loyalty fit for."
"Thank you, I mean, was that really so hard?" John asked. The world was growing and shrinking around him. Things were spinning, and contorting to less than recognizable shapes. One thing stayed perfectly still, held in place while the world span. Sherlock. How fitting. "I wish you could see you how I see you. You wouldn't even believe it."
"Probably because it would all be untrue." Sherlock shot back, unable to take his eyes of John's lips. "Your hand is still...I only mention because we're in public and you might care."
"Oh, funny thing actually. I don't care at all." John gave Sherlock a huge smile. "Look around, no one is even here." They were alone, except for the bartender who was cleaning glasses. "Unless you have a problem with it?" John asked, raising his eyebrows.
"No," Sherlock blinked, slightly shocked "No not at all...if I could..." He trailed, leaning in to pull John into a kiss.
The world was spinning until it was still. In all of existence there were two. John melted into Sherlock like butter on toast. The rush of adrenaline, the excitement, it all had John's head spinning. He could taste the scotch on Sherlock's lips, his breath, his mouth. It was delicious. He grabbed Sherlock's free hand with his own and held both in a firm grip.
Sherlock let a small moan into John's mouth gripping John tightly letting himself be delirious in the kiss.
John let go of Sherlock's hand, and pulled his head closer. The small moan that had escaped Sherlock had made John dizzy with longing. He sorrowfully broke this kiss, but only so long as it took him to get to Sherlock. He looked around. The bartender was in the back, and the place was still empty. He sat down, straddling Sherlock. He grabbed a handful of his hair and once again pulled their eager lips into a sweet embrace.
Groaning feeling John yank at his curls he let the slightly metallic tasting kiss fill his mouth, pretending it tasted like sugar, ignoring the bitter after taste. His body arched up thrusting a little into John, arousal pooling in him.
John reluctantly broke the kiss, but stayed inches away from Sherlock's mouth. "Maybe we should head back to Baker Street." John slightly panted as he grinded against Sherlock's lap, desperate to drag another moan out of the detective. As soon as his sentence was finished, he took Sherlock's mouth again.
Letting out small whines of pleasure, he nodded ,letting himself be yanked out of the bar. Scotch and John Watson pumping through his veins, he barely made it inside the door before he pulled John into a kiss. "Leave your wedding ring on." he grunted, kissing his neck as he notices John go to slip it off.
John can't even think to respond, so he just wraps his arms around Sherlock instead. The two, completely distracted with each other, bump into a chair and fall into it. John laughs, full of amusement and bliss. "God I love you." He whispered into Sherlock's mouth.
"I love you too." Sherlock muttered taking a small gasp for air before slipping his tongue under John's lips. Letting John's hips rock into his, his mouth was aching for more and his fingers fumbled undoing John's buttons.
John moaned deep into Sherlock as he hastily removed Sherlock's coat. He tried to unbutton each little button but frustration gripped him, and he ended up ripping Sherlock's shirt off. He ran a hand down Sherlock's chest. "Sorry." he muttered, only half caring about what he had done.
"Don't say sorry." Sherlock growled, kissing John roughly as he started undoing the doctor's belt.
John moved away from Sherlock's mouth and kissed down his neck. With each kiss he went lower. Neck to chest. He stopped at his waistline, and then went up where he kissed his ear, down his jaw, then back to his mouth. He moved his hands quickly undoing Sherlock's belt and pants' button. He moaned as he moved against the detective, fantasy becoming a sweet reality.
Sherlock's hips bucked with a small neediness as he flipped John over, kissing his hip bone, dipping his mouth dangerously low. "I want you in me." He uttered lowly into John's ear.
"Oh God." John stuttered out. The amount of arousal he was feeling held him blind with need. He moved Sherlock's lips to his and held them with melting passion. He moved away, and the pain of doing so made him wince "Bed." He stated flatly, voice full of need.
Sherlock didn't need to be told twice, he didn't need to be told once. He panted hungrily, eyeing the door of his room, practically kicking it in and letting himself be pushed onto the mattress and stripped.
John looked down on him. "God, you are perfection." He mumbled as he opened the drawer of the bedside table. To his surprise, and good fortune, he had found a bottle of lube. He jumped on top of Sherlock, kissing him passionately as he put some of the lube on his hand, and began preparing them both for the next step.
Is that what he says to Mary? Shut up Sherlock. He whimpered feeling John prep and stretch him, biting his own wrist to silence his groans.
"You are okay right?" John asked hurriedly. He was not sure how much Sherlock had done, and he did not want to hurt him. Even as eager as he was, Sherlock needed to be okay.
"Don't ask me that ever again." Sherlock spat with hostility, pulling John into a bruising kiss. "I don't care if you care." Lie. Just tell him, tell him what he wants to know. It's not like anything you've kept private is private anymore.
John was a bit stunned and very confused over Sherlock's hostility. "Fine." He nearly snarled. He was tired of Sherlock mistreating himself and lying, but he would deal with that problem in a more appropriate time and place. He pressed Sherlock's shoulder's down hard into the mattress so he could not move. He positioned himself over Sherlock, and slowly slid into his eager body, getting in his full length before pulling back again.
Sherlock gasped as he felt John's length fill him and his width stretch him, he let out an almost sinful moan, clutching the side of the bed sheets, whimpering in a deep mix of pleasure with small amounts of pain.
John dug his face into the curve of Sherlock's neck as he set a steady rhythm. With each thrust, sparks of pleasure intensified. He panted and moaned into Sherlock's neck as he planted small kisses. He moved his mouth to Sherlock's, inhaling the sounds of his pleasure as if it was the only thing keeping him alive. He pushed harder and faster into Sherlock. He loved the way he moaned and shook beneath him. He took Sherlock's length in his hand, and stroked it in time with is thrusts. He needed to watch Sherlock lose his cool. Become almost human under his power.
Sherlock rutted against John, their bodies causing friction. He clutched at John's back, arching his neck, allowing small bites to be had there. He wanted John to leave a bruise, some reminder some evidence. He liked this feeling, this was almost a drug for him in itself. "John, oh god John please."
John bit down hard on curve of Sherlock's neck just has he pushed into him. He knew the pleasure mixed with the sudden pain would either be amazing, or useless. Either way, he took his chance. He let go with his teeth and gently licked at the wound. Everything was a blur of sweat, saliva, and desire. He felt himself nearly go blind with the pleasure he was holding back. "God Sherlock." John moaned. "I am on the edge."
Sherlock nearly choked on his own moans as John bit down. He held onto John, pushing him further inside, heaved breaths barely making his words audible. "I...I'm too, god please just...oh" incoherent sentences were what he'd been reduced to as he felt himself edge closer. "Fuck" uttered out of his mouth, the curse odd coming from him as he grunted into orgasm.
The sight of Sherlock thrown into pleasure was enough to send John flying over the brink. Waves of intense pleasure smashed into him, turning his mind blank and his vision white as his powerful orgasm overtook his whole being. He collapsed next to Sherlock, breath coming in short, harsh wisps. "Fuck." John uttered between strained breaths. He put his arm over Sherlock, and laid his head down on his chest, nuzzling into him.
Sherlock stared ahead at the ceiling as his breathing slowed down. He felt the bruise begin to throb once his pleasure began to pass. He rubbed it a little, leaning himself closer to John. "What time will you be gone in the morning." He mumbled dully, wanting to avoid John's 'but how was that for you? Have you before? You can talk to me' annoying questions, doubting he'd manage it.
"Hadn't really thought about it." John snuggled in closer to Sherlock. He could feel his heart beat slowing down. "Any particular time you wanted me gone?" John asked as his kissed Sherlock's cheek.
"Whatever time Mary won't get suspicious of." Sherlock held John's hand tightly, tracing his wedding band.
"Right, I had actually forgotten about that. God, I am terrible." John whispered against Sherlock.
"You aren't." Sherlock promised back in a small voice cuddling into him, he loathed to admit it but he liked being held after sex. "Put your arm around me." He requested softly.
John wrapped both his arms around Sherlock and held him close, planting soft kisses to his neck and face. "I just got so caught up in, well, in you. Everything else just slipped my mind."
"I noticed...felt it." He replied dryly, rubbing his bruised neck almost proudly. Maybe he wouldn't wear a scarf to cover it. "I like it, it's like I'm yours."
"I like you being mine." John admitted. "Feels right being here with you even though I know I will have to leave at some point." John sat up in a way to look into Sherlock's eyes. "I don't want to have to leave."
"You keep on saying you don't want to, but we both know you will." Sherlock shrugged. "You love two people and one of them you're having a baby with. You're not a bad man John, just in a difficult situation. A resolvable one."
"I don't really see how this can be solved in anyway where either of us is happy, but then again, you see things I don't, so I don't know." John closed his eyes, and rested his head on Sherlock again, trying to fully enjoy every fleeting moment.
"We already discussed how this plays out John. You get this out of your system once you have a child and then you come back when you need a break or a release." Sherlock stroked John's hair lightly. "That's how these things work."
"Well, I don't like it." John complained. He leaned into Sherlock's hand, loving the feeling of him stroking his hair. A small sigh escaped from his lips.
"Well that's just too bad because we both know that's what you're going to do. Embrace the truth, it's liberating." Sherlock choked a little snuggling in tighter. "You're surprised I want to be held after." He pointed out.
"Surprised, but pleased." John said. "You didn't seem like the kind, but hey." He moved his face up to Sherlock's ear. "Just because it is the truth and the reality, does not mean that I have to like it." He kissed Sherlock softly, before lying back down. "Well then we can both share the sentiment." Sherlock replied in a heavy voice.
"Did I bite too hard?" John asked after noticing how Sherlock kept touching the bruise.
"Yes." Came the hoarse voice answer. "But it's good, bite too hard more often."
"Yeah, I can do that." John chuckled. "God, this is really nice. Just lying here with you. Thought you should know."
"Thank you." Sherlock traced small circles on John's arms, keeping his answers short. "I like it, the feeling of your skin against mine... its safe."
"So nice, safe, warm." John could feel himself fading in and out of reality. "I have not felt this safe in a long time." John said. All bad memories had been pushed so far away from his mind, he finally felt light.
"Don't say that." Turning his gaze towards the sheets, he placed his head on John's shoulders leaving small kisses. "Just don't. Just sleep, you haven't been sleeping."
"Don't.. don't tell me what to say.." John yawned. "Or what to do..." He grabbed on to Sherlock a little tighter. "So bossy."
"You say it like you'd actually do something about it." Sherlock challenged.
"Don't push me, I might." John smiled. "I was a soldier, remember? I can take a man down." He cuddled Sherlock, looking no more threatening than a puppy.
"Like to see you try," Sherlock mocked, "I'm so afraid Captain Watson." He scoffed.
John used the last of his energy to jump up, and pin Sherlock down with no way out. "Maybe you should be." John said with a wolfish smile, leaning so close that he could feel Sherlock's breath on his lips.
Sherlock licked his lips a little, the low slightly edgy voice of John causing them both to creep grins on their faces. "Why don't you prove I should be?"
John pulled Sherlock up and pinned him against the wall. He dove to his mouth, tongue searching every inch. He moved his crotch over Sherlock's grinding into him with perfectly applied pressure. He moved his mouth away, and placed it over the fresh bruise. He licked and kissed the mark, applying just enough pressure for it to feel good. He pulled away from Sherlock in an instant and laid back down. "Did I prove my point?"
Sherlock took a moment to regain his breath. He blinked a little dizzy, the bruise throbbing. "That felt good." he muttered kissing John softly before leaning into him. "Point proven...Captain." He smirked.
"Good.. Very good." John said with a smile. He ran his hand through Sherlock's hair, and hummed happily.
"Whenever you want this, me its fine. I'm more than happy." Sherlock mumbled into John's skin.
"What if-" John droned on. "I want you all the time. See? That isn't fine, and you would not be happy." John smiled teasingly.
"I'm above being happy. I wanted this, you for so long I'll take what I can get."
"That makes me sad. I can't really be worth all the trouble and all the pain." John pulled Sherlock closer to him.
"You really could be." Sherlock argued almost happily as he drifted to sleep. John watched Sherlock for a few moments, seeing him peaceful and content lifted his spirits. John yawned, grabbed Sherlock tighter, then drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
Sherlock woke in the early hours, not expect John to be up before him staring. "You feel guilty because of Mary. You're twirling your wedding ring."
"Stop analyzing me..." John whispered. "It gets weird."
"I'm not weird." Sherlock grumbled, curling in on himself. "I can't help seeing everything, I just thought you didn't mind if I voiced it."
"Sorry, I normally don't mind. I just don't like hearing things that remind me of the currant truth, if that makes sense." John said, turning away from his hand that bore a broken promise. He fell back on the bed, and hugged Sherlock.
"Everybody hates hearing the truth, it's cruel if they don't like it and weird if it upsets them and sweet if it makes them happy. It's none of them, it's just facts. But fine, I'll stop it." Sherlock pulled John in tightly. "You'll have to shower before you go. It will look odd."
"Yeah it might look a bit odd if I return home sweaty and sticky and sort of smelling like you." John sighed, happy to just be in Sherlock's arms. "Thank you, for no longer rubbing the truth in my face. Let me live in some sort of blissful illusion."
Sherlock made a small 'hmph' noise, lying in silence, letting John rub his side until it was near noon. "John you need to shower, so I can shower so you can go, so I can go."
"Shower with me." John half asked, have ordered.
Raising his eyebrow Sherlock followed John to the bathroom without question. He turned on the warm water, and he and John stepped inside. Sherlock sighed letting the hot water beat on his back. He felt John hold him close. "Why are you doing this?"
"Why not?" John answered. "Maybe I just want to spend more time with you before we have to go our separate ways."
"I don't have your lime shower gel anymore." He muttered, putting some of his own on a sponge, and lightly rubbing John's back with it, going gently over his scar.
"It's fine, don't worry about it." John said, soaking up the heat of the water, and just enjoying being near Sherlock. He enjoyed how he rubbed his back with the sponge. It was so tender and caring. John smiled in spite of himself.
Sherlock took time washing John, kissing his shoulders running the water and soap away till the shower went cold and they were both fresh and soaked. "I love you." he mumbled into the John's lips. "I love you." He didn't make it public obviously, even if they were exclusive he would never act this way around others, but alone Sherlock enjoyed this aspect of being with another person, of being able to be caring.
"I love you too." John got dressed, but he kept Sherlock near him. "I love you so much, and I think the best part of this is you. You are being so caring. God I love it." John said as he took Sherlock into another kiss. He walked to the front door. "I will miss you until I can be with you again." John said pulling Sherlock in again, not wanting to let go.
Sherlock held him tight feeling pain rise in his chest as he inhaled John's freshly cleaned scent. He likes you like this. He didn't run away when he saw you feel things. He likes you so much he's leaving because that's what people do, this doesn't last Sherlock. I know shut up and let me enjoy it! "Until I see you again then John." he kissed John's cheek before sending him out the front door, not following to not arouse suspicion.
It only took a few moments before Sherlock felt himself sink, a few hours before he sat in John's chair and when 6 o'clock came around, he was hunched in it rocking.