Are you ready to leave? SH
Almost. JW
How much longer? SH
Two minutes. JW
I love you. SH
That made John smile. No matter how many times he heard it, it still made his heart flutter.
I love you too. JW
If you did, you wouldn't still be at the hospital. SH
You would be here, letting me hold you and touch you and kiss you senseless. SH
John felt a shiver go through his body. It was incredible how Sherlock could turn him on with just a look or a word, or in this case a text. Sherlock knew it of course and he used that knowledge quite mercilessly.
I'm leaving. I'll be home in fifteen minutes. Promise. JW
And then you can do all the touching and kissing you want. JW
That's too long. I'm already hard, John. SH
John's breath caught in his throat. His brain blanked out and all he could feel was the white hot flush of desire. Sherlock knew exactly how to make him go crazy with want.
John? SH
Sorry. Blanked out there for a minute. JW
Really...I quite like the sound of that. SH
You would. You know exactly what you're doing to me. You're a bastard. JW
And I'm aching for you. SH
That made John groan with frustration. Why was the cab taking so bloody long? He could barely sit still.
I want to feel your under me...I want see you come undone. SH
Sherlock you're killing me... JW
He literally ran up the stairs when he got home. He'd barely stepped in the door, when Sherlock was on him, kissing him fiercely, possessively. John moaned and put his hands around him, only to realise that Sherlock wasn't wearing anything under his dressing gown.
He growled, barely able to contain his desire. He dragged Sherlock into the bedroom and soon they were tangled in the sheets and in each other, lost in a world of their own. They were surprised every time by the intensity of their coupling. It was so much more than sex. It was a desperate desire to be together, to get as close to each other as possible, to become a part of each other...it was unlike anything either of them had ever felt before.
They lay there gasping, floating in a hazy afterglow, trying to breathe properly again. Sherlock was lying with his head buried in John's neck thinking how lucky he was to have this amazing man to share his life with. John held him close thanking whatever Gods there were for not giving him the nice woman that he had once thought he wanted. Sherlock was everything he wanted and needed and everything that he could not have imagined.
They had been together a month now. John still thought it was all a bit surreal. Sherlock was astonished that it had only been a month. How had he ever lived without John? He really had no idea.
It was obvious to everyone who knew them that they belonged together. Mrs Hudson was delighted. She had been hoping for years that Sherlock would find someone. John was, in her opinion, perfect. Just the sort of sensible and steady person that Sherlock needed to ground him.
And it helped that he had a mind of his own. Sherlock could be very aggressive…but John was more than able to stand up to him and she could see that Sherlock respected that.
Harry was overjoyed. She had been surprised to hear that her brother was in love with a man…he had never shown the slightest inclination that way before…but she could see that this was for real and she had done everything she could, to help.
Mycroft expressed himself with all the mellow dignity that defined him, but it was clear that he was extremely happy. For all the animosity with which Sherlock treated him, it was to his brother that he had gone when he needed help and advice.
It had been a wonderful four weeks. Both men had been happier than they had ever been before. But at the back of their minds was the thought of the inevitable separation…two weeks more and Sherlock would go back to work and they would have to learn to be in a long distance relationship.
While they both understood the necessity, neither felt ready for it. Sherlock was torn. He loved performing and after the rest he'd had, he was ready, eager even to get back on stage. But the thought of being away from John even for a day made him feel sick.
John didn't feel any better about it, but he had spent hours working things out with Lestrade so that Sherlock would be away for six months instead of eight. Also Lestrade had managed to schedule things so that as long as Sherlock was in Europe he would come home at least once a week. It was a lot more than they had hoped for…
But it is not enough, Sherlock thought. Despite what he had told him, he really wanted John to travel with him and be as much a part of his life as possible. It was selfish of him, he knew, but he couldn't help it. He'd had a life time of feeling unbalanced and out of place.
Lestrade had been the only person other than John who had accepted him but even he didn't understand him. John was the only person who made him feel at home…the only one who had ever thought him perfect as he was.
John made him feel peaceful and happy…he made his mind go quiet. Sherlock had got used to that now and he was loath to give it up even for a few days at a time. He needed John. The thought of leaving was making him acutely unhappy.
He tried to keep it to himself...but John noticed. He knew Sherlock's moods better than anyone. He tried to get him to talk, but Sherlock just smiled and said it was nothing. That smile was forced and John knew that something was definitely wrong...
He knelt beside Sherlock and kissed him lightly on his forehead. Sherlock turned to him with a small smile and pulled him into a hug. He held him tight...almost as if John might disappear if he didn't...And then John understood.
"It's only for a week at a time...at least for the first three months." He said gently.
"A week is too long John. I'll miss you too much. I don't think I can sleep without you."
"And you won't eat either, without me nagging you."
"That too." Sherlock said with a smile. He ran his thumb over John's lips like he was trying to memorise them. "Do you know how amazing you are?"
"No. But I feel like I must be when you look at me like that."
"John, why does it have to be like this?'
"I don't know love...I wish I could say that it will get easier, but I know it won't."
"What will you do when I'm not here?"
"Get drunk, listen to sad love songs and pass out, I expect."
Sherlock laughed. "You're much too strong for that."
"That's what you think." John said and then he pulled him into a long, lazy kiss. It was love, longing, desire, adoration, everything he didn't have words for. Sherlock was going to leave in a week's time and then they would only see each other for day or two, every few days. John had no clue how he would survive. But it helped to know that Sherlock was as unhappy about it as he was.
