Running. We were just running, getting as far from the sirens and gun shots as we could. Taking lefts and rights and turning back when the street signs were read wrong, until we made it back to Baker Street and through the front door. We both leaned against opposite walls trying to catch our breath. Sherlock was laughing now, just staring at me and laughing with a smug grin on his face.
"Sherlock, what are you laughing about now? We've run nearly 6 miles across London being shot at for 4 of them." That just made him laugh harder and soon we were both just laughing and there was only one thing we were thinking of. The look on Anderson's face when he came back to his car, finding that the victims dog was laying on the windshield, just above the little 'present' he left on the roof of his car.
Sherlock suddenly stopped laughing when we realized there was a bit of blood of my left arm and cheek, from grazing a brick building as I was turning a sharp corner. He grabbed my arm and began examining the wound, deciding it was nothing too bad, he moved on to examine the scrap against my cheek. I got goosebumps as his cold hands touched my face. I was suddenly conscious of how close we were. No more than four inches between our noses. I looked up at him, our height difference more obvious than usual. His hair was messy and his soft curls made me want to run my hands through his hair, one more than one occasion. We locked eyes and Sherlock slowly brought his hand from my cheek to my waist, his eyes flickered from my eyes to my lips and back. I felt his hand tense up and I caught my breath.
"Oh, I thought I heard you boys come in! Should I put the kettle on?" Sherlock jumped away from me when the door opened and waited a moment before turning to Mrs. Hudson, "Yes, that would be delightful, thank you." His voice was calm and steady, but I couldn't trust mine to be the same so I just smiled and nodded her way. Sherlock began walking up the stairs to our flat, taking off his scarf and jacket as he walked. He turned back nearly halfway up, "Well aren't you coming up?"
"Hm? Oh, yes, of course."
It took me a few minutes to get up the stairs, mostly because I was still catching my breath, but also because I was trying to analyze what had just happened before Sherlock tried to read every emotion I tried to hide, which he no doubt already did. When I made my way into the flat, Sherlock was already changed into pajamas, blanket wrapped around him and curled on the couch, playing on his phone, no doubt looking for a new case. As he was frowning slightly, I assume there was nothing interesting enough.
"Er..Sherlock-" I started, but was interrupted by Mrs. Hudson bustling through the door with two steaming cups of tea. She handed me mine, light with 3 sugar cubes and put Sherlock's on the table. It was darker than usual, and he made a face as though he had bit down on a lemon for the first time.
"I know you just got off a case, so I made it nice and strong for you, dear." Mrs. Hudson said with a smile. We both thanked Mrs. Hudson and Sherlock even got up to give her a slight hug but as soon as the door closed behind her, he slumped back onto the couch with the face of a toddler who realized he'd forgotten his favorite toy at the park.
"Joooohn" He started whining, but I was already walking into the kitchen with his cup, smiling slightly at his childish reaction. I was stirring his tea when I heard him walk in and stand behind me. Once again, he was only a few inches away from me. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my neck and smell the mint on his breath. "John.." it was barely a whisper. He reached up and placed his hand on my arm and I realized I had stopped breathing. And suddenly I knew, like I was hit in the face by it. I wanted to be closer to him. Closer than anyone else had been in a long time, possibly ever. I turned, quickly, cupping one hand on his face and the other behind his neck, pulling him closer to me. Our lips met and I was sure the world had stopped, right then and there. Because that is where I should have been all along. Kissing Sherlock with his arms wrapped tight around me.