The Map of a Man

Long always came to mind when you considered Sherlock. Also delicate, and yet strong; he was, after all, a walking contradiction. Polished, rough an elegant mess, and these were all reasons why he fascinated John Watson.

Another reason is because we're not really talking about Sherlock, but Sherlock's hands. From the first moment they'd slid around his phone, John had been hooked. He'd spent many a restless night considering what else those violinist's fingers could wrap round, imagining new sounds the musician's skills could produce.

When John's dreams became a reality and those spider-like fingers skittered across his own hand at a crime scene, across his back and his cheek...confident and yet shy in the public eye...It was the first time, and the work of a stuttering heartbeat, that had John linking their fingers together. He confidently halted both their tremors, and opened a floodgate of affection in the skinny consulting detective.

He loved Sherlock's hands. They were everything the man was. If you could choose a word to accurately describe Sherlock, it fit those beautiful hands too. Long, thin, messy, busy, elegant, expressive, gentle, strong, delicate, sexy...

That was why whenever Sherlock got lost in his cases and John considered walking away, just leaving and finding a life where he came first in someones priorities... He pulled out those smooth leather gloves Sherlock kept tucked in his coat and tenderly brushed his own hands over the silky leather.

He would watch his own short, strong, confident and scarred fingers glide across the supple leather as he wondered how two people with nothing really in common besides danger, love, and a mutual attraction worked so perfectly together; how they just worked.

Then he'd slide the leather gloves over his own hands, and the shiver that would travel his spine made his eyes close and a sigh escape his lungs. His hand was always holding Sherlock's, their fingers entwined even when they were apart. John would smile and link his own hands together inside soft leather and he'd smile.

And Sherlock would relax, knowing once again that John had reminded himself of what Sherlock always knew; that opposites attract and that their personal puzzle was a perfect fit.

Simply put;

John and Sherlock.

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Ari