A/N: This was previously going to be just a one document thing, but then it came out too long so I split it into two. This is a role play I did with Bri Froubert. She was absolutely brilliant. She played Sherlock. Anyway. Enjoy. Set after the Great Game, somewhere in the start of series 2. I think...
Disclaimer: None of these characters are ours. All owned by the BBC.
Sherlock? You awake? –JW
No. –SH
What do you want? –SH
I'm sorry to have woken you. I thought you were working on an experiment or something. –JW
It's fine, John. What do you need? –SH
I had a bad dream. It was nothing. I shouldn't have woken you. Sorry. –JW
Was it about the war again? –SH
Yes, but you were in it this time. –JW
Strange. What was I doing? –SH
Being fired at and dying. -JW
It was just a dream. Ignore it. Forget about it. I'm breathing and well. –SH
I know, but it's hard to forget someone you're close to dying in your arms. –JW
It didn't actually happen though. –SH
I know, but it's hard to un-see once I've seen it. JW
I know. Just tell yourself I'm fine. –SH
Okay. –JW
Can you keep me company for a while? –JW
Not too long. Just a couple of minutes. –JW
Please? –JW
Sherlock promptly got up from the couch, his dark blue robe trailing behind him as he walked to John's room. The man had never asked for his company before, he only ever wanted to talk about the dreams. Slowly, Sherlock opened the creaky door to the sight of his best friend, "John." He began quietly, stepping into the dimly lit bedroom. John was startled by Sherlock's entrance, not realising he would come at all. He quickly wiped his eyes to get rid of the tears. The dream had effected him more that he had thought,
"Sorry, I-I didn't think you would come."
"You asked me to come." Sherlock said, sitting down on the edge of John's bed, looking over the wrecked doctor. "Is there anything you need me to do?" He asked, not daring to move or touch John in any way, fearing it may make him uncomfortable. John shook his head.
"J-just stay with me, please."
Sherlock nodded, folding his hands in his lap and keeping his eyes on John. "Do you want to talk about it?"
John paused for a moment before speaking,
"You know what it is already. I-I don't want to say anymore."
Sherlock glanced at John's arm then back as John. Hesitantly, he placed a hand on the shaking limb to try to steady it. He wasn't going to force John to say anything he didn't want to, so long as the army doctor found comfort in his presence, Sherlock would remain silent, gently rubbing small circles with his thumb on John's arm. John breathed in and out slowly, forcing himself to calm. He didn't even flinch when Sherlock placed a hand on his arm and it was calming hid down even faster.
"Thank you."
"Of course." He responded quickly. "If there is anything you need me to do, just let me know."
John nodded, closing his eyes, relaxing under Sherlock's gentle touch. His mouth twitched into a small smile.
"When did you go to sleep?"
Sherlock tilted his head, looking at the clock on John's nightstand.
"Two hours ago." He frowned, "Why?"
John smiled, "You never sleep."
"Sleep wastes time." He shrugged it off. "You should try and get some sleep though."
John nodded, "Okay, but… Would you be able to stay with me? Please? J-just until I fall back asleep."
Sherlock stayed silent for a long time.
"Yes," He finally answered, "Of course John." He gave his arm a reassuring squeeze, "Lie down."
John slid himself down under the covers of his bed, facing Sherlock, "Thanks for this."
Sherlock rested his hand on John's side, "You're welcome. Now close your eyes."
John smiled at Sherlock, eyes fluttering shut, "Sherlock?" He asked after a moment.
He rubbed John's side soothingly. "Yes, John?" his voice was barely above a whisper.
"Don't ever leave me."
"John..." there was nothing to be lost, so Sherlock went from sitting to laying down face to face with John, one arm wrapped around the army doctor. "Of course not."
John shifted closer into Sherlock's embrace, burying his face into Sherlock's chest, "I don't know what I'd be without you."
Sherlock made a quiet humming noise. "I find it's best not to think about those things."
"Mmm..." John yawned before curling up in Sherlock's embrace, "Good night Sherlock."
Sherlock angled his head to look downwards at John. "Goodnight." with John pressed against him, creating a warmth he'd never really experienced, Sherlock considered not leaving as soon as the man was asleep and staying in his bed the entire night. But John was in a different state of mind, he might not feel the same about their position in the morning.
John wrapped his arms around Sherlock's waist, mumbling against his chest, "Stay with me."
Sherlock sighed. "Yes. Alright. Now go to sleep John." he couldn't think of a time he and John had been so physically close to each other.
John sighed, drifting off to sleep in Sherlock's arms.
Sherlock wasn't sure what time he'd fallen asleep last night, he remembered laying there with John wrapped around him, focusing on how it felt to have him pressed so close to him, listening to John's even breathing, and just cherishing the warmth because he knew he'd never get to have that again. And when he woke up he instantly began calculating the easiest and quietest way to get out of John's room before he woke up. Carefully he began to inch his body away from the others.
John unconsciously tightened his hold around Sherlock, snuggling back into his embrace.
Sherlock rolled his eyes and cleared his throat, he'd hoped be able to save them both some embarrassment. "John." he said sternly to the sleeping man.
John was awoken by Sherlock's voice, slowly waking up. He jumped back, and cleared his throat, "Uh... Sorry about that..."
Sherlock quickly got to his feet, straightening out his shirt. "It's fine. Are you alright now?" he asked, avoiding the army doctor's eyes.
"Uh... Yeah, fine..." He looked up at Sherlock, "Thank you for that. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable."
Sherlock reluctantly drew his eyes at John. "Not at all." he murmured. "I just wanted you to be alright."
"Well I am now..." He looked away. or a moment, "You stayed for the whole night?
Sherlock dipped his head forwards. "Yes, you asked me too."
"Oh, I did I? Sorry... I wasn't aware of it." John dropped his gaze again.
"It's fine, you were in a, troubled state, to say the least." he watched John's movements carefully.
John looked down at his hands, playing with the blanket, "I..." he sighed, looking over at the time, "I slept longer than I have in a couple of nights."
"Good." he nodded. "I'm glad I could help you." Sherlock slowly moved to walk out of the room, he swore he could see physically see the awkwardness between them.
John watched as Sherlock left the room before releasing his breath he had been holding. That was just too awkward. He got out of bed before looking down and groaning. He had forgotten to put on his pyjama bottoms on and was left in his pants. He just hoped that Sherlock hadn't noticed.
Sherlock sighed once he was clear of John, swiftly moving from the man's bedroom to the kitchen, preparing tea as a distraction, trying not to focus on the events from last night, cuddling with John, and how much John had needed him there and how it almost hurt to see the man so broken down over a few dreams.
John stood up, walking over to the wardrobe, selecting his robe to wear over his underwear. He ran both his hands through his hair, thinking about Sherlock. He smiled at himself, recalling how they had woken up. How Sherlock had stayed the entire night. He walked over to the door, pausing before sighing, "Dammit John," he muttered under his breath, "Why are you falling for Sherlock?"
Sherlock sighed, leaning against the counter with is head hung down, eyes on the floor. "John." he called out, not looking to see when his friend would come.
John heard Sherlock call. He wrapped his robe tighter around himself before opening the door and making his way down the stairs, "Yes Sherlock?" He walked into the kitchen, eyes landing on Sherlock.
"Last night," he began slowly "you said you didn't know what you'd be without me." he fixed John with a quizzical expression. "What did you mean by that?"
John's eyes widened, did he really say that? "I-um, well..." He sighed, there was no use trying to lie to Sherlock, "If something was to happen to you, something resulting in you missing or dead, I don't think I would be able to live without you. You have made an impact on my life, a good one. I would be lost without you. You made me feel alive again and I can't thank you enough for that." He paused then shook his head, "Sorry, I've probably said too much."
Sherlock listened intently, soaking John's words up like a sponge, his face in it's usual emotionless mask. "It's fine." he responded promptly. "I... thank you..?"' he cleared his throat nervously. "You mean a lot to me to." the detective fought the blush rising in his cheeks and drew his eyes back to the counter as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.
John dropped his gaze to the floor, blushing as well, "Um..." he cleared his own throat, "Would you like me to make some tea?"
Sherlock stepped away from the counter and brushed past John. "Yes, tea would be lovely." he glanced over his shoulder as he sat down on the couch then proceeded to watch John's reflection. "I'm hungry." he added offhandedly.
John chuckled, "What's up with you? Sleeping and eating?" he opened the cupboard, pulling out the tea before turning the kettle on, "What would you like?"
Sherlock pulled his knees to his chest. Good question, John. What was wrong with him? Sleeping, sleeping with John, sleeping in John's bed, holding John, with John pressed against him, warm, John. Sherlock pushed the thoughts aside. Enough of that. "Even I need sleep and food, unfortunately."
John smiled to himself as the kettle finished boiling, "What do you want to eat?" He opened the fridge, pulling out a carton of milk and setting it upon the counter top.
Sherlock could barely handle the domestication, especially how much he enjoyed it. "Surprise me."
John shook his head as he grabbed bread out of the cupboard, setting it down on the counter and placing two pieces of bread into the toaster. He put the milk back into the fridge and pulled out the butter, "Have you got a case today?"
Sherlock sighed. "No. London is unusually peaceful today. Isn't it hateful?" he muttered. "Peanut butter." he said to John, still watching.
John glanced over at Sherlock, "It was supposed to be a surprise." He grabbed the peanut butter and spread it over the two pieces of toast, putting them onto a plate before heading over to where Sherlock was, placing his tea and breakfast in front of him.
"Well it would have been a bad surprise." he took the toast and took a bite. "Thank you." he spoke through a mouthful of food.
John reached over, grabbing his laptop and settling himself onto the couch next to Sherlock, taking a sip of tea, "You're welcome."
"Are you going to work today?" he asked John, feeling a bit of tension in the air. Maybe it wasn't tension, but there was something uneasy about it.
John shook his head, "Not today. It's my day off."
Sherlock nodded slowly, taking a sip of his tea. "Good." he let out a heavy breath. "Good."
John paused, "What's good?"
"That you'll be home." he responded, then snapped his attention to John. "You will be home, won't you?"
"I don't have to do anything today. I can stay home."
"I would like that." he gave John a small smile.
John smiled back before he turned back to his laptop, "So, do you want to do something?"
Sherlock got of from his seat, abandoning his breakfast to stare out the window. "What do you normally do on your days off?"
John looked up at Sherlock, "Uh... Do the washing, clean, get the groceries-"
"Dull." he said before John could continue.
Well, if I don't do it, it doesn't get done at all."
"It doesn't get dull because it's boring." he explained, turning to face John with a gleam in his eyes. "Let's go to the morgue."
John huffed, "Fine." He placed his laptop back on the table, finishing off his tea before looking at Sherlock's food, "You going to eat that?"
Sherlock waved his hand in there. "No I had enough. Come on!"
John stood up, "I'm not going in my robe."
Sherlock sighed, clearly annoyed at the slow pace. "No one will care, they're all dead."
"I'll give you three minutes." Sherlock called after him, pulling on his long coat and scarf. It would just be a normal day with John, they wouldn't talk about last night, they wouldn't think about last night. Sherlock refused to think about it, even as he continued to do so.
"I'll give you three minutes." Sherlock called after him, pulling on his long coat and scarf. It would just be a normal day with John, they wouldn't talk about last night, they wouldn't think about last night. Sherlock refused to think about it, even as he continued to do so.
John rolled his eyes as he went to his wardrobe, chucking a pair of trousers, a shirt and jumper onto the bed. He peeled off his robe, throwing it over to the washing basket before putting his fresh clothes on.
"Thirty seconds." Sherlock called loudly irritated. "Does it always take you this long to get dressed?"
John chuckled, "No, I'm deliberately taking three minutes to get changed because I enjoy getting you irritated." He pulled on his jumper and slipped into his shoes before making his way down the stairs.
Sherlock watched him come down the stairs, raising an eyebrow. "Are you ready then?"
John paused, "Yes, yes I am. Are you?"
"Of course." Sherlock turned and opened the door, marching through it and down the steps. "Come, John."
John followed Sherlock, closing the door behind him, "Why do you want me to come?"
Sherlock glanced behind him. "You help me think." he opened the next door that led out to the cold streets of London, quickly moving to hail a cab.
John smiled at himself as he moved next to Sherlock, waiting for a cab.
A cab quickly pulled up to the curb and Sherlock got in, scooting the far side to allow John some room. "What are you smiling about?" he asked.
"Hmm? Oh, nothing." He looked out the window, trying to distract himself from Sherlock's gaze.
Sherlock watched him intently. "Tell me."
John started to blush, "I don't want to."
Sherlock titled his head. "Really John, just tell me. I won't react in any way."
John took a breath, "I was smiling about last night."
"Oh." Sherlock quickly looked away with a stone expression. "What about last night?" he inquired, wondering which part specifically could but such a silly smile on his blogger's face.
"When you climbed into my bed."
Sherlock felt a blush rising to his cheeks. "Oh. Well. Good. Alright."
John turned away from him again. The tension growing between them once more. He cursed at himself for bringing it up again.
Sherlock shifted uncomfortable. "John... about last night.. it was.. well. It was nice." he bit his bottom lip, looking out the window and refusing to meet John's eyes.
John looked at Sherlock out of the corner of his eye, trying to see if he was looking at him or not, "I... uh, yeah, it was nice." He returned to looking out the window.
Sherlock finally looked at him, hesitantly stretching his hand out to rest it on John's forearm. "I'm glad I could make you feel better."
John looked at the hand Sherlock had placed on his arm. He followed it up to his face before giving Sherlock a smile, "Thank you."
Sherlock watched him. "Yes... you're welcome. If.. in the future, you ever need anything like that, don't hesitate to ask."
John nodded, "Okay, thanks."
Sherlock waited for him to say something more but that seemed to be the end of it. "Right." he said quietly, drawing his attention back to the window.
"I want to go out to dinner tonight." John suddenly blurted out.
"Alright. Where?" he looked at John curiously. It was an out of the blue statement but not entirely strange.
"There's this Italian place off of Abbey Street, I saw it from work one night."
"What's the occasion?" he asked. When they went out they stuck to their usual places, never trying anything new.
"I-uh, I-I..." John stuttered, "Does there have to be an occasion?"
Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "I suppose not. But we never try new restaurants."
John shrugged, "I wanted something different."
"Are you alright?" he asked, there was something strange about the way John was acting.
John frowned, "I'm fine. Why? What have I done?"
"You're acting strange." he said.
John inwardly cursed at himself, trust Sherlock to pick it up. He let out sigh, "I know I am."
"And why is that?" he asked in an uncharacteristically gentle tone.
"Because of you." John huffed.
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Yes, that makes perfect sense, thank you John." he replied sarcastically.
"You're a genius, work it out."
"Sometimes things having to do with you completely elude me." he sunk down in his seat. "Is it about last night again?"
"Yes," He muttered under his breath.
"John, whatever it is about last night that's making you like... this, tell me." he said. "I don't want to do it again if it made you so uncomfortable." of course last night had been a bad thing. Nothing about Sherlock Holmes and John Watson curled up in a bed together could have a good outcome.
"That's the thing." John sighed, "It didn't make me uncomfortable. I liked it."
For once Sherlock didn't know what to think. It only lasted two seconds, but his mind went completely blank. He stumbled over his next words, sounding like someone who had just slammed their hand down on the keyboard. He sighed, clearing his throat. "You- You liked it?"
"Of course I did, you git." John smiled at Sherlock, "And I-I... well, I would like to do it again..."
Sherlock swallowed the lump in his throat. "..you want to sleep with me?" his choice of words never occurred to him, he was already imagining long nights and late mornings just curled up next to John.
"I-uh, well..." John sighed, "Yes,"
Sherlock nodded slowly. "Alright." he kept his eyes forward, not wanting to see the reaction on John's face.
John's mouth dropped open, "What?"
Sherlock fought the smile tugging at his lips. "I wouldn't mind spending another night in your bed."
"Oh..." John tried to stop the blush creeping up on his face, "Okay then,"
"What does this make us?"
John glanced at Sherlock, puzzled, "What do you mean?"
He tilted his head. "Two grown men, sharing a flat, sleeping in the same bed, very closely I might add."
"Uh..." He frowned "I'm not sure what that makes us."
Sherlock fidgeted. "You want to sleep in the same bed with me platonically?" he asked. Anything having to do with relationships and emotions were always a challenge.
John quickly shook his head, "I want us to me more than that." He murmured, looking away from Sherlock.
"So... boyfriends?" he sounded like it was the first time he'd ever spoken the word aloud.
John smiled, "I think I'm a little old for that term,"
"Yes, of course. Um..." what were they then? Sherlock absolutely refused to use the term 'lovers', and partner sounded... not right. They weren't married. They were just them. John and Sherlock.
John looked over at Sherlock, "We don't need a term for our relationship. Not yet anyway."
Sherlock fiddled with is fingers in his lap. "What are you going to say when people ask, then?"
"I'm not sure. Let's just hope they don't ask."
"They will. People always talk. Especially about us."
John sighed, "Yeah, they do, don't they?" He shook his head, "I still don't know."
Sherlock looked at John, hesitantly reaching a hand across the empty space to hold John's.
John looked down at their hands before trailing his eyes to Sherlock's face, giving him a smile.
Relief swept over him when John didn't pull his hand away. So this was okay then. Good. "We.. we don't have to go to the morgue. I know you don't like it."
John smiled at Sherlock, "I have nothing else to do today..."
"You've got to do the washing, clean, get the groceries and there's probably more."
John smiled, "I did all that on the week-end while you were at the Morgue."
Sherlock brightened. "Oh. Excellent."
John tightened his hold on Sherlock's hand, "You're welcome."
Sherlock smiled. "I'll only be an hour, hour and a half at the most, then we can do whatever you want."
John smiled, "I'd like that."
"Good. We're almost there." The detective's mood had skyrocketed now.
John didn't care. He was quite happy here, talking to Sherlock and holding his hand.
Sherlock leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and rubbed small circles into the back of John's hand with his thumb. This wasn't bad. It was boring, a little dull, but there was something nice about it.
Chapter 2 coming soon.
Reviews much appreciated :)
