Note: I don't own any of the characters from the Sherlock BBC television series, nor any of the characters created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
Not That - I Love You
Afternoon summer sun shone warmly through the drawn curtains in Sherlock's bedroom, a soft breeze ruffling them occasionally through the slightly ajar window. Sherlock and John were lazily lying in bed, naked.
It was just two weeks into their new relationship. John getting a totally superficial flesh wound on a case and Sherlock fussing worriedly over him had finally led to both of them having taken the courage to admit their feelings for each other.
Sherlock was still reveling in being allowed to be physically close to and intimate with John, to be allowed to touch him. And nothing in John's previous experience with women or men could have prepared him for the closeness he felt with Sherlock.
"Hmm," Sherlock sighed. "This is comfortable." He lay on his back, John snuggled to his side with his head on Sherlock's shoulder, his arm across Sherlock's midsection.
"Yep," John sighed companionably.
They were still learning things about each other in regards to the physical side of their relationship, preferences, turn-ons, turn-offs... Where Sherlock on occasion might be willing to experiment for experimentation's sake or to satisfy his curiosity, John had insisted from the beginning that they let each other know immediately any time either of them felt uncomfortable with something, didn't want to carry on with it.
"Have you ever slept with a woman?" John asked out of the blue, he'd been wondering about that one for quite a while now.
"Nope," was the short reply. John felt Sherlock smile against the crown of his head. "Why would I want to do that?"
"I was just curious. I've enjoyed having sex with women, you know. Sometimes I've wondered what it would look like if you had. ... You could touch her breasts," John's hand was sneaking up to play with Sherlock's nipple, "and then you could touch her until she's wet," John started to lick Sherlock's other nipple while his hand slid down to Sherlock's groin to touch his growing erection, "and then you could put your penis ins"
"Stop!" Sherlock's hand clamped down hard on John's, stilling his movements. "Not that!"
John bit his lip, stopped talking and stroking immediately. He propped himself up on his elbow to search Sherlock's face whose eyes were still shut tight, his expression almost painful.
When he spoke he still hadn't let go of John's hand. "I love you, John. I don't want to imagine what it would be like with other people." His voice sounded thoughtfully quiet.
John had to swallow. "I'm sorry, love," he said earnestly leaning over to kiss Sherlock's brow. He hadn't thought it through that Sherlock might not share his own appreciation of the female body.
"I didn't fully realize what it means that you're gay, because I'm bi, you know... I'm sorry. Really." He lay down as before, exhaling a long sigh.
Sherlock finally let go of John's hand and rolled towards him, to embrace him.
"You know you can talk to me and ask me if you want to know something, before you touch me," he suggested gently.
John nodded. Sherlock sensed that he felt bad and hugged him tighter.
"Hey, look at me." John looked at him. "I'm here. With you. I love you."
John marveled, again, that Sherlock was really here with him. He tried to blink away the tears that were starting to form in his eyes.
"I love you, too, Sherlock. I love you so much."
He breathed a sigh of relief, kissed Sherlock on the lips. They embraced each other again tight. John relaxed while Sherlock stroked his hair. He felt safe and accepted and started to fall asleep. Sherlock pressed another kiss on top of John's head and drifted to sleep as well.