Please Don't Go
Song fic based on the song Please Don't Go by Barcelona
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Pairing: Shwatsonlock (Sherlock x John)
Rating: T
Word Count: 989
Summary: When John, who has been suppressing his feelings for Sherlock, accidentally reveals to Sherlock his affections, he takes Sherlock's shock for anger and disgust and decides that he'd better leave. Sherlock, desperate to keep John with him, starts singing…
Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with the BBC or Arthur Conan Doyle and therefore do not own these characters. I do, however, hope to one day write music for them.
{A/N: The italics are the song lyrics that Sherlock is singing. It looks nicer than putting all of them in quotes. The song can be found here: /9rwtr}
Doctor John Hamish Watson was as straight as an arrow. At least, that's what he kept telling himself. His subconscious was telling him otherwise, especially where his lanky yet statuesque flatmate was concerned. John was proud of how he'd kept his feelings a secret from the consulting detective. Then again, as Sherlock was somewhat lacking in the emotional department, it really hadn't been much of a struggle. Sherlock had been playing his violin at the window a few hours ago, but had since put the instrument away and was just observing the comings and goings of Baker Street.
John glanced at the clock. It was getting close to 2am and Sherlock had not slept at all the past three days. John pushed himself out of his chair and placed the book he hadn't been paying much attention to on the side table. He walked slowly to stand behind Sherlock. "You should go at least lie down. You need to try and sleep," he said softly, subconsciously placing his hand on Sherlock's hip. Sherlock whirled around at John's light touch. He leaned down over John, brows furrowed, trying to decipher the army doctor's facial expression. John, misreading Sherlock's confusion for desire, reached up to thread his fingers through his flatmate's shaggy, dark curls. He pulled Sherlock's face down to meet his and tenderly kissed his lips.
Sherlock couldn't move for a full second, a slow reaction for him. When he finally realised what was happening, he pushed John away, his long, pale fingers coming up to brush his lips where John had just kissed him. He was so overwhelmed with conflicting emotions; shock, confusion, anger, desire, that he almost didn't register the look of complete embarrassment and hurt on John's now deep red face. "I'm… sorry," John choked out as he swallowed back tears. "I just… I thought… I'd better go," he practically ran up the stairs and came back down a few minutes later with a suitcase in hand, eyes a bit redder and track marks down his cheeks where a few stray tears had spilled over. Sherlock couldn't speak until he saw John's hand start to turn the door knob.
"John!" he called, taking a few steps toward his only friend.
"What?" John asked, again on the verge of tears. "What do you want? I said I was sorry, just let me leave."
Sherlock sputtered, trying to find the words that would make John stay so that he could explain himself. John turned again to open the door, when out of sheer panic, Sherlock did the only thing he could think of; he sang. It was a soft, sad song that his mother had sung to his father as his father was threatening to leave. He had memorized every word, every note, and tucked it away in the music room of his mind palace. He often went to that room when he was feeling especially lonely. The song didn't work back then, but John was not his father. Perhaps it would work now.
Sherlock's deep baritone was the opposite of his mother's once sweet soprano.
All those arrows you threw, you threw them away.
John's hand paused on the door knob.
You kept falling in love and then one day,
John slowly turned to face Sherlock. He had never heard Sherlock sing before. In fact, Sherlock had not sang since he was a school boy. He used to love to sing; he sang all the time. But the other boys made fun of him, so he stopped. He hadn't sung for anyone, not even himself, until now.
When you fell, you fell towards me.
Sherlock took another step towards John.
When you crashed in the clouds, you found me.
John's heart caught in his throat. When he and Sherlock had found each other, they were both so lost, so all alone in the world. Since John had moved in to Baker Street, he had stopped seeing his therapist and Sherlock had stopped using drugs (save the nicotine patches). As much as neither of them wanted to admit it, they needed each other.
Oh, please don't go.
"Sher…" John faltered.
I want you so.
John's breath hitched in his throat.
I can't let go,
Sherlock reached slightly in John's direction.
For I lose control.
John had seen that first hand. He had gone to visit Harry for the weekend and when he had come back, the wall was sporting a new smiley face of bullet holes and Sherlock had neither eaten nor slept.
Get these left handed lovers out of your way.
John had always pegged Sherlock's feelings towards John's string of girlfriends as either distaste or noninterest, but could it have actually been jealousy the whole time?
They look hopeful but you, you should not stay.
John backed up against the door as Sherlock moved towards him again.
If you want me to break down and give you the keys,
Sherlock was right in front of John now. He leaned forward to sing in his ear.
I can do that but I can't let you leave.
Sherlock was definitely in John's personal space now. He gently pressed John into the door. John could have easily pushed Sherlock off of him and left, but he didn't. He couldn't move.
Oh, please don't go.
John pressed his hand to Sherlock's face and held him against his cheek.
I want you so.
Sherlock dipped his head to sing into John's neck.
I can't let go,
John could feel the vibrations from Sherlock's deep, dark voice reverberate through his whole body.
For I lose control.
Sherlock placed a feather-light kiss just under John's jaw. "John…" he whispered into the shorter man's soft hair. His voice caught in his heavy, aching throat. John pulled Sherlock's face in front of his to gaze into his ice blue eyes. He reached up to kiss Sherlock gently, but firmly on the lips.
"I'm not going anywhere."