Disclaimer: I'm disclaiming anything and everything recognizable.
Rating: T
Pairing: John Watson/Sherlock Holmes (Johnlock)
A/N: SO SORRY I HAVEN'T UPDATED "A Place to Stay" I HAVE SERIOUS WRITER'S BLOCK AND THIS IS TO HOPEFULLY GET RID OF THAT. THANKS.
The door flies open, and you stride into the flat, looking a bit down trodden. You have just arrived from a date, a bad one by the looks of it. Your face is flushed, but your lips are still thin as ever. A bright red patch stains your face, evidence of physical abuse of some sort.
The hem of your jeans is damp, and lined with grass and mud. A piece of a flyer is stuck to your shoe, from which I can make out the word Hyde. A picnic is ruled out; the weather is a bit too chilly, and your pants are only damp at the hem. A walk after dinner, then.
Your fingers are shaking, tinged white from the cold outside. Specks of green spinach line your nails, your cuticles stained curry-orange. Indian food for dinner. My theory is proven right when the smell of curry and garlic washes over me as you pass by.
I shiver. The breeze following as you stride by and into your room is by no means cold, but I tremble all the same. I can pick out the subtle smell of your cologne amongst the other smells. The aroma clouds my mind.
Do you ever get these feelings, I wonder. Does your heart race, your breathing stop, your day brighten when I walk in the room? I shake my head, sure that you don't feel the same way.
I follow after you. Your door is left open, and I can see you sitting on the bed. Your head is down. I feel my chest constrict tightly at the sight of you so defeated.
You hear me, and look up. A ghost of a smile passes across your face, and my heart grows lighter at the sight.
"Come to gloat, have you, Sherlock?" A wry smile mars your face. I shake my head no. Your shoulders slump more, but you've never looked more beautiful to me.
I want so badly to pick you up in my arms. To hold you. To love you.
Pushing my feelings of hesitation down deep, I walk into the room with swift, purposeful steps. I stop in front of you, and crouch down to your level.
You look at me, confused. I raise my hands, and grasp your face. Bringing it closer to mine, I take in every detail of your face hungrily.
Looking straight into your eyes, I whisper,
"You are beautiful." You stop moving, and I feel your breath quicken.
Without a moment's hesitation, I close the gap between us, and close my lips over yours.
Months of yearning pours into the kiss. You don't respond, and I hesitate. For once in my life, I hesitate.
As if sensing my reluctance you jolt out of your shock, and bring your arms around me. A feeling of euphoria fills me up, and I smile into the kiss.
Slowing down, you pull away slightly.
"You are perfect," you whisper, barely loud enough for me to hear. I smile wider, and pull you back towards me.
I am embarrassed to feel a sigh of relief escape me, a growl of love and lust rise out of my throat.
You chuckle, and hold me tighter.
I stop myself from thinking anymore, and just let myself feel you.
Finally.
