John stirred in his bed as he watched Sherlock on top St. Bart's hospital. Sherlock was speaking into the phone, "Good bye, John." John tried to speak this thoughts but some force inside made it impossible. 'Don't leave me, Sherlock. I need you.' He started thrashing in his unconsciousness, he woke with a start. Sweating and with tears running down his cheeks John tried to slow his breath. When his breathing subsided to a normal rate, he lay on his back staring at the ceiling. He whispered into the lonely air a part of a poem; he hadn't intended to remember but did.

" I am bound by the old promise;

What can break that golden chain?

Not even the words that you have spoken,

Or the sharpness of my pain:

Do you think, because you fail me

And draw back your hand today,

That from out the heart I gave you

My strong love can fade away?

It will live. No eyes may see it:

In my soul it will lie deep,

Hidden from all: but I shall feel it

Often stirring in its sleep." (1)

Knowing full well he wouldn't be able to sleep, he got up. Deciding he would spend the morning in Sherlock's room. He went in there on rare occasion, wanting it to stay the same. He kept an old jumper pressed against the bottom of the door, as to not let Sherlock's smell out. He knew his to be childish, and probably not very affective. Still crying softly, he opened the door to his flat mates room. Overcome with the feeling of loss he began to cry even more. He shut the door behind him, wanting Sherlock and his memory all to himself. All morning he lay in Sherlock's bed, breathing in his unique scent, and remembering the times they shared. He had never believed himself to be in love with Sherlock, although he thought he was the most brilliant, brave and human-life man he had even meet, but never realized how in-love he was with Sherlock. He was always attracted to him, but never fully let himself accept it. But when Sherlock was about to fall to his death John became suddenly aware of his feelings for him, but then it was to late. It's been more than three years sense that day, but the days never seemed to bring less pain. John was rather inside himself, not paying attention to the world around him. He often helped Lestrade with cases, but he couldn't do more than two a week before he felt he would crumble.

He wanted more than anything in the world to be back with Sherlock. Wanting to wake up entangled with him. But this wasn't possible. John still had no-doubts that Sherlock wasn't a fake, and at the beginning, he had thought it possible for Sherlock to not really be dead, but as the time wore on his faith in that idea faded to almost nothing. He spent the remainder of the day reading through cases on his chair, which still sat across from Sherlock's. John had never had the heart to move any of his or Sherlock's things. Of course he cleared away his flat mates outrageous experiments from the kitchen, and on occasion tided things up, but he never really changed anything. The wall still bore the yellow smiley face and bullet holes caused by Sherlock. The furniture stayed in their same place. To an outside party, no one would think only one man lived there.

John missed the way had to force Sherlock eat during a case, missed the warm smile on Sherlock's face. Missed his scent, even missed the annoying things Sherlock did like place body parts in the fridge or asking him to grab Sherlock's phone even if it was in his own pocket. But most of all he missed the way Sherlock made him feel alive. The fact that Ms. Hudson still lived in the building gave John comfort. He knew she couldn't miss Sherlock as much as he did. After all, you can love someone so much...But you can never love people as much as you can miss them. (2)

After a day of not doing much, john feel asleep early on the couch, but awoke with his phone vibrating. It was rare for John to get calls or texts, considering they were always previously from Sherlock. The phone read Unknown Number: Come to the door. John sat up rather confused, it was likely this was some sort of trap, but sense Sherlock left him John hasn't been careful on keeping his life. It wasn't really that he wanted to die; it was just that he never really thought about death being a bad thing. If it was a trap, he might as well go to the door, or they'd probably just break in anyway. He didn't want them to wake or hurt miss Watson. He sleepily walked to the door. Opening in while a cold rush of air came through the house. Standing in front of him was his thin dark-haired flat mate. He was instantly fully awake. John thought himself to be dreaming, but he didn't care because for once it wasn't a nightmare.

"Sher- Sherlock." John stammered. There was no way this could be real but everything was so vivid. "Hello, John" Sherlock replied. John didn't care whether this was real but he did what he'd been longing to do for ages. He grabbed Sherlock's shirt just below his neck and pulled him forward. He kissed Sherlock with all his passion he had. Sherlock was caught of guard, but kissed him back just as lovingly after a second of hesitation. John pulled Sherlock inside, still kissing him. John kicked the door shut with his foot then pulled away from Sherlock. "This can't be real," he said in a hoping yet disappointed way. Sherlock just stared into Johns amazingly hazel eyes. "I promise to you, John it is real. He said. I never died, I had to pretend I did in order to keep you safe." John still slightly doubtful his to be real life, and confused as to what Sherlock meant but he didn't care. He pulled Sherlock to him again, and pushing Sherlock against the wall. His left hand going up Sherlock's neck into his hair while his right hand slid down to Sherlock's chest, feeling his heartbeat.

John now certain all of this was actually happening pulled away. "You complete fucking arise, you know what you did to me? I loved you- still love you. You went and killed yourself, almost killing me at the same time. I fucking missed you, god damn-it. Don't you dare ever leave me again. Promise you won't. I can't handle being apart from you" John yelled. "I promi-" Sherlock started to said before being interrupted but John kissing him again. John began to take off Sherlock's clothing, and moved his kissing to Sherlock's neck. "I love you too, John. I promise won't ever leave you again," Sherlock said with a slight moan in his voice. "Good", John said then resumed kissing Sherlock. John continued to remove Sherlock clothing and unbuttoning his pants. Sherlock started to do the same with Johns clothing. John led him to Sherlock's bedroom, still with their tongues in each other's mouth. John slid his hand down over Sherlock's crotch, "mmmm, holy fuck", John said feeling Sherlock's extremely hard cock. They stumbled into Sherlock's room. John didn't think it possible for him to be this hard. He needed to be pressed against Sherlock, he needed to taste Sherlock. "Wait, John. I don't think you're displaying your affection properly. I mean this s great, but are you sure you won't regret this. You don't need to do this to make me stay… Have you thought this through?", Sherlock said. "Sherlock, please shut up, I've wanted to do this for a long time."- John replied. "Okay, good I just wanted to make sure you're-", Sherlock tried to say. "Shut up" John said again. "Yes, doctor." Sherlock replied with a smile. This ordering around thing is hot Sherlock thought. Sherlock moaned as John straddled Sherlock crotch and began grinding against it. All while having the best kissing experience he had ever had. "Ahhhh fuckmejohnpleasefuckme" Sherlock said with an extreme amount of desire and need in his voice. "Gladly", John replied. Soon both men were completely naked.

John reached over and grabbed the lube in Sherlock's nightstand. First cold then warm when he rubbed in on his extremely stiff penis, him and Sherlock were radiating with heat and lust. John lifted Sherlock's leg over his shoulders. John stared into Sherlock perfectly blue eyes as he entered Sherlock. Both of their eyes suddenly bright with pleasure. Sherlock moaned John's name over and over with increasing volume with each thrust. John was having a hard time trying not to explode with pleasure, not wanting to end the best sex he had ever had in his whole life. He slowed his pace, eyes again locked with Sherlock's. He grabbed Sherlock's cock with an available hand and began to rub in back and forth the same speed as his thrusts inside Sherlock. Sherlock yelled in ecstasy, as John moaned Sherlock's name. He increased his speed; he was seeing stars and swore he could have blacked out right after every atom in has body exploded with pleasure. He came more than he had ever had in his whole life, Sherlock followed right after. It was not only the extreme levels of pleasure they felt but also the look on each other's faces as they came that made John feel perfect.

John crumbled on to Sherlock, they breathed heavily with very large smiles on their faces. "I really fucking love you," said John. "I love you too" Sherlock responded. They began kissing again, and then Sherlock rolled John over. Sherlock moaning, "my turn" as he did so. "Hold on, I just want to hold you, this still doesn't feel real. God I missed you. They feel asleep in each other's arms, sleeping with a faint smile on their faces. When John woke, he found himself entangled with John, just as he had always dreamed off. He looked over at Sherlock and watching his chest fall up and down. He moved close and moved his hand right over Sherlock's heartbeat. Sherlock began to stir, and John meets him with a good morning kiss. They stayed in bed for several minutes looking into each others eyes, and expressing their never before said feelings. Sherlock explained what why he had to make john believe him to be dead and why he had to stay away from him for as long as he did. John realized how selfless and caring Sherlock's act was, causing him if possible to fall in love with Sherlock even more.

They both got up and decided to shower, of course they did together. Which ended up lasting an hour, considering there were blowjobs and snogging to be done. They finally left the bathroom, John with a towel wrapped around his waist and one over this shoulder to dry his hair. Sherlock with a slightly open chested white bathrobe. They looked at each other with their hair wet, and eyes full of the happiness they both now felt. They simply held each other. John looked up and saw the scar on Sherlock's temple that was caused by the fall. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you." John said then placed a delicate kiss on the on scar. "Well that's splendid considering that's what I was just thinking, I love you John." Sherlock whispered into Johns ear. "I love you too," John whispered. Both breaking into a ridiculously large smile.

Notes:

(1) Fidelis by Adelaide Anne Procter

(2) Stole from An Abundance of Katherine's by John Greene (read it!)