Come Together

'Was that…?' Molly thought to herself, stopping in her tracked as she walked past the aisles of the super market. She dared not finish the thought as she quickly backtracked to look down the aisle she had just passed.

But it was. The dark, curly head visible above the rest of the people around definitely belonged to him, to –

"Sherlock Holmes!" she heard herself exclaim.

As he looked her way she felt her cheeks go pink, or, quite possibly, red. They had never really been close, or much anything beyond acquaintances. Molly watched, chewing her bottom lip as his eyebrow rose curiously. He plucked a bottle from the shelf and sauntered down the aisle toward her.

"Er, hi," she managed as he approached.

"Molly," he greeted.

They stood in an uncomfortable silence for some time until Molly managed to find her words, "Sorry, it's just… I never see familiar faces anymore. Everyone else stays in the city for the summer. Except me. And you, apparently."

"Apparently," Sherlock repeated.

"Well, what have you been up to?" Molly asked, deciding to urge them both to walking through the store.

"University. Chemistry. Doing everything in my power to irritate my brother."

Molly smiled up at him as they walked, "Right, you were always brilliant in chemistry."

She waited to be asked of her own doings since college, and when no inquiry came, she supplied an answer anyway, "I'm in uni also, in –"

"Biology and chemistry," Sherlock interrupted knowingly.

"Er, right. How did you…?"

They looked at each other for a long moment before Sherlock's perceptive abilities and his school-hood habits came to her mind.

"Right, I remember," Molly laughed.

Sherlock smirked down at her before continuing walking.

They wandered through the store together, Molly chattering about people from school they had both known. Sherlock remained reserved but friendly, even reaching for things hidden away on higher shelves unreachable to Molly.

At the checkout they parted ways, "It was nice to see you," Molly smiled, loading her items onto the conveyor belt.

"You should come over tonight," Sherlock suggested, somewhat distantly.

Molly regarded him curiously, "Why?"

Sherlock's eyebrows rose before she corrected herself, "What's going on tonight? That's all I meant."

She watched him shrug, "Nothing, I suppose. But there will be alcohol," he nodded to his basket, "And I find you… Interesting."

"Oh," Molly felt her cheeks go red again, "Well, I, okay. When?"

"Half-nine."

"Bit late, isn't it?"

"Perhaps. But by then my parents won't bother us. And then I can tell my brother to piss off without getting a smack over the back of my head."

Molly giggled, an odd reaction even for her, before nodding, "I'll see you then," she answered as she paid her bill and left the store.

It was a quarter after nine and Molly found herself half out the door of her parents' house answering questions.

"Where are you going?"

"To Sherlock Holmes' house."

Molly watched her parents exchange a look.

"What?" she demanded.

"Will you be drinking?" her mother asked.

"Maybe a bit."

"Well… Don't take the car," her father decided, "If you need to, you can call for a ride home."

"It's okay. I'll be okay to walk."

There was an uncomfortable silence before Molly relented, "Okay, I'll call."

Her father nodded and Molly slipped out the door.

The evening was warm and quiet. Molly looked on in fascination as she walked, tiny bugs swarmed about the street lights above her and at the illuminated windows of the houses she passed.

When she reached Sherlock's home she found him outside, distinguishable only by the glowing orange circle of his cigarette as it moved fluidly through the air.

"Hey," she called, trying to sound casual, and mentally kicking herself as she heard how anxious she sounded.

Sherlock drew the cigarette from his moth and nodded in greeting. He dropped the finished butt to the ground, and stubbed it out with his toe before leading her inside.

Molly followed him to a room in the corner of the house, "My room," he supplied, closing the door behind them.

She carefully stepped out of her flats as she looked around the room. Sherlock had settled on his bed in one corner, to his left sat a desk with a small fish tank; the desk's chair was piled with clothes. His wardrobe and a bookshelf took up the remaining space in the tiny room. The walls were plastered with papers and maps, the one exception being a periodic table of elements directly opposite his bed. Molly smiled when she noticed his eyes on her.

Sherlock held out a bottle of wine and Molly settled at the foot of the bed, reaching for the bottle.

They say in silence for some time, passing the wine between them. Sherlock broke the silence while Molly studied the bottle, "A wine connoisseur?" he asked.

"No," she answered, smiling, "I was just curious as to the flavours in it."

"Anything interesting?"

"Tobacco."

She watched Sherlock's brows quirk upwards before he nodded and reached for the bottle. As he drank Molly took in the boy's long, pale neck and its movement as he swallowed. She tore her eyes from him as his head went forward once more, inspecting the bottle's contents, then looking back to her face.

"Your cheeks are a bit flushed," he commented.

"Wine does that," she sighed.

Suddenly he was standing. Molly watched curiously as he circled the bed to stand in front of her. He was already so much taller than she, but her sitting didn't help matters. Cautiously, he leaned toward her, closer and closer, until his face was mere centimetres from her own.

"Close your eyes," he commanded softly.

She did, and as soon as she had, Sherlock's lips pressed gently against hers. They lingered, waiting for her, and as she felt him move away, Molly lunged forward and returned the kiss.

It was slow and sweet. Molly shivered when she felt Sherlock's tongue press gently at her lower lip. His hands were cupping her face, tenderly lifting her lips up in reach of his own. Molly's hands moved to cradle his, her fingers brushing his wrists. She opened her mouth, allowing his tongue to dance with her own and Sherlock groaned softly.

All too soon Sherlock had pulled away. Molly fought to open her eyes, to take her hands back. She looked up in awe at the boy she had known for years but never really knew.

Molly watched as Sherlock straightened his back. His lips were darker, slightly swollen; his eyes were bright, pupils dilated. A slight flush had crept across his cheeks. He seemed to move extremely quickly as he spun around and moved to sit at his desk chair, on top of the clothes. His breathing was fast

"Are you drunk?" he asked.

Molly started, confused. His tone wasn't accusatory, it was curious and desperate.

"No," she answered truthfully, "I mean, I wouldn't drive, but that's… Safety first and all that."

Sherlock nodded before speaking once again, "In school I wanted you. But you were so small… And I tried to convince myself that I didn't need physical intimacy. Or contact of any sort. And then in uni I broke down and I slept with people. I fucked people. And I forgot about my crush on you. Until today when you called my name and I saw you again. And you're still small, delicate. But I won't hurt you. Because you've fucked people too – although you probably use a more romantic term. And I want you. And I want you to want me."

The words sounded odd, beyond what she knew to expect from him. He didn't sound as though he had finished speaking, but nothing more came from his mouth. Molly's head was spinning. Crush? Sherlock wanted her? Sherlock Holmes. Crush. He was looking at her expectantly.

"Crush?" Molly repeated, not wholly trusting her ears.

Sherlock buried his hands in his hair in frustration before answering 'yes.'

Molly felt a smile creep uncontrollably onto her face, "Now I'm glad my brain-to-mouth filter stopped working today." She marvelled at the sight of Sherlock's head jerk up at her words.

"I… Everyone wanted you in school, Sherlock. And I had forgotten my… Crush until today as well. But even if I had never wanted you, that kiss would have convinced me."

Sherlock smirked at her words.

"And you won't hurt me. I'm just worried about your family being here."

Sherlock's body twisted about and Molly's eyes followed. From desk drawer he pulled a condom free from a ribbon of them and he spoke, "My parents' room is upstairs on the other side of the house. Mycroft has decided he had better ways to spend his time and left this afternoon."

He stood and walked to stand in front of Molly, "Unless you're a screamer we should be safe."

A chill ran down Molly's spine as Sherlock ran his finger from her temple down her neck.

"Are you a screamer, Molly?"

Molly smirked, feeling on cloud-nine, "I can keep it under control."

She grinned at Sherlock's grin.

Molly lay naked above Sherlock. His head was resting on a pillow; his legs were stretched out before him, pushing his blankets to the foot of the bed. His arms were wrapped around Molly's body, pushing her breasts to his chest. She could feel his cock hardening against her as his lips sucked her tongue into his mouth.

A shiver ran through her body as Sherlock's arms began to drift down her back. She heard herself giggle as he kneaded her buttocks, pulling them apart playfully. His fingers danced across her cunt and she heard his approving hum upon discovering just how wet she really was.

Molly's mouth fell open as Sherlock pushed a long finger inside her, reminding her that this was real. She sucked a retaliatory mark into the skin at the side of his neck as his fingers probed, finishing it off with a bite. Sherlock gasped and looked into her eyes, making Molly grin.

Molly whimpered at the slight loss of his finger as Sherlock withdrew, returning his arms to hold her torso to his and suddenly she was on her back beneath him. She propped herself up on her elbows as Sherlock drew away to kneel between her legs. She stared unabashedly, her eyes caressing Sherlock's lean body, wonder filling her thoughts as she discovered muscles in his chest and abdomen. Finally her eyes took in his hands carefully opening the condom packet.

She knew his eyes were fixed steadily on her as he pushed the condom over his thick cock. His hands paused at his base and Molly's eyes flicked up to meet his, nodding slightly as they held one another's gaze. Then his body was covering Molly's. Their mouths met sloppily, desperately, and Molly felt Sherlock's arm moving between them. Then, he was pressing at her entrance. Sherlock broke away from Molly's mouth, watching her face as he pressed inside her body.

Molly bit her lip and wrapped her arms more securely around Sherlock's neck. She savoured the gentle stretch his body created in her own. Dimly she heard him murmur her name, sending a shiver down her spine. He held still within her until Molly impatiently wrapped her legs around his hips. The movement pressed Sherlock deeper, causing the man to groan loudly.

"And you were worried about me," Molly joked breathlessly.

"Stubbed my toe," he responded quickly as he began to move.

His pace was quick and hard, and was encouraged, Molly could tell, by her soft moans. The sensation of his cock filling her over and over again was delicious, but not enough to get her off.

She let her hand drift down her body and began rubbing her clit in time with Sherlock's increasingly erratic thrusts. His cock brushed her fingers on every in-thrust.

Soon they were falling. Molly's cunt clenched around Sherlock who's hips stuttered as he emptied himself with a muffled groan, his teeth digging into Molly's shoulder.

Molly whimpered once more when Sherlock carefully withdrew from her body. Her eyes followed his glorious body as he moved from the bed to deposit the condom in the bin next to his wardrobe, then return to the bed. He flopped down gracelessly beside her and turned his head to press a kiss to Molly's temple.

Gradually, Molly's breath returned to her. She could tell from the breaths she heard from Sherlock that his was regular, too, or at least near regular.

"I'm torn," Sherlock muttered absently.

"How?"

Sherlock shifted to his side to speak. Molly turned her head and caught his eyes skimming her body thoughtfully, "I want to bury you under the blankets and keep you all to myself until you have to leave. But I also want a cigarette."

Molly smirked and sat up. She pulled the blankets from where they had crumpled at the foot of the bed and covered her body with them.

"Well, whatever you decide, I'll be cuddled up right here," she sighed, pulling the fabric over her head.

She had to stop the loud squeal she wanted to make when Sherlock dove under with her.

Notes

This is the first in a series that I've written, all of which are inspired by Beatles songs, specifically song titles (don't worry, you're likely not missing Beatles symbolism). I just looked for song titles with which I could work.

There is a wine (likely others, too!) with tobacco used as an ingredient - Graffigna. It is Argentinian if you are interested in trying it and are old enough to try it (feel like I have to say that).

Obviously I don't own the characters. Not all the installments will me M/E rated and will be their own separate story, not chapters.

You can find me on Tumblr under the same name, elsiebubbles where I'll try to keep everything updated regarding this story!

Thanks! :)