Title: Even the best fall down, sometimes
Summary: Sherlock injects himself with Cocaine...
Author's note: I'm thinking of making this into a three-shot where John finds out, etc. Tell me what you think.
Bored.
Alone.
Sherlock slips the needle into his arm. It pierces the skin and, for a moment, it hurts - just for a moment.
Then nothing hurts, nothing at all.
He feels euphoric. He's floating high, so high, and gravity can't bring him back to the ground.
Everything is so much clearer. His senses are sharper, keener, and everything in this moment makes sense.
He feels like he can do anything, anything at all.
"Sherlock?"
John's voice is floating in the air around him. It surrounds him - suffocates him.
He can see music and hear colour.
John's standing infront of him. He's speaking but Sherlock can't make sense of the words.
He's transfixed by John's lips - the colour, the shape, the feel...
Their lips collide and Sherlock feels like he's drowning in the perfection and brilliance of it all.
He's here, John's here, they're together...
His mind is screaming that this is right, this is what's meant to happen.
It has to be.
John's touch burns, like fire against his skin, but that doesn't stop Sherlock wanting it, needing it.
What follows is filled with passion and intensity.
Fire and ice.
Lust and belonging.
God, he's wanted this for so long.
It ends and they collapse beside each other, tired and out of breath.
Sherlock turns his head to face John and frowns when he finds no-one there. Just an empty space where he should be.
Nothing actually happened then, Sherlock deduces.
"Damn." He feels like he's falling,
Down, down, down...
He crashes back down to Earth and reality and it hurts. It always hurts.
Sherlock hides all evidence of his drug use and waits for John to arrive back at the flat, which he does five minutes later.
"Are you alright, Sherlock?" John asks, heading for the kettle.
Sherlock thinks back to burning kisses.
"I'm absolutely fine, John." He lies.
I'm open, you're closed. Where I follow, you'll go.
I worry I won't see your face light up again.
Even the best fall down sometimes, even the wrong words seem to rhyme
Out of the doubt that fills my mind, I somehow find you and I collide.
- Collide, Howie Day.
