I can't keep it inside
"Why would you do something like that Mycroft? It's irrelevant, unnecessary and just causing problems, and furthermore I am not even dead and I never really died."
Sherlock can't believe how insane Mycroft is by sending John the letter Sherlock wrote in case he really would have died back in Serbia. He also can't believe how foolish himself was for not burning it as soon as he got back or at least he could have taken it away from Mycroft.
"It was about time, Sherlock. He needs to know." Mycroft smiled his triumphantly, devilish but at the same time concerned smile.
"It's your fault our friendship will break. I blame it all to you." Sherlock is shaking his head, letting out a heavy sigh and thinking about whether he can make it in time, if he calls a cab and goes back to 221b as fast as he can to take away the letter. "Why would it break your friendship? What did you write?" Mycroft's grin widens and Sherlock can see that he is clearly enjoying his behavior.
"You know exactly what it says in the letter," Sherlock barks, puts on his coat, turns his coat collar up and leaves the Buckingham Palace with large steps. As he walks out he can hear Mycroft shouting innocently, "It's been one year since Mary is gone. It's like an anniversary."
John, don't enter 221b when you're off work. Some of my experiments went wrong and the whole flat smells of dead humans. - SH
John hears the beep of his phone when he just enters the sitting room and takes off his jacket. He reads the text and frowns in confusion.
What do you mean? I don't smell anything. Where are you? - JW
John walks into the kitchen and it still looks like the day before with some unfinished experiments of Sherlock and some leftover food. He doesn't smell anything and when he opens the fridge there are surprisingly no human body parts in there. He goes back to the kitchen table, lies his jacket on one of the chairs, puts his keys on the table and that's when he sees a letter - with only "John" handwritten on it - and that's also when he gets the next beep.
Don't touch anything of my things; I am serious. You better wait for me until I come home. - SH
John reads Sherlock's text but doesn't answer back, instead he opens the letter in curiosity. He goes back to the sitting room and sits down on his armchair while he begins to read.
Dear John,
if you are getting this letter I am probably unfortunately dead. Hopefully it was a dramatic dead; something extraordinary. I never expected a long life and I particularly never expected having a friend in my life. John, you are my best friend and that's why I am going to over think everything I write because I want my words perfectly chosen and truthful.
I was always honest with you John, but sometimes I just didn't tell you the whole of it.
You are the one who knows me the best and you also know I am not good at things like this. Sentiment. Unimportant.
The time I first met you I never thought anyone is going to be as important to me as you are to me.
Believe me when I say that you are the only person I genuinely like.
I hope I died to save you. I hope you won't be as sad as I would be if you had died.
I apologize for leaving you, but I know you can carry on without me. You will find a woman and get married and you will settle down somewhere and get lovely children.
I really hope you won't forget me and you will sometimes come visit me at my grave. Maybe you will also tell your kids stories about me; about Uncle Sherlock; about our adventures.
I never really wanted to leave you. I never wanted you leaving me. But right now I am here writing you this, knowing that I may die.
I would have talked to you about this; I would have told you.. but I can't..- because there is so much more to say.
Like I said you know that I never do things like that. Feelings. Human error. Caring is not an advantage as Mycroft would say. He will probably talk to you about this. He will probably be the one giving you this letter. I know he is going to look after you. I told him he should do anything for you, what he would have done for me. That's why I know you will be safe.
Remember when you said the last thing you would say if you were dying were "Please god let me live"? The last thing I want to say is "I care for you. You matter." I normally don't really care about people, you know. I don't let feelings control my body. It means you're weak. It means you're breakable. People do say that broken people can be fixed. That they can break because of loss or rejection but that they can get fixed by friends or with love. Even though I don't believe that, I believe that you have fixed without even being broken and that in a way I never thought it would be possible. You made me feel human and I didn't like it - I really did like it.
I am fragile.. because you showed me how to feel things and I am so afraid about this John. But I know you would show me how to handle this. You showed me your world with all the feelings and humanity and I showed you how to look through all this and how to see the world as it really is.
We did complete each other, didn't we? I don't believe in Soulmates but I believe that maybe we were made for each other.
John I am digressing. There is only one thing I've always wanted to tell and still want to tell..
Well.. you know how I feel about love. And you now how I can tell if someone is cheating with their partner or if they truly want to spend their whole rest of their life's with them.
To be honest I thought and hoped we could be together until we were grey haired and wrinkled and maybe we would have worn glasses as well. I hoped we would have shared a story.
John, I never felt love or desire over someone but when you came into my life something changed and even though I don't really know what it was - and I really don't like not knowing - but it feels like what people say about love.
I may can observe other people but I can't observe myself.. and I also stopped observing you because you deserve so much more than being just an object you can look through.
I would say that I may be in love with you but it feels so much more than that. Love is just a word and people describe it with other words and telling you "I love you" would not be enough for me.
I know you don't feel the same way as I do and besides you are way too good for me and I'm not even worth being loved by anyone, but I just wanted you to let you know this.
Please don't hate me and remind me as something positive in your life but maybe that's too much to ask for.
I want you to be safe and to have a good and happy life.
I'm glad we met.
Goodbye John Watson.
William Sherlock Scott Holmes.
Sherlock rushes up the stairs the time John finishes the last sentence while a single tear rolls slowly down his cheek. John wipes the tear away with the sleeve of his jumper and looks up to see Sherlock standing in the door frame with a terrified face. "John." Sherlock stares. He wants to run away but his legs won't work so he just stands there in the door frame his body tense, unable to move."Sherlock." A shiver runs down Sherlock's spine and John gets up from his armchair and walks towards Sherlock until they are only a few inches away from each other and John has to look up to meet Sherlock's eyes. Blue and green and they are shining and he sees the blurred ocean in it. There is also this little brown dot in his left eye and it reminds him of Sherlock how he said "There is always something" and it's like a little mistake his creators made and it makes it even more perfect and he seems so vulnerable at exactly this moment.
"Was it really you who wrote this?" John says jokingly and he searches for answers in Sherlock's eyes.
Sherlock looks down to the floor and his cheeks are blushing lightly. "Yeah. Mycroft should have given it to you if I had died. I'm sorry.. I didn't.. I never wanted you to read it if I am not even dead. It was... I'm sorry." Sherlock's cheeks are blushing even more and a pinkish red color appears brightly on his cheekbones and it's the cutest thing John had ever seen in his entire life and he decides that he is going to try to make Sherlock blush whenever he is able to, so he can see this marvelous color more often. "I never thought you were such a poetic," John giggles nervously not knowing what else to say. Not knowing if he is allowed to kiss him. "John." A sad sigh escapes Sherlock's mouth and it makes Johns heart ache.
"Everything.. What it says.. It's.. It's all true.. I mean it." Sherlock still looks at the wooden floor not able to look John in the eyes. "I know.. I.. I just don't know what to say.. I.. May I kiss you?" Sherlock looks up rapidly with a shocked expression on his face. He stutters, "What? But.. But why would.. You don't.. You don't have to.. I mean I would like to, but.. it doesn't mean anything to you and.. and I don't want you to.. I don't..-" "But I do want to. I insist." Sherlock freezes. "You.. You do want to? To.. to kiss me?" "May I?" John asks again already moving his head upwards making the space between them smaller. "Yes," Sherlock manages to say as he shuts his eyes and John closes the gap between their lips.
Their soft lips are pressing against each other and when John begins to nip at Sherlock's bottom lip he parts his lips so his tongue can slip through in his mouth. Sherlock is unsure what to do so he follows John's lead and when his tongue licks the inside of his mouth he does the same with John's. John had kissed many women before and occasionally men and even though Sherlock isn't that good at kissing - he is a beginner though - he likes it more than all the other kisses he shared before.
When they both need to breathe they break away and lie their foreheads together gasping for air. As soon as John is able to talk again he says quietly, "You know.. I do.." Like you too? Love you too? John doesn't want to tell Sherlock he loves him because he knows it isn't enough. It's so much more and he always knew that. He clears his throat and says huskily, "I do care for you."
He strokes his back with both of his hands and Sherlock nods slowly against his forehead.
"But what about not being gay," Sherlock asks with a small smirk. "Maybe it's called being bi," John laughs quietly.
He smiles at Sherlock holding them close together but when he hears a giggle far behind them, he pushes him away awkwardly to see Mrs. Hudson at the end of stairs chuckling in her right hand, saying more to herself as to them, "Finally." Mrs. Hudson is already disappeared into her flat, before one of them can react.
Sherlock looks John directly in the eyes and they both begin to laugh at the same time.
They walk out of the door frame and Sherlock closes the door behind him and puts off his coat, dropping it on the floor, asking shyly, "So you are not angry then?" John shakes his head dryly. "As long as you are staying this time. I wouldn't survive loosing you again." "I won't leave you, I promise." John goes back to kiss Sherlock again, pushing him against the closed door and this time he can feel Sherlock's lips harder on his and more conscious about what he is doing and they end up biting and rubbing against each other.
John could feel his cock hardening in his tight pants already. "Alright?" he moans while pressing wet kisses at Sherlock's throat which is fortunately not covered with his scarf. Sherlock whimpers and could barely nod. "We don't have to go this far, if you don't want to. We don't need to." John looks up stroking the arm of Sherlock whose eyes are shut closed and he whines, "Don't stop.. please."
'I just made Sherlock Holmes beg. He wants me not to stop touching him,' John thinks overwhelmed while he starts unbuttoning Sherlock's dress shirt.
He never assumed something like this would ever really happen. John always thought jerking off while imagining Sherlock is the one who gets him to his climax would be the furthest he got.
"Bedroom?" John asks him once he gets to the last button. "Yeah", Sherlock whispers, his eyelids are fluttering.
John tosses his shirt at the ground and removes his own jumper as well.
He pushes Sherlock backwards through the kitchen to his bedroom while he sucks him a mark on his neck. They stumble onto Sherlock's bed and John thrusts against him, biting his shoulder mildly.
Sherlock lets out a loud groan and John never thought he would be able to make such admirable noises like this and he clearly enjoys that he is the reason of his reaction.
His mouth reaches up for Sherlock's ear and he is nibbling at his earlobe while his hand are playing with Sherlock's curly, soft and already tousled hair.
Sherlock's large hands are wandering from John's shoulder blades down his spine onto his arse and he let them rest there, cupping both of John's cheeks.
The shorter man kisses a trail downwards the torso of the taller man while he is brushing the sensitive nipples of him with his thumbs.
John goes up to lick at Sherlock's left nipple endearingly and he squeezes John's butt cheeks slightly.
"You sure about this, love?" John puts his hands on Sherlock's pelvis and when he lies his face down on his crotch Sherlock lets out a "John".
The detective's head twists from the left side to the right and back to the left, his hands scratching John's back and his breath comes uneven.
"I've never done this before.. but.. but I trust you."
John places himself over Sherlock holding himself up with his underarms.
Sherlock looks up directly to John, both of their eyes filled with pleasure and lust and John kisses Sherlock with passion. His hands travel from the sides of his upper body to his waist slowly and teasingly.
"John, please." Sherlock gets out with a high pitched voice against Johns mouth.
"I will take care of you," John says, bites his bottom lip aroused by the fact that Sherlock trusts him and begs for more and Sherlock never saw John biting his lips and it's the sexiest thing he has ever seen.
John grins as he sits up and sees Sherlock's pale white body splayed out on his bed sweating and trembling, his dark brown hair sticking messily on his head and his lips are swollen red from kissing and the pupils of his eyes are dilated.
He unzips Sherlock's belt and removes his trousers along with his pants.
Sherlock's flushed hard cock springs free against his stomach and drops of pre-cum are leaking out.
"Gorgeous," John whispers, licks his lips and kisses the head of his cock feeling the salty taste of semen on his lips.
Sherlock's back aches, his hips buck up and his hands are clenching John's blond, gold, greyish hair and he tugs it when the older man takes the tip of his head in his mouth and begins to suck gingerly. John keeps Sherlock down with one hand on his thigh while he massages his testicles with the other hand.
"Oh God," Sherlock's voice is ragged and he lets out a whimper when John begins to bob his head steadily. He throws his left arm up on his face to cover his eyes and his right hand is clinging on the white sheets of his bed.
Sherlock cries out when John takes his full length in his mouth and buries his nose in his dark pubic hair, feeling the smell of expensive soap and Sherlock's individual scent that reminds him of home, tickling in his nose.
He sucks at his cock a few more times, tastes more of Sherlock's come on his tongue and releases him afterwards to lick along his shaft.
John hums against Sherlock's groin and when he hears Sherlock making little cute noises he notices his own hard erection pressing uncomfortable against his pants.
He undresses his own trousers and pants and let them drop down on the side of the bed.
John inhales sharply in relieve when he holds his own cock in his hand, stroking slowly over his slit. He goes up and meets Sherlock's mouth, kissing him roughly and Sherlock can taste himself on Johns tongue and lips.
They break off and a bit of come mixed with saliva is drooling out of Sherlock's corner of his mouth and John wipes it away with the pad of his thump.
He smiles at Sherlock before he jolts against him, buries his head in his nape and grabs both of their cocks, stroking them together in a smooth rhythm.
"Jesus Christ," John cries out due the intense feeling of both of their genitals hard against each other. His grip gets tighter and he pumps faster and they can feel the heat that is cursed by their hot body's and each others sweat and it's so intimate.. - Sherlock never thought he would be this close with someone ever and John never thought he would get the chance to do this with Sherlock because if he is honest with himself, this is what he wanted since day they met.
John can feel his heart beating hard against his rib cage and he never felt like this before not with Sarah, Janette or Mary and he is overjoyed that she left him and that it was all fake even the pregnancy.
They both get to the edge of their climaxes within several minutes and none of them were saying anything, just trying not to forget to breath while John strokes them both steady and fast.
They are looking in the eyes of each other and when John kisses Sherlock's mouth very gentle because he thinks if he puts too much pressure in this kiss he is going to break and if Sherlock's eyes had been closed he wouldn't have even noticed the kiss.
"John." Sherlock lets out quiet and exhausted when he came. John can hardly hear it but that's when he hits his climax as well.
"Sherlock." John cups Sherlock's left cheek and sags himself next to him. He rolls on his side, cuddling against Sherlock and rests his head on his shoulder closing his eyes.
Sherlock lies on his back and looks up at the ceiling still not believing that this just happened.
This was sex, wasn't it? Another person was involved with him having an orgasm so it's sex then. John took his virginity.
John. His John. His John took Sherlock's virginity.
He can't imagine anyone else by his side except of John.
It was always him. From the beginning - to the end.
Sherlock waits until he can breathe evenly again then he reaches over the edge of his bed to pick up one of their pants and he wipes away the half dried come of his upper body and does the same for John. He drops it next to his bed and rolls over to his side so he can watch John who is just opening his eyes again and begins to smile which quickly becomes a childish grin. John buries his face in the crook of Sherlock's cleavage and sighs happily. He stays like this briefly before he moves up and kisses Sherlock's forehead.
John wants to tell Sherlock something like "I don't deserve you" or "I love you" or "I wanted this for so long", but he can't get out a word so he just kisses him shortly on his mouth, then again on his forehead down his temple to his cheekbones and to his chin, he kisses both of his cheeks and the tip of his nose, the bridge of his nose and his closed eyelids.
At the end he holds Sherlock's head down and kisses him on his hair. Sherlock can feel John's warm kisses and the touches still linger after he pulled away.
John covers them both up with Sherlock's blanket and nestles up against Sherlock again.
They don't need to say anything because even though there is so much to say, it already is said.
Sherlock needs John as much as John needs him and the time they hold each other so close that they can feel every part of the body of each other they don't need to say anything.
They fall asleep like this and it's like falling in love; it feels so slowly but it's the exact opposite; the moment they close their eyes they drift away easily and fast.
Their legs are tangled together, their hands lie on each others backs like they don't want to let the other one go.
They wake up with their backs faced at each other and when John feels the glory golden warm sunlight tickling his face through the curtains he turns around to see Sherlock's bare shoulders.
The blanket lies on the middle of Sherlock's torso and he sees red lines going down from his shoulder blades to... He slides the blanket even more down to Sherlock's waist so he can examine the red lines more.
Some of them are going down to the small back of Sherlock.
There are a multiple lines; some are almost vanished others are still dark red. He holds his left hand to one line which is bright red and he touches it gently.
He remembers that Sherlock told him he was tortured by some of Moriarty's assassins but he never saw the results and it makes him shudder that Sherlock's beautiful pale skin was treated like this and that he wasn't there for him to save him from his pain.
He promises himself that from now on he will be there for Sherlock and never let anyone do something like this to him again.
John follows the scar with his fingers until he is at the end of it. John sighs sadly places his left hand at Sherlock's waist stroking it softly and kisses every single scar tenderly.
He hears Sherlock breathing heavily and when he finishes kissing his scars he feels Sherlock's hand on his.
The dark brown haired man turns around and he meets clear blue eyes.
They intertwine their hands and John kisses Sherlock's mouth and even though he never really liked morning kisses, he loves feeling Sherlock's lips on his and he decides he is going to kiss him at any occasion.
Sherlock parts his lips and lets John tongue enter his mouth.
He always thought he wouldn't like kissing because at the time he had his fake relationship with Janine he was forced to kiss her and he never really liked it but with John it was different and he was sure he would let John do anything he wanted to do with him because he knows John will be careful with him and he certainly will like doing everything with John, just because it's John and he even likes his bad habits and flaws.
When John breaks the kiss he cups his cheek and slowly strokes his light stubble on his jaw line and he doesn't mean to say it but it just comes out of his mouth and it sounds so normally, like it doesn't mean anything; and maybe it doesn't mean anything but perhaps it does mean everything after all.
When John says "I love you" Sherlock grins widely and it's the first time he is the one who puts their lips together. He still smiles through their kiss and he laughs, "I know. I love you too." on John's lips.
They can't imagine anything more perfect.
Well I've never been a man of many words
And there's nothing I could say that you haven't heard
But I'll sing you love songs 'til the day I die
The way I'm feeling
I can't keep it inside
30 years later.
Sherlock was right with the glasses.
They were sitting in their arm chairs - still in 221b - they weren't working anymore because they were too old but sometimes Sherlock still did experiments and John still assisted and helped him with them.
They were two grey haired, wrinkled old men with glasses and they still couldn't imagine anything more perfect than being at each other's side.
It was a usual sunny Saturday afternoon in May, Sherlock was nipping on his tea while John was reading the newspaper when Sherlock suggested, "We should go visit Mrs. Hudson on her grave. The last time we went there was almost a month ago." John looked up at his husband and smiled brightly and Sherlock still loved how his clear blue eyes sparkle when he was happy.
"You're right. Let's go and get some flowers for her too, sweetheart." "Oh, don't call me that." Sherlock tried to look upset but he failed and ended up grinning.
"I know you love it when I call you pet names." They were both laughing as they get up from their arm chairs, entwined their arms and walked out slowly from the living room.
"Sophie, do you want to come with us, visiting granny Martha?" Sherlock asked loudly when they walked down to the main door.
"And we can visit uncle Mycroft and uncle Greg in their flat afterwards," John added and the two men smiled lovingly at each other.
A young lady in her mid twenties showed up at the door frame of the flat were once Martha Hudson lived.
"Sure. Just let me quickly grab my bag." She smiles fondly at her parents and went back to her flat just to come back a few minutes later with her hand bag carried on her left shoulder.
She flicked back her light brown hair with a smile and slightly blushed cheeks.
John and Sherlock got married five years after they became a couple and another five years later they adopted a beautiful, adorable, stunning little girl and raised her up together.
They couldn't be happier for having each other even in times like this when they were old already.
Sherlock never thought he would be able to live a life like this with his John.
At the end he got everything he wanted. He got to share a story with his John Hamish Watson.
"Ready?" John asked and smirked at Sherlock. Sherlock laughed and instead of answering he just kissed him and the three of them headed out of the building.
I'll sing a sweet serenade whenever you're feeling sad
And a lullaby each night before you go to bed
I'll sing to you for the rest of your life
The way I'm feeling
I can't keep it inside.
No, I can't keep it inside.