A/N I took some quotes from Sherlock S1E1 (I am not a genius or a detective) but I do not own BBC Sherlock at all. I do not own any of the Sherlock characters.
John needed a change in his routine. Every day it was the same: Wake up from nightmare, get up, make tea, remember the war, going for a walk; the same one every day, come back, open laptop, stare at blog, close laptop, make dinner, go to sleep, repeat. The only things that were different are the times he goes to his therapist and even then it is the same hour of her repeating what she has said in previous sessions, while he just sits there. John needed to change something otherwise it might not be the laptop he removes from his desk draw.
John was walking down the path heading to the park. He was tired of his routine so today he decided to change. Instead of turning into the park he continued down the street. It was a small change, John thought, but at least it was something. John was nearing a coffee shop when the British weather decided to do what it does best. The rain began pouring down and John raced (as best he could with his limp) to shop. There were a number of people in the shop, but not enough for it to be crowded. The rain was not letting up so since it looked like he would be here a while he decided to get a coffee. Once the coffee was bought he sat in a seat near the window back to the wall facing the door and looking out the window, watched the people of London pass by.
His routine hadn't changed much. Depending on the weather, or if he decided he needed a change of pace, he either went to the park or the coffee shop. Today the sky was overcast so he bypassed the park and headed to the coffee shop.
The shop was busier than usual. There was a long line for the coffee shop and while waiting decided to take his coffee to go, not bothering to chance trying to get a seat. He could already see that someone had taken his usual seat. A long dark coat was lying across the chair. When at the counter he got his usual to go. However when trying to leave his leg decided to play up and he lurched forward. Unfortunately where he fell was occupied by another person. Even more unfortunately John instinctively put his arm out to stop his fall. The one carrying the coffee, that then fell all over the stranger.
The stranger yelped as coffee was spilt down the front of his shirt.
"Shit, sorry I didn't mean… shit it's just my leg and oh god…" John was babbling.
He just spit coffee all over a stranger, hot coffee. Then John felt his leg about to give again. Suddenly he was propelled thought the throng of people who had gathered and pushed into his usual seat. Before he could say anything the stranger, the one he spilt coffee on, was gone. John just sat there stunned. It wasn't until another cup of coffee was placed in front of him that he realised the man had gotten him another coffee.
"Sorry, I'll pay for that and your shirt" John looked away and rubbed the back of his neck. Well done John he thought you've just scalded someone. Not just someone a very attractive someone. John turned back to look at the strange man. He was right the man was gorgeous.
The stranger was the stereotypical tall, dark and handsome. Yet he wasn't typical at all. The man was very pale, his hair was short curly and John suddenly had to clamp down on the urge to run his hands through it. He had a real thing for curly hair, hair that he could grab and… well. The man's suit looked good on him minus the coffee stains. It was a bit tight but that just showed off his lean figure but John was worrying if the man ate enough. But the most stunning thing about the man was his eyes. At first John would have sworn they were blue, but after a couple of seconds he would have said green, next grey. John finally decided that the man's eyes didn't have a specific colour and change just to bring the man more attention. Not only were the eyes beautiful but they seemed to be staring straight into John learning everything about him.
"No need," the man replied in a deep baritone "Afghanistan or Iraq?"
That voice, dam if he couldn't be more perfect he had to have such a god dam beautiful….wait what did he just say.
"What?" John asked. How could this man possibly know about him?
"Were you in Afghanistan or Iraq before you were invalid home" the man asked again.
"Afghanistan, but how on earth did you know that" John hissed. Who was this man? Who does he thinks he is? Was he stalking him?
"Obvious John" the man smiled at him, seemingly amused at Johns anger.
"How do you know my name?" John slammed his hand down on the table but luckily no one looked around.
"The barista greeted you and asked if you were ok when you fell." the man smirked and John felt himself blush.
"Well how did you know about Afghanistan?" John demanded. "Did someone tell you about me?"
"No one told me I observe, your haircut, the way you hold yourself, says military, your face is tanned, but no tan above the wrists — you've been abroad but not sunbathing. The limp's really bad when you walk, but you don't look for a chair when you stand, like you've forgotten about it, so it's at least partly psychosomatic. That says the original circumstances of the injury were probably traumatic — wounded in action, then. Wounded in action, suntan — Afghanistan or Iraq." The man rattled off.
"Amazing" John breathed
"Really?" the man seemed surprised which John didn't get. He must always get comments like that. What he just did was really quite brilliant.
"Yes it was absolutely amazing."
"That's not what people usually say"
"What do people usually say?" John asked
"Piss off" the man smiled then both of them were giggling.
"So what's your name?" John asked "you know my name, it's only fair"
The man gave him a look before he spoke again.
"Sherlock Holmes." The man, Sherlock, replied.
"John Watson."
John had gotten into a new routine but this was one he had no intention on breaking. He was walking as fast as he could to the coffee shop to meet the brilliant Sherlock Holmes. The man was amazing. Not only was Sherlock drop dead gorgeous but his mind was brilliant the way he could know everything about a person just by looking. He wondered if the man worked for the police but when he asked all he got was a crippling stare and the man let out an angry huff. John had learnt not to talk about work and talked about other things.
John reached the shop only to find Sherlock had, again, beaten him to it and already had a coffee ready for him.
"Why are you always here?" John asked taking a sip of his coffee.
"I could ask you the same question" Sherlock replied.
They spent the next couple hours talking. Although the topic of conversations were weird (the experiments he does, what he gets up to in the morgue (how does he get in there?), John was an army doctor ('always something' Sherlock had said.) and other interesting topics. Another topic John knew to avoid was family. He was talking (Sherlock had told him) about how Harrys drinking problem, leaving her wife had upset him and John had asked if Sherlock had any siblings. Sherlock's looked like he had just sucked a lemon. He informed John that he had a brother but didn't add anything else and from the tone John knew better than to push it.
It was nearing the time they usually parted when John decided to be bold. He wasn't going to deny his attraction to the man. He also believed that Sherlock felt something for him too. Why else would they meet so often?
"Umm Sherlock for a while now I…" John started but was interrupted by Sherlock waving his hand in front of him.
"Shh not now." Sherlock ordered. He was craning his neck looking around the shop. He did this occasionally but never told John why.
"Actually Sherlock it's kind of important" John repeated, slightly annoyed.
"I can assure you it's not." Sherlock snipped still looking around the store not noticing the hurt look on John's face.
So he know John thought he so smart of course he knows what I'm about to say and he wants nothing to do with it, nothing to do with me.
John can't say he not disappointed. There is a dull pain in his chest at the thought of not seeing the man again. He can't keep up these meeting knowing the man he was falling for did not care. It was pointless. He would get over this mad beautiful man. Eventually. Hopefully.
Grabbing his cane, John sighed and got up.
"Right," John muttered "well, be seeing you Sherlock."
With that John left the shop. As he was leaving however he heard Sherlock.
"John?" Sherlock called "John what…?"
John didn't hear the end as he was out the door and quickly managed to get a taxi back to his apartment. Once he was in he threw his cane to the floor and flopped down onto his bed. He felt terrible, already missing Sherlock with his impossible stories and rare smiles that John sometimes managed to coax out of him. He already missed him but there was no point in staying with him. All it would do would break John's heart. Eventually John fell into an uneasy sleep filled with dreams about the beautiful man he might not see again.
John managed a week before he went back to the coffee shop. He missed Sherlock. Everything about the man including the things he found disturbing (like when he said he brings body parts home.) John thought he might as well do his best to apologise to Sherlock for both his feelings and for leaving him suddenly. Maybe he would be able to stay friends with the beautiful man.
Stop thinking like that he chided. Thinking of how beautiful Sherlock was is not going to help.
He went round the corner to the street where the coffee shop is. Or was. Where the coffee shop once stood was a boarded up shop. John went up to the store to be sure but yes the shop was closed. John felt his heart plummet. He would never see Sherlock again he thought. They have never exchanged numbers, there was no need and now there was no way to meet again. If not for the times he went there before Sherlock he would have believed he imagined it all.
"Dam it what happened here?" John asked himself. He wasn't expecting an answer
"Well John," a familiar baritone replied "I could tell you but it would take some time which won't be good for your leg, I know a good place for a cup of tea."
John turned to see the face of Sherlock Holmes.
"Sherlock," John smiled "why are you here?"
"Waiting for you obviously, how else am I meant to tell you about my case?" he replied
"Case what case? And why are you waiting for me? And …" John was silenced by Sherlock's long pale finger on his lips.
John eyes crossed to look at the long pale digit and despite his resolve he couldn't help thinking of Sherlock's reaction if he took it into his mouth. To suck and lick that finger, then to move to suck and lick something else.
"All in good time John, but first tea." Sherlock smirked and hailed a cab from seemingly no-where.
"221 Baker Street." Sherlock informed the taxi driver.
"I thought you didn't work for the police?" John asked as soon as they were sitting.
Once they got to Baker Street, Sherlock being infuriatingly silent though out the trip Sherlock swept out paying the driver and went into the café that was just outside. By the time John got in Sherlock had two teas and gestured to a free table.
"I don't." Sherlock replied
"You just said that you had a case." John argued
"I didn't just say it," Sherlock smirked when John glared at him "when the police get stuck, which is always they call me."
"Then you're a consult or something?" John was confused he had never heard of a job like that.
"I am a consulting detective." Sherlock answered.
"No such thing." John scoffed.
"I made the job up."
"My point exactly," John stated but sighed when Sherlock gave him a you're an idiot stare "The police don't consult armatures"
"You're right, and I knew everything about you at a single glance, you have heard my other deductions, I'm not an amateur."
"Ok then, the case what was it?"
Sherlock face light up and he proceeded to tell John all about the case.
What had happened was that the coffee shop was actual a front for a drug smuggling operation. They had actual been doing well until a deal had gone wrong leading to a pair of dealers dead and the drugs had disappeared. What had happened was the leader had killed both the dealer and the buyer to keep both the drugs and the money. It was boring really, but the police were stumped and the leader was an expert hider. Sherlock had found that the shop was a front and knew that the leader would eventually return but had no proof and didn't trust the police not to mess up or to keep the shop under observation correctly. So he then proceeded to visit the coffee shop every day until he had proof or until he saw the ring leader of the organisation in the shop. The last time they had spoken Sherlock had just seen the leader and had to catch him or risk losing him and the man getting away with murder.
"Meeting you actually was a good thing. It gave me an excuse to be there every day," Sherlock commented but at the crestfallen look on Johns face "but meeting with you is certainly enjoyable."
"Right so did you catch the guy?" John asked perking up.
"Yes, after I chased him through the sewers and caught him he confessed everything how dull," Sherlock rolled his eyes and took another sip of his tea "I believe it is customary to apologise"
"What?" John was annoyed. He had done nothing to Sherlock to need to give him an apology.
"Last time we met, I obviously said something that upset you," Sherlock liked his lips and shifted in his seat "I am sorry but when I'm on a case I tend to forget about other things and I can be a bit tactless."
"That's ok Sherlock" John was relieved that Sherlock didn't hate him.
Still he was sure that he wasn't going to act on his feelings, he wasn't going to risk their friendship. This was what John was thinking until Sherlock grabbed his hand, and then his thoughts went along the lines of ohmygodSherlockisholdingmyhandSherlockisholdingmyhandohmygod. John stopped staring at their joined hand and looked at Sherlock's smirking face. John then looked from his hand to Sherlock dace for the next minute only to be stopped by Sherlock's laughter.
"John I find you very interesting…" Sherlock started
"Sherlock this isn't some sort of experiment is it? If this is an experiment I'm having no part of it. By now I must be your friend at least and it is not good to make fun of people like this. I am attracted to you, obviously I am I mean god look at you but if your just making fun of me or are just doing this for an experiment…" Johns rant was cut short by Sherlock pressing his lips against Johns.
"no it's not an experiment, you are my friend and now hopefully more, I wasn't sure of your attraction to me, most people are put off by my deductions but you weren't and you did check me out but you never acted so I wasn't certain, until now, I am not making fun of you, I am attracted to you and I believe we should start dating." Sherlock murmured his lips inches away from Johns
Inches to far John thought.
"Right, umm right," John said licking his lips and looking at those cupid bow lips "so were dating now?"
"Yes," Sherlock whispered and was leaning in to kiss John again before suddenly pulling away and getting up "come along John"
John had closed his eyes waiting to be kissed again; disappointed he quickly stood and followed Sherlock outside, blushing when he noticed that all the customers' eyes were on them.
"So where are we going?" John asked
"I have recently move and I am currently looking for a flatmate, move in with me" Sherlock told him.
John spluttered "we have literally just started dating and you're asking me to move in with you, isn't it a bit soon"
"There is a spare bedroom if you insist." Sherlock sighed.
"But there are rules for this sort of thing" John remarked.
"Rules, rules are boring," Sherlock moaned "you are unhappy where you are living but can't afford anywhere else. You also want to live in London. I am offering you a place to stay. You also miss the danger of the battle field and I can offer you that too, you can help me with my cases. Why shouldn't you move in with me?"
John found he couldn't answer the question. Yes it was definitely not how things were usually done but when were things usual with Sherlock. Also the excitement about the cases seemed interesting and it seemed that Sherlock needed someone to look after him. Another thought that popped into his head was that he would get to live with this beautiful man. Who he was now dating.
"Can't think of a reason why not," John said grabbing Sherlock hand "where is this flat then?"
"Upstairs," Sherlock smiled then added "will you need the other bedroom."
John looked at the man if the man was aiming for innocent he missed by a couple of hundred miles
"I don't know," John murmured "I believe I will have to check both of them to make sure there…suitable"
Whilst John was talking he was leaning up to Sherlock ear and nibble on the lobe. When he pulled away John was pleased to note the blush on Sherlock cheeks.
"Yes I believe we should" Sherlock muttered sounding dazed.
Quickly Sherlock turned to the black door next to the café marked 221 and quickly opened it. As soon they were both in Sherlock rushed up the stairs and though the door there with John quick on his heels. As soon as they were in Sherlock slammed John against the door and pressed his lips back against Johns, this kiss unlike the other was hard and rough. It was more of a clash of teeth. Sherlock put his hands on John waist pulling them close and deepened the kiss. John groaned when he felt Sherlock's tongue in his mouth and wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck.
"John…we should…really…move this….to the bedroom" Sherlock murmured between kisses.
John moaned in agreement but made no move to stop the kisses.
"John" Sherlock lifted his head, separating their lips and John then decided that Sherlock neck needed much more attention.
Sherlock writhed under John mouth and gasping and groaning. John smirked and nipped at Sherlock's neck enjoying how sensitive his new boyfriend (boyfriend, partner, lover, decide later) was.
"I told you your limp was psychosomatic." Sherlock breathed between moans.
John frowned and pulled away "What?"
"You left your cane downstairs," Sherlock panted taking a step back but grabbing Johns hand "You won't be using it again though I'm sure."
John looked around and he realised Sherlock was right.
"Why tell me this now?" John asked making his way to kiss Sherlock again.
Sherlock stopped him earing himself an annoyed pout, which he secretly found adorable from John.
"Because if I don't get you to a bedroom right now we'll be fucking right against the wall and although the idea has great appeal I would rather the first time be on a bed so I can take my time." Sherlock told him tugging John in the direction of what was hopefully the bedroom.
John mind went blank after Sherlock had said fucking against the wall. His mind was conjuring up images of him being repeatedly slammed against the wall as Sherlock fucked him roughly, pinning his arms above him against the wall as he screamed in pleasure, another of Sherlock bent over hands placed firmly on the wall giving John perfect access to his perfect arse and John fucking him until Sherlock cums moaning his name. The next thing John knew he was being pushed onto a bed followed by a very eager consulting detective.
Soon they were making out again and John could feel Sherlock's erection against his leg. John grinded his leg up causing Sherlock to break the kiss and groan. Once the kiss was broken John went back to attacking Sherlock's neck and flipped there position so he was on top. Still kissing his neck John let his fingers trail down Sherlock sides and quickly made their way to the buttons of Sherlock's ridiculously too tight shirt. Quickly unbuttoning the shirt John pushed it off as best he could and it was stuck hanging off Sherlock arms. John lifted his head and looked down at the figure below him. The man was too thin; John could almost see the man's ribs. But despite being skinny John could see some muscle on his frame which John guessed came from running around London.
"You need to eat more" John commented then started to kiss up from Sherlock navel up his stomach and then to Sherlock's nipples. The reaction was instant. Sherlock immediately stiffened and then was bucking and writhing under the assault of Johns tongue. John smirked around Sherlock nipple and brought his hand to the other. This caused Sherlock to growl and flip positions again, removing the shirt fully and kicking off his shoes, which reminded John to do the same.
"Too many clothes," Sherlock huffed and pulled John jumper and shirt off over his head. John was stiffened suddenly self-conscious. Sherlock was a beautiful, perfect man and John, he was nothing like that, he knew he was scarred and broken. Sherlock however saw all this and placed a kiss on the knotted tissue where the bullet had hit.
"You're beautiful John" Sherlock kissed his chest again "amazing…brilliant…brave…" Sherlock kept on kissing all over Johns chest, a kiss after every word and John relaxed under the touch. Sherlock smiled then dragged his nails over Sherlock's nipples and John jumped
"Fuck Sherlock" John gasped arching to the touch.
Sherlock leant down and purred into John's ear. "That is what I'm planning to do to you"
That not fair, that voice, those looks, those fingers, Christ John thought groaning as the words went straight to his cock. John hands went for Sherlock trousers fiddling with button struggling, only knowing that the garment had to go and it had to go now. Sherlock was obviously had the same idea as he was trying to remove the lasts of John clothes with equal success. John was first to mange to undo Sherlock's trousers and pushed them to his knees, shortly after Sherlock tore both John's trousers and pants and threw them to the floor. Sherlock quickly stood and took off his trousers and his pants. They stood there staring at each over, drinking in each other bodies.
Sherlock was porcelain white, his lips red from kissing. His pupils were blown. John lowered his gaze to Sherlock prick. It was longer than Johns but thinner. Before John could look at him more Sherlock climbed back on top of John and started to kiss again both of them groaning when there erections rubbed together. Out of the corner of his eye John saw Sherlock pull out lube and a condom from a draw by the bed. They broke the kiss again and Sherlock sat up between John legs.
"Do you want to top or shall I? I am fine either way." Sherlock asked.
John licked his lips eyeing Sherlock's cock and asked "Can you top me this time."
In response Sherlock clicked open the bottle of lube pouring some on his middle finger and started to circle around Johns entrance, occasional sweeping across but making no attempt to push in just yet. John groaned and threw his head back. Slowly Sherlock started to push his finger into John, just the tip irritatingly slow for Johns liking.
"Sherlock" John pleaded.
Sherlock just smiled and pushed his finger deeper into John, up to the first knuckle and started to feel around John. John groaned. He hadn't had anything inside him since his uni days and he was slightly uncomfortable. As if sensing this Sherlock stopped what he was doing and removed his finger.
"No I'm fine it's just been awhile." John gasped wriggling a little at the loss of contact.
Sherlock looked at him for a while, reading John's face then added more lube to his finger entered him again, forgoing the teasing. John tried to get used to the feeling but was still slightly uncomfortable. Sherlock saw all this but instead of stopping decided to distract John from the feeling.
"Oh Fucking hell, Jesus Christ" John mind went blank as soon as he felt Sherlock's hot mouth around his prick. Sherlock's tongue licked the head of his prick and John was lost in the sensations of Sherlock mouth and tongue working his prick. That was until Sherlock's finger found his prostate. As soon as the finger brushed the bundle of nerves John bucked his hips upwards and John worried as an afterthought that he might have choked Sherlock. Sherlock other hand had pushed John's hips down however Sherlock continued to deep throat John. The attention to his prick meant that John didn't notice Sherlock removing his finger until two were pressed inside of him, this time however John welcomed it and even started to push down on the fingers until Sherlock free hand gripped him harder stilling his movements. Soon after that Sherlock added a third finger and started to stretch John to prepare him for something larger. The joint attention to both his prick and arse meant that John was close.
"Sherlock stop, please, please I'm ready." Jon babbled. He didn't want to cum yet. He wanted to cum with Sherlock's cock inside of him.
Sherlock pulled his head off Johns prick with an obscene pop which cause john to groan and buck his hips up, and then removed his fingers form Johns arse. He tried to tear open the condom wrapper but his fingers were slippy with lube so he resorted to using his teeth earing a smirk form John. Sherlock just growled and put more lube onto his covered prick. He was just about to enter John again when John flipped positions. Sherlock was surprised at the sudden change of position.
"John what …" the question died on his lips as John positioned himself above Sherlock's cock.
John gave Sherlock a wicked grin noticing Sherlock pupils dilate even more. Slowly John lowered himself onto Sherlock's cock, wincing slightly at the intrusion. Taking deep breaths John continued to lower himself onto Sherlock's cock until he was flush with Sherlock's hips. John lent over Sherlock breathing deeply trying to get use to the sensation of being filled. He hadn't had sex with a man in years and he forgot how much it could hurt.
"Do you want to stop?" Sherlock asked concerned by the pain crossing Johns face.
John was concentrating on breathing so shook his head no, gripping tightly to Sherlock's sides.
Sherlock looked at him and he started to rub circles on Johns hips then ran his hands up and down John's sides. John sighed and he felt himself relaxing under the gentle touch. Slowly John raised his hips then thrust them down again causing both men to groan. They eventually built up a rhythm John raising himself nearly off Sherlock's cock and slamming back down and Sherlock meeting his every thrust. Sherlock then changed the angle of his thrust and John groaned as Sherlock hit his prostrate straight on. Sherlock grinned and thrust harder his that spot each time. Now all John could do was bounce on top of Sherlock prick, enjoying the sensations. He felt himself on the edge, but it wasn't quite enough.
"Sherlock, please I'm close but…" John groaned. He was infuriately close.
Sherlock flipped them over again and started to pound into Johns arse while one of his hands grabbed John's dick and started to stroke him. That was what John needed and he spilled into Sherlock's hand and onto his stomach moaning incoherently. As he came he clenched around Sherlock and soon Sherlock was cuming too groaning John's name.
They stayed there for a moment until Sherlock had to pull out. John didn't realise Sherlock had then left the room until he had come back with a flannel to clean him down with. Once he was clean Sherlock threw the flannel down with the clothes and got into bed with John. After a bit of wriggling John finally settled himself on his side looking at Sherlock.
"That other bedroom..." he began
"John it will be a while before we can check if that room is also suitable" Sherlock murmured moving closer and resting his forehead against Johns.
"Not that," John sighed as he felt Sherlock bring his hand to Johns head and running his fingers though his hair, pushing into the contact, "I mean I don't think I'll need it."
"Oh" John felt Sherlock stiffen and withdraw slightly "that's fine."
It took John a moment to realise that despite Sherlock's big brain, he too got things wrong.
"No you idiot," he smirked and rested his head on Sherlock's chest "I won't be needing it if I'm in here will I?"
"No you won't will you" Sherlock smiled and pulled John until he was resting half on top of him.
"Well this wasn't how I expected the day to go." John commented getting comfy in his new position.
"Really, I had expected this as a possible outcome to today's event, though you ridding me was a surprise." Sherlock smirked when John spluttered.
"well actually I was expecting to meet you at the coffee shop and for you to official reject me and either never see you again or just stick to being friends" John mumbled feeling himself about to drift off in post sex bliss.
"How could you think that!" Sherlock exclaimed "John you are amazing, you're brilliant, and even though you're ordinary you do things that completely surprise me. You can put up with me and enjoy my presence. You are a puzzle to me and one I will never be bored of. How could you think I would reject you, or think that I only want to be friends or worse to never see you again?"
"Well when I tried to tell you I liked you, you said that it wasn't important" John replied cringing at the memory even though he had an explanation for Sherlock's actions.
Sherlock was still for a moment as he remembered the previous conversation.
"John I must apologise for my ill choice of words at the time, I didn't know what you were saying and I was distracted by the case" Sherlock looked uncomfortable and John sat up to look at him properly.
"How could you not know I was attracted to you?" John questioned
"Feelings, sentiment aren't really my area. I will be cruel to you again John sometimes by accident sometimes on purpose to hurt you, and while working on a case I may ignore you but I do care for you, I will try to make time for you." Sherlock was rambling.
"It is fine Sherlock, it's all fine," John said "I already had an impression on you before all this I'm fine; I will make sure there is enough sentiment for the both of us."
John placed a kiss at Sherlock jaw before resting his head back on Sherlock chest.
"John"
"Yeah"
"I care for you; I don't plan on letting you go"
"I don't plan on leaving either Sherlock."
"My job, it could be dangerous"
"And here I am"
"John"
John lifted his head and glared at Sherlock and growled "what Sherlock"
"I think I love you." Sherlock said smiling at John
John looked at him surprised then smiled "I think I love you too"
They kissed again this time there was no rush or heat. It was slow and romantic. When they separated John rested his head against Sherlock's chest again and slowly drifted off to sleep to the rhythmic beating of Sherlock's heart.