Goodbye Mr A
"John?" Sherlock called into the silent flat impatiently. He had run most of the way back to Baker Street, the cab ride becoming unbearably long and dragging out the minutes until the detective got to see the man he loved. "John?" No answer.
There's a hole in your logic
You who know all the answers
Then there were heavy footsteps on the stairs leading up to John's room, a low thud and a muffled swear word which Sherlock grinned at as his friend staggered sleepily into the room. "Shlock...thatyoou?" John slurred blearily. Sherlock didn't think he had been this happy to see anyone in his life.
"Yes, yes it's me" He breathed. John rubbed his eyes with the back of his fist and gave him a happy smile.
"Good...was wondering when you'd be back" He murmured. "Tea?" John asked, shuffling towards the kitchen.
Sherlock smiled, not believing how long he had missed this feeling he now knew was called love blossoming in his chest. "Tea would be wonderful" He replied, following his flatmate into the small kitchen. "Did I wake you?" He asked with some concern, not wanting to start this off on the wrong foot.
He was aware that he felt entirely reborn by these emotions battling inside him, invigorated and nervous and really, truly, shit scared. Seriously, Sherlock had never been so terrified in his life. But he felt like he was changing, leaving behind his old, stubborn self. The person who never let his feelings get in the way of his life and work was now evolving into this new, emotionally developed human being who could love and feel passion and heartache like any other. It was time to bid farewell to that old Sherlock and embrace his new incarnation with an open mind.
Goodbye Mr A
You promised you would love us but you knew too much
Goodbye Mr A
You had all the answers but no human touch
"Nah, I wasn't sleeping" John shrugged, trying to hide the limp, which was the residual aftermath of his nightmare, from his keen eyed friend. Sherlock pretended not to notice, and instead kept close by John and peered over his shoulder as the shorter man bustled about setting their striped mugs on the counter and flicking the kettle on. "Been at Bart's morgue tonight then?" John asked offhandedly, feigning disinterest as he leant against the sink and looked up at the tall detective who was studying him carefully.
If life is subtraction, your number is up
Your love is a fraction, it's not adding up
Sherlock nodded with a slight frown. "Yes"
"Seeing Molly?"
The detective blushed slightly and looked away, remembering the kiss and the way Molly had looked at him. "No, not really no."
So busy showing me where I'm wrong
You forgot to switch your feelings on
John nodded, trying to hide his relief from the other man. "She's got a bit of a thing for you" He pointed out.
"Yes, I had noticed."
So, so superior
Are you not?
You'd love a little bit but you forgot
"Can't imagine why" John said, watching as Sherlock braced his arms behind him on the edge of the kitchen table and took a deep breath. The detective flexed his chest forwards unconsciously with this action, his already painfully tight shirt threatening to burst its pearl buttons in all directions.
Sherlock smiled at the jibe, admiring his flatmate in his scruffy bed wear. John was wearing blue check pyjama pants and a soft grey tee shirt which was rucked deliciously at one corner, exposing a strip of lightly tanned golden skin, besmirched with one tiny rogue mole just above his hip. Sherlock was staggered by how much he longed to touch that skin and feel the warmth of John's body beneath his hand. The taller man flexed his fingers against the table and blinked a few times to clear his head.
Goodbye Mr A
You promised you would love us but you knew too much
Goodbye Mr A
You had all the answers but no human touch
"John, I...there's something I want to tell you..." Sherlock said quietly, avoiding the other man's gaze pointedly.
"Sure, what?" John replied, raising his eyebrows.
Sherlock swallowed nervously. "Lately I've been...not quite myself" He began, but the kettle interrupted with a sharp click, indicating that the water had boiled. John smiled and turned away to fill the mugs. He began to stir the teabags in the water absently.
"You were saying?" John said, inclining his head towards his flatmate.
Sherlock cleared his throat and rubbed the nape of his neck subconsciously. "It's kind of important" He hinted, hoping John would turn around and look at him.
"Oh...right" The doctor said, setting one of the mugs on the table for Sherlock and turning back to face the cupboards.
Goodbye Mr A...
"John" Sherlock murmured, taking a hesitant step forwards and reaching out...
John didn't flinch or even take a breath as Sherlock made careful contact skin to skin. The detective curled his long fingers around John's wrist gently, teasing back the sleeve of his jumper and slipping his hand under, touching the pad of his forefinger beneath the wool to stroke John's sensitive skin. Neither said a word as the detective moved closer until his back was almost pressed against the doctor's.
Goodbye Mr A
The world was full of wonder 'till you opened my eyes
"Sherlock" John whispered, leaning back into the detective slightly.
"John" Sherlock replied, dipping his head to brush his nose against the shorter man's neck. John shivered in pleasure and expectation. Sherlock closed his eyes and breathed deeply, relishing the feeling of being close to John at last. So this was it, this was what being in love was like.
Goodbye Mr A
Wish you hadn't blown my mind and killed the surprise
He was usually so reserved, so hesitant to make contact with another human, but he couldn't get enough of John's wonderful heady shampoo and his natural distinctive scent which was purely him. He leaned in closer and held his breath as John shifted in his arms and turned to face him. There were so many questions written all over his puzzled expression. "What do you want?" John breathed, gazing into Sherlock's eyes and seeing an unfamiliar emotion dancing in his silver eyes.
There was a double meaning in the doctor's question. It was 'What do you want me to do, what do you want to happen, do you want to be with me?' Sherlock moved closer and John's blonde eyelashes fluttered as he closed his eyes and waited expectantly. "You" The detective answered, and John pushed himself forwards the last centimetre and kissed him full on the mouth. The kiss was everything Sherlock had ever dreamed it would be, slow and deliberate and wonderful. It was so perfect, and Sherlock let out a little whimper of contentment as John pulled him closer and slipped a hand around his waist. The detective lifted his arms to wrap them around John, running his hands over his sides and lower back with relish.
John frowned into the kiss, so much pent up emotion and tension was being released between them. He knew this was what he had needed, thirsted for, ever since returning from the war. Sherlock was everything he wanted from life, adrenaline, laughter, intrigue...passion. He moaned deep in his throat as Sherlock ran his tongue clumsily against his lip and nipped at the delicate skin there. John felt Sherlock chuckle and pull him closer, carding his long fingers through his soft sandy blonde hair. John came up for breath, planting soft deliberate kisses on Sherlock's lips as he pulled away.
They parted slowly, breath shared between their shaking bodies. Sherlock remained with his eyes closed in bliss, and John opened his to watch his flatmate gasping heavily, his cheek partially pressed against John's.
John moved forwards, rubbing his nose gently along the contours of Sherlock's neck and burying his head in the taller man's shoulder, stepping into his arms.
Sherlock shivered and curled his body to fit comfortably against the doctor's smaller form.
"I love you." Sherlock whispered, nuzzling John's ear. The doctor flinched against his chest at the blunt confession.
"You do?"
"Yes. I'm sorry, I should have told you sooner." the taller man replied, squeezing him tighter and kissing John's neck softly.
John separated himself from the other man and stared at Sherlock for a long time. The detective felt exposed and vulnerable, he had never expressed such emotion so openly before.
"I love you" he repeated pointedly.
John shook his head, lifting his hand and running his fingers through Sherlock's messy curls affectionately.
"I love you too" he said eventually, cupping the detective's jaw and bringing him in close for another tender kiss. They grinned at each other and Sherlock bucked his forehead to John's. The detective stroked a hand casually down John's chest and rested his long fingers against the doctor's belt. They both stared at his hand dumbly, neither knowing what to do. Sherlock hooked two of his fingers under the leather, but John flinched awkwardly and pulled away with a little gasp as Sherlock used the belt to tug him closer, nothing more.
"Look, I'm really tired, do you mind if we just go to sleep tonight?" John mumbled wearily, his eyelids already heavy with exhaustion.
"Of course, what did you imagine we would be doing?" Sherlock asked, puzzled.
John lifted his head and blushed when he met the detective's critical gaze.
"Well...you know...things..." Sherlock's face brightened in realisation.
"Oh I see. I'm sorry; I didn't know you would want to...do that just yet." He said uncertainly.
John reached out and took his hand, stroking his thumb over Sherlock's knuckles. "It's ok, we'll take this slow, and we can do all these things whenever you're ready." He said kindly.
But Sherlock knew he would never be ready. He would never get the chance to be ready, because Moriarty was right, it was coming very soon, The Fall.
Goodbye Mr A
You promised you would love us but you knew too much
Goodbye Mr A
You had all the answers but no human touch
"Right." Sherlock nodded awkwardly. John yawned like a lion and Sherlock grinned at him.
"I'd better get to bed then" John mumbled again, squeezing Sherlock's hand. "Do you want to come with me? To sleep, I mean, in my bed. Just sleep." Sherlock smiled and shook his head.
"I'll let you rest." He murmured. John frowned.
"I insist" he said with a raised eyebrow. "Come to bed with me." Sherlock was the one blushing now, a feint scarlet hue flushing his cheeks adorably. The detective, acknowledging that this may be his last chance to be close to his friend in a more intimate sense, inclined his head and accepted the offer happily.
They climbed the stairs to the doctor's bedroom in comfortable silence. John turned at the door to his room and smiled at Sherlock, taking his hand gently and leading the detective over the threshold. Sherlock looked at him as John took hold of the hem of his jumper and pulled it over his head along with his tee shirt. He didn't quite know what to do next, so John stepped forwards and laid a hand on his heaving chest. Sherlock stiffened as the doctor fiddled with his buttons and began undoing his silk shirt. The taller man studied John's chest carefully, memorising every scar and indentation on his flesh. He reached out and placed his palm flat over the ugly bullet wound at his shoulder, as though protecting it and preserving the pale knotted flesh for his eyes only. John's eyelids fluttered closed with pleasure as Sherlock's fingers kneaded his flesh gently.
The detective hummed appreciatively as John pushed his shirt off his shoulders and pressed against him. They shed the rest of their clothes and slipped beneath the covers. John had to overcome his initial shock of seeing Sherlock in his boxers. All that pale skin. Sherlock caught him looking and smiled consciously, fiddling with the waistband of his boxers. Once beneath the duvet Sherlock lay self-consciously on his back, shivering a little in his almost naked state. John did the same, neither spoke for a while.
The doctor plucked up the courage to inch his hand across the cool mattress, and Sherlock flinched as John sought out his pale hand beneath the sheets and entwined their fingers tightly. The detective smiled to himself, and rolled onto his side to curl against John. He pulled the doctor's stocky form against his chest and wound his arms around him, planting gentle kisses on his warm skin everywhere his lips could reach. John let out a long sigh as Sherlock pulled them together and cuddled into him. This was the last thing he had expected. Sherlock Holmes was many things, but John had never had the man down as a person who liked to snuggle. Never the less, here they were. John took the other man's arm and draped it over his hip comfortably, covering Sherlock's hand with his own. He yawned mightily, and soon John Watson had fallen into a deep and blissful sleep in the arms of the World's Only Consulting Detective.
Sherlock lay awake with John pressed up against him, snoring lightly and making the most heart warming little snuffling noises in his sleep. He wasn't concentrating on them though, not really. He so wanted this night to be all about John, all about the last moments of intimacy they would have, but the ever present thought of his imminent 'demise' overbore every single action and movement he made towards John. He didn't want sex, not with John, not with anyone. He couldn't do this so fast. It had to be right, perfect. John wasn't just anyone, John was the one. Sherlock was determined not to rush this. One day, maybe, after all this was over, he could come back. He knew John would be waiting for him, and that would be enough. Then they could be together.
The detective finally fell asleep holding John tightly in his arms. The sweet joy of finally being here, in John's bed, knowing the good doctor loved him, was tinged with the bitter sadness of having to say goodbye so soon. The old Sherlock Holmes was gone, and the new Sherlock took his place, the Sherlock who was utterly in love and lying with his soul mate. But he knew that very soon, that Sherlock would have to die too.
Goodbye Mr A.
Thank's for reading! Sorry this took so long, I suck at writing quickly. Next Chapter - A Sadness Runs Through Him ~K