A/N: Warning - some sexual content. If it were on film, would qualify for an "R" rating for suggestive content and talk about sex.
Beta: Jarri Scythe was absolutely instrumental in getting this chapter finished. She's the best!
Tension Makes a Tangle - 10
As we exited the building from the main entrance, Sherlock began looking for a taxi.
"Nothing left to do today, John, unless I get an answer to my ad about the cab. We should probably head home in case anyone does show up."
Once we were back in the flat I shut the door behind us and took Sherlock's hand and led him to the couch.
"Sherlock, sit down, please," I said as I sat down myself, gently pulling on him so that he sat down next to me.
"What?" Sherlock had a look on his face that indicated he was trying to decide if he was annoyed or not.
"I just want you to sit and listen to me for a moment. I know you're going through a lot right now, and I'm really sorry to have dumped a case on top of it all. And I know you think you can handle it, and for what it's worth I think you can as well. But you do need to take care of yourself, and you need to let me help you. I don't expect you to want to talk about how you feel, but if you do, I'm listening."
Sherlock was staring at me, looking extremely confused, and just slightly suspicious.
"John I -" he broke off and looked down, took a deep breath and continued, "I don't know what to say."
"That's fine; I just want you to know that if you want to talk, I want to listen, yeah? But for now I just want you to take it easy for a few hours. Take off your shoes."
Sherlock looked at me in surprise.
"Doctor's orders. Take off your shoes," I repeated.
He bent over and took off his shoes. I took off mine as well.
"Good, now you're going to lay here and rest. I know you didn't sleep well last night, so I just want you to be still and let me care for you for a bit."
While I was talking, I swiftly took hold of him and swung us both sideways so that he was reclining on top of me lengthwise on the couch. In spite of his height and surprising strength, I had caught him unsuspecting, so he was settled between my legs with the back of his head pillowed on my chest before he had a chance to react.
"There," I said, "are you comfortable?"
"I think so," replied Sherlock in a small voice.
I smiled, "Good, now just relax."
"John," he protested weakly.
"Shush, now close your eyes," I ordered firmly but softly.
He tilted his head up and looked at me, pouting slightly. I frowned back and he sighed and closed his eyes.
I began massaging his scalp, knowing that it was pleasurable and relaxing for most people, and gave me the opportunity to run my fingers through his hair. It didn't take long before he was making his contented rumbles deep in his chest.
I smiled as I continued, gradually working my way down his neck and then began working his shoulders. The purring increased slightly in volume, and I could see his toes flexing in his socks. Once I felt I'd finished I wrapped my arms over his chest and bent over and kissed the top of his head.
He sighed contentedly and put his hands over mine, lacing our fingers together.
"I feel so comfortable, I could fall asleep," he said.
"That's the idea."
"You don't mind?"
"Mind? No, it's what I wanted for you."
"Ok then, you're the doctor."
He was asleep almost immediately. I could feel the change come over his body as he completely relaxed and the rhythm of his breathing and heart slowed. Not long after, I followed him.
We slept for just about an hour before Sherlock stirred, stretched, sat up, and declared himself hungry. I was a bit surprised, but immediately agreed to his proposal that we go to Angelo's for dinner.
After freshening up a bit we set off on the short walk, arriving in just about five minutes. Angelo was happy to see us, as always and sat us at a candlelit table. I suddenly realized that we hadn't been here since the change in our relationship. From the way Sherlock was looking at me across the table, it looked as if he was realizing that himself. He gave me a bit of a self-conscious smile, and then busied himself with the garlic bread.
After arriving home from dinner, we both began getting ready for bed, in spite of our earlier nap. Sherlock had proclaimed himself tired on the way home, and I was still anxious to stick close to him. I wanted to be there in case he did get the urge to talk about what he was currently going through.
We each had a shower and soon we were curled up in bed, Sherlock's head on my chest. He wasn't inclined to talk, however, and only gave me a sleepy goodnight and a reminder that we had to go back down to visit Percy in the morning.
The next morning I awoke to find myself much in the same position as the previous morning. Sherlock was wrapped around me, his morning erection pressed firmly into my thigh. I laid there for a few minutes, trying to decide what to do. At some point we were going to have to figure out what kind of physical relationship we were going to have, but it seemed like a bad idea to experiment on a morning when we already had a commitment.
"I know you're awake, John."
"Good morning to you too, Sherlock."
There was a brief pause, and then Sherlock said quietly, "You can take me, if you want."
He rocked his hips against me; I suppose to make sure I understood his meaning. However, I had no idea what to say. I had a bit of a moment of panic.
When I didn't respond, Sherlock continued, "It's what you're used to, and I... wouldn't know what to do. I mean, I know what to do but...like you said, knowing and experiencing aren't the same thing."
I was still at a complete loss for words. Sherlock raised his head and looked at me.
"It is what you want, isn't it?" He seemed a little worried.
"Er, Sherlock," I said, pulling myself together, "it's not just about what I want. You seem to be a bit fixated on that. I can't, erm, do that without being sure that it's what YOU want as well. And, we don't have to jump into the deep end of the pool right off. This is all new for both of us. I want to be sure that we're both ready before taking that leap."
Sherlock frowned.
"Also," I continued, "I don't want our first experience to be a rushed affair with the clock ticking and a train to catch. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I was sort of hoping that it'd be special for both of us."
"Oh," Sherlock seemed a little surprised, "Alright then."
There was a pause. Then Sherlock spoke up again.
"John, will you take your shirt off for me?"
I hesitated and then said, "Ok, but you'll have to let go of me."
Sherlock instantly let go and sat up, waiting expectantly.
I sat up as well and without letting myself think about it, swiftly pulled my t-shirt off. I flopped back down on the bed and watched Sherlock's reaction.
He was gazing intently, as he does when he's concentrating on a piece of evidence. I could almost feel his eyes running over every bit of my exposed skin, memorizing every detail. Then, not content to just look, soon he was exploring with his hands.
Eventually he stopped and looked up into my face.
"I might have lost you before I ever met you," he said.
"If I'd never been shot we probably wouldn't have met," I replied.
Something flashed in his eyes, and he bent down and began tenderly kissing the wound. It was curiously arousing, this demonstration of his need and affection. I closed my eyes and ran my hands through his curls.
Finally he stopped and said, "I am sorry you suffered."
I cupped his face and brought it up to mine and gave him several long, deep kisses.
"All right," I said, "we really need to get moving."
He nodded, but took one of my hands in his and put it against his erection and held it there. He gazed at me steadily for a few seconds, before saying in a low voice, "I want you to know that I think you're perfect. And...I want to be...yours."
He gave me a quick, but intense kiss, let go of my hand and sprang out of bed, leaving me breathless and extremely aroused.
TBC...