Disapproval
For days, Sherlock only thinks about John. He thinks about being nicer and more considerate to John. He thinks about being John's friend. He thinks about asking John for help if he needs it. And he thinks about what John did.
John says he's sorry pretty much every day in different ways. He does whatever Sherlock needs, he makes Sherlock dinner even though Sherlock won't eat it. it's very much like when John initially screwed up, only this time Sherlock says thank you and John smiles.
Their routine of friendship falls quickly back into place, but it hurts for both of them. It hurts John that he can't just kiss Sherlock whenever he wants, and it hurts Sherlock that he doesn't really want John to do that. He feels so much anger towards John still.
Sherlock tries his best to push the anger away and not take it out on John. He wants to be John's friend, but at times it is difficult because of the anger. When he feels especially angry, he locks himself in his bedroom and thinks about why he's angry.
John betrayed me, he thinks. John kissed someone else. You weren't enough for John. John found someone else. You don't want John to want someone else, you want John to want you. Sherlock thinks that over a minute. John doesn't want anyone else. John does want you. John wants anything to do with you, even just to be your friend. John wants to sit here and make you tea and buy you dinner and wash your clothes, even though you don't ask him to. (Ok, Sherlock thinks further into his head, you ask him for the tea and the laundry. But the dinner is unnecessary for many reasons). Sherlock grabs his bouncy ball and begins to throw it against the wall.
John hears the faint sounds of the bouncy ball hitting the wall and wonders what Sherlock is thinking about. He throws the ball when he needs to think very hard, John knows that, so he decides to so what makes him think the most: take a shower. He makes the water hot and steps under, standing for a few minutes before grabbing Sherlock's body wash and using it.
The scent of Sherlock's body wash makes him think harder. I want Sherlock to be happy, he thinks. I want him to be comfortable with me, even if he's not with me. But I do want him. John absent mindedly rubs the body wash over his cock. I wonder what he's thinking about. How much he hates me, probably. How much he wants me to leave him alone. How much he doesn't care about me. John pouts and continues to shower.
Meanwhile, Sherlock bounces the ball against the wall and continues to think. I don't like what John did, Sherlock thinks. But many people in relationships get over far worse. Married couples get past intercourse cheating. John and I aren't married, we weren't even officially…boyfriends…and all he did was kiss someone. Sherlock pauses the ball throwing when he hears the shower turn on. He begins to throw it again. John must need to think, too. Sherlock falls back onto the floor and stares at the ceiling. "Why must this be so difficult?" he asks the ceiling.
John continues to wash himself for far too long. He doesn't even notice he's still rubbing Sherlock's body wash on himself until he reaches for his cock again and finds it erect and wanting his attention. He looks down at himself. "Fuck," he says out loud. "I want him so bad."
John's thoughts trail to the person he wants so bad in the way he wants him. It's been eternity, it feels, since John's had sex. He hasn't even wanted to masturbate, the desire for one person hurting him so badly that he didn't want even himself.
But now, equipped with Sherlock's body wash and the tiniest bit of hope, he thinks about Sherlock's body. His long, sleek body, full of curves and angles everywhere. But John thinks about how well all of Sherlock's odd features fit him and make him beautiful. Nobody looks like Sherlock, nobody, and the uniqueness makes him incredibly sexy. When they were together, going out in public with Sherlock meant people looking at someone who was exclusively his, and John gloating to himself, "Yes, I get to fuck him and you don't!"
John looks down at the hand on his erection as if shocked it's there. He wishes it was Sherlock's hand. His thoughts trail back to a time months ago when Sherlock surprised him in the shower and finished him off right there under the spray, never saying anything, never making any noise, just stroking roughly and with care. The memory makes John tightly close his eyes and bite his lip.
Sherlock's thoughts begin to trail off to nothingness, but after a while he becomes aware that John's been in the shower an awfully long time. I've stopped thinking about all of this, surely John must be, too. What could he possibly be—Sherlock stops his wondering and realizes what John's doing in there. His curiosity gets the best of him, making him rise from the floor and go to the bathroom. He stands outside the door with his ear at the wood.
For a moment all Sherlock can hear is the spray of the shower, but once he concentrates harder he hears faint, "Sherlock, Sherlock…mmm…" over and over. He smiles and looks at the door as if he can see John through it. He wishes he could. He presses his ear to the barrier once more and just listens to John.
When John comes, he tries his best to stifle his moans, but he isn't very successful. Confident that Sherlock's in his room or elsewhere, John releases a shameless, "Sherrrrlock!" as he spills all over his hand. Very lightheaded, John washes his hand, quickly washes his body again, and turns the spray off.
Sherlock's thoughts are lost on John's arousal so much that he doesn't even open his eyes until he hears the shower turn off. Then, he jerks himself back and stands against the opposite wall, cheeks flushed and erection trying to get out of his trousers. Sherlock shakes his head and sweeps hair out of his face as he decides to stand and wait for John to exit the restroom. I want him, is all Sherlock thinks.
By the time John exits the restroom (he decides to take his time), Sherlock's erection is gone but his desire has not diminished. John opens the door and sees Sherlock standing there with dark eyes.
"Sher—" he manages to get out before Sherlock invades his space.
Sherlock's not sure what he wants to do before he crowds way into John's personal space. He takes a deep breath through his nose, smelling his own body wash on John. "You used my soap," he says.
John nods. "Yeah, I'm sorry."
"You hate that soap."
"I hate it when we're in public and I'm reminded of…" John looks away from Sherlock's eyes before he says, "Of smelling and touching and tasting and biting—"
John doesn't finish the thought before Sherlock grabs his face and kisses him. John's so surprised that he doesn't kiss Sherlock back, he only follows Sherlock's face as he pulls away. He lets out a whimper as Sherlock's face is far away from his again.
With his hands still on his face, Sherlock stares at him hard. "I still do not approve of what you did," he says.
John opens his eyes. "I know. And I'm still so, so sorry."
"I'm still very hurt and I don't know when I won't be again."
John nods. "Of course."
"I still don't forgive you for what you did," he adds.
"I wouldn't either," John says.
Sherlock slowly leans down to quickly and lightly press his lips to John's. "But," he says, pulling away. He shifts his head to the left rather than right this time. He's not sure why. He leans and kisses John again. "I want you," pulling away again. This time he lines his face up straight to John, their noses pressing right to each other. Instead of a kiss, he runs his bottom teeth over John's bottom lip, then trails the teeth marks with the tip of his tongue. John shutters and moans. "So bad," Sherlock adds.
Despite the fact that he just had an orgasm in the shower, John knows there was no possible way Sherlock doing that to him could not get him hard. He tries to push his body against Sherlock to relieve some pressure, but Sherlock holds him in place.
"We take it slow," Sherlock says. "We start over."
John nods, completely agreeing, if not just a bit disappointed. "Anything you want," he says. "I promise."
Sherlock nods. "Thank you."
"I will never hurt you again," John says. "I will never do anything with anyone—"
Sherlock shakes his head to make John stop talking. "Don't talk about it again. Do not apologize. I don't want to think about it again."
John vigorously nods. "Ok."
Sherlock kisses John again. It begins small and delicate, but it quickly turns frantic and needy. Tongues battle for dominance as each man wants to break the other to pieces.
John strokes Sherlock's back, eventually resting his hands on Sherlock's hips and attempting to pull the taller man closer to him. John wants to be pushed against the wall and wants Sherlock to do whatever he wants to him.
Sherlock pulls his mouth off John and rests his forehead against John's. He feels John's hands shift south to caress his trouser covered arse.
"I've missed you so much," John murmurs.
Sherlock nods. "I did too."
John kisses Sherlock again, just once. "Let's go to bed," he pleads.
Sherlock shakes his head. "I said we need to take it slow."
John chuckles. "We can do it slowly," he says.
Sherlock smiles and chuckles, too. He shakes his head, though. "I mean it, John. Slow." He pulls away from John and stands in front of him.
John stands up straight against the wall and wipes his lips. He nods. "I can respect that, Sherlock. I can wait."
Sherlock nods, too. "Good." He takes a deep breath. "Well…" he says, never very good at the next step.
John shifts and clears his throat, also bad at this. "Well, uh," he says, "I've got an early morning, so I should…" he gestures away from them, indicating going to bed.
Sherlock nods. "Yes, I should try to rest as well."
"Yes, you should."
Sherlock looks at John. "Well, goodnight, then."
"Goodnight," John says, stepping away from the wall and walking down the hall.
Sherlock watches him disappear around the corner and waits for the living room lights to go off before he disappears into his own room.
They both lie in bed and fall asleep smiling.
*Final update of the evening. Remember to check out chapter 9 and 10 as well in case you missed that I updated those the same night I put this chapter up.