Thank you dear ones for waiting.
Hoping to get to hear from you guys.
"How does it feel to be consumed by fire?"
"Extremely painful."
"Doesn't it make you complete? Being completely burned?"
"Did I complete you or did I burn you, John?"
"I feel consumed. I feel like a part of you. Like a twig would burn and become one with the fire. Completely, transcendentally."
Sherlock held John closer. There they lay, draped across each other. Consumed in each other. The moon drowned, the sun rose, people started walking the streets. They remained. Stroking, silent, in the experience of being immersed in each other. The moment of truth, they are forever a part of one another. The tranquility that settles on the sea after a violent storm all night.
Waves kept crashing on each other in the forms of arms. Warm lips brushed each other like the rising sun's caresses to the wave's surface.
This was the most serene time they had ever had with each other. They knew this could probably be the last. Both tried their best to keep the pain of the past and anxiety of the future away from these moments of serenity, indulge in only the nest of now.
Warm naked bodies wrapped in cotton sheets lingered near each other. Making tea, watching the day change color with time sitting beside the window. Allowing hot shower wash away any residual sorrow of missed time.
They touched each other, held each other close, more often than not. They slipped into each other's clothes in an attempt to live under the skin of another.
They spoke very little as words seemed unnecessary and inadequate. Looking up said 'come here', soft sigh meant 'hold me', a breathless kiss meant 'make love'. A palm pressed to a thrumming heart meant 'I love you'.
John was content, to have found sublime joy, to experience the gnawing threats looming at his heart to stop for some time.
When after another day of blissful containment John thought about going back to work, the prospect of other associations clawing at his and Sherlock's very delicate bubble of existence held him behind.
"Aren't you going to work?" Sherlock asked John standing in their kitchen. Hands wrapped around the older man's waist lightly, as hope clings to unfortunate ones, never quite gripping, never quite slipping.
John sighed. "I could take another day or two off."
"What if people come here searching for you."
"I'm taking leaves Sherlock, not disappearing without a trace." Even as John said those words aloud, his voice shook. It was certain that at some point of time people will start to intrude in their lives, especially John's. John the ever outgoing social man, what makes him cling to the curtains and doors of his flat now?
Questions will arise. Along with people turning at his doorstep.
If no one else, then at least Harry.
"I don't want you to cut people off because of me John. They'll be there for you…"
When you leave…
John could feel Sherlock swallowing down a lump in his throat.
"Can we run away?" John asked desperately.
"Sorry John. I will be found."
"By whom?"
"I can't talk about this" Sherlock said in a stony voice. The matter was impregnable.
"I can't do this…anymore." John's voice broke.
Warm hands left his torso. Blue eyes looked at him unblinking.
"Do you want me to leave, John?"
John gasped and turned away. "I…just want this to be our life Sherlock. Why won't you tell me what stops you? Why won't you let me in?"
Silence remained on the lips of another.
Slowly turning, John reached out for a limp hand hanging beside a still figure.
"Do you…do you have other family Sherlock?"
"No! no no no no no, John!" Sherlock said in a rush of breath, blue eyes pleading, gripping Jon's face in both hands.
"You are the only thing that is closest to any attachment I have in this world, John! Never, ever doubt for a second the fact that I only love you."
"Then what Sherlock?" Asked John, losing patience.
"I told you as much as I could John. Any further information will jeopardize…"
"Jeopardize what?" you? Me?
Sherlock looked deeply into John's questioning eyes, us.
John flung himself over Sherlock, gripping his clothes in tight fists on both sides. He pressed his head to a throbbing heart, muffling a sob.
"I'll do anything Sherlock. Just ask, just let me. I can…I can…"
"Lay your life for me." Sherlock said gravely, stroking his hair. "As can I for you. But how will that help us John? If we just die for each other."
Oh! How will it help! If only! He could stop breathing in the arms of his beloved, put an end to this constant fear. Be one for once and for all.
"Don't think like that John." Sherlock commanded. Sobs increased. "At least we have these times together."
"Not enough."
"Please understand John."
"I can't. I won't."
Sherlock kissed the top of John's head, gliding his lips down the soaked cheeks and further below. The sobbing man shivered. Sherlock nudged at a collar with his nose, making more space for more kisses. John lifted his head granting access. Teeth grazed across sensitive skin, making goosebumps run all over.
John knew the other man was just diverting the conversation. But God, he couldn't stop. Who knew when they'll get to be this close again. When the hands will fade away leaving behind a faint lingering glance of gray blue gaze.
"No matter where we are John" Sherlock whispered opening the buttons on John's shirt "we will always belong to each other."
John shuddered as strong arms pulled him off the ground and placed him on the kitchen counter in one swift motion. Warm lips kept teasing every inch of his exposed chest.
John let the chips fall away, opening himself up more fully. He dragged the lithe body in with his legs and hooked them around the torso. He pulled his shirt off completely and let the warm mouth venture wherever it wanted.
Sherlock understood the gesture, John was giving himself up, completely, utterly, devastatingly. His hands wandered into dense golden forests of light. Tugging to lift a chin up to forcefully take over a trembling mouth.
John's hands wandered to his own belt buckle, starting to unwrap himself fully for the man he loved.
Burning blue eyes looked at him through dark lashes, full of promise.
This time it's my turn my love.