And here's the next one for all of you. I'm hoping to end this with the next chapter but this story has done whatever it wanted so far, so what do I know ;)
Boy, I almost forgot to post it because I won cards for the Civil War premier in Austria, like how awesome is that haha
Eyes locking with the other´s John held his breath, not daring to do anything else for fear of this being a dream. It wouldn't be the first.
When Sherlock started to slowly slide closer to him so he wouldn't need to reach over so far John felt nervous. Any second now he would wake up.
Only warmth followed were Sherlock sat closer now. He felt real. He even smelled real (did he smell Sherlock before!?).
The detective graced him with a warm smile and tilted his head slightly. "Breath John, everything is going like I wanted it to. It won't go away again."
It sounded promising. Too sweet, too nice. Yet John drew in a shaky breath, starring at their touching hands. Looking down to his leg where Sherlocks touched his, warmth spreading. Into Sherlock´s eyes.
"How?" John whispered, feeling that he would burst this strange magic bubble if he spoke too loud.
The smile Sherlock had given him was still there, not changing. "In the end, very simple John."
The detective settled comfortable on the couch, their hands still locked and lying on Sherlocks leg. If he leaned any more to the side he would lean into John. Both looked down at them.
"You may recall the first time we met: You had been drinking and the second time we met I was high," he started to explain, leaving out that he had been high most of the time they met. "While having quite a lot of time at hand, these last few weeks I decided to put every fact together that I collected about our situation. And the facts were quite obvious, you must have noticed that more and more things started to disappear and appear in the other´s ... flat," Sherlock looked up at John who followed suit.
John nodded numbly, curiosity burning in him.
Sherlock replied with a nod of his own before he continued. "I also noticed that the more stuff decided to..change the owner that some things simply merged. You have to remember the table. It was the first big thing that we both could touch, yet we ourselves couldn't touch the other. Quite interesting."
He seemed to fall into thoughts after that and John let him. It probably wasn't easy laying all this out to him while having morphine running through him.
As if jolted Sherlock spoke again.
"So, my first conclusion was that all of this was heading to a certain point. What would be the point of us meeting if it was just something insignificant? Something we experienced and then forgot about. Not that I could ever forget you John," Sherlock added hastily as if John would get angry for leaving the comment out.
"To be frank: We are supposed to meet, maybe even share the flat. As much as I loath to say this, maybe we can blame the drugs, Mycroft is right. 'The universe is rarely so lazy'. Which brings me to the second conclusion."
For a moment Sherlock flexed his fingers against John's hand, making a tingling sensation appear but very different from the passing-through-sensation.
It felt more exciting, the smooth skin against his own. Some callouses here and there making them rough in places. It was better than John could've ever imagined. He almost struggled to listen further.
"Only one of us was always intoxicated. Either you drank alcohol or I was taking drugs and while I would very much like to show up and say 'John I am as clean as I can be' I needed to do this one last time. We both needed to be intoxicated for this to work, for this to stay like this."
Silence followed after that, Sherlock clearly waiting for some reaction and John not knowing how to react.
John cleared his throat, tried to say something quite as meaningful as Sherlock had but what followed was the only question that raced around his head. "To..to stay like this? What makes you think it won't go away?"
He liked the thought that Sherlock would stay, that he could hold his hand just like now. The only thing he doubted was the prediction that it would remain like this. Maybe when one of them became sober again it would stop working and Sherlock would have gotten high for nothing.
A gentle squeeze to his hand pulled him away from his musings and he looked at Sherlock again.
The other gave him a reassuring smile and shook his head. "I am certain we will be real flatmates from now on. It will be better for the rent anyway," he joked.
John's heart beat wildly in his chest and he couldn't keep the edgy, nervous laugh in after that joke. It eased something within him and he squeezed Sherlocks hand back.
"I'm glad then…I missed you."
"Going cold turkey alone is quite boring, with you it will be better," Sherlock still smiled at him, as if this was such a common conversation for them (and wasn't it?).
A thought struck John then and he almost wished for the beer can to be back in his hand. He just didn't want to let go of Sherlock, so he remained were he sat.
"What about all the others? We have been living in two different…worlds. Won't that be strange?" What would happen with Mrs. Hudson? Or the DI Lestrade and Mycroft and all the other people. It was true that things had merged but never people. They were never really there for John and it probably was the same for Sherlock.
Said man just inclined his head and blinked, it was becoming clear that he had taken something.
"We will see in due time John. First thing in the morning if Mrs. Hudson stays true to her routine and makes breakfast or something quite as mundane." Sherlock gestured wildly with the other hand to show what he thought about such things. "Just…can we tackle that tomorrow? I really enjoy this evening with you."
John immediately squeezed Sherlocks hand again out of reflex, his heart jumping in his throat and he tried to scoff. "Drugs Sherlock, of course you enjoy the evening."
A deep hum came from the detective when his head finally found its way on John´s shoulder, settling down nice and fitting. "No, it's you. I know the difference."
John didn't know what to say to that and remained silent. The smell of Sherlock´s hair reached him and he inhaled deep when he started to recognize it for what it was. It must feel soft too, the way it felt on his neck and jaw.
They sat there like this in silence for a while. It was relaxing compared to the days before now, filled with questions and what ifs. Somehow Sherlock had managed to make Johns head clear in a nice and calm way. Just with sitting there with him.
At some point John believed Sherlock to be dozing off and asked in a low voice. "Are you falling asleep?"
"Mhh, no," answered Sherlock and somehow John knew that he was smiling now too. "Are you uncomfortable?"
Yet Sherlock didn't move after his question which seemed to tell that he knew the answer anyway.
John shook his head, using this as an excuse to brush more against Sherlocks hair. "Not at all but if you're feeling tired, you could go to bed," he offered and glanced down at Sherlock´s face. Some curls were blocking his view.
"Well," Sherlock started and seemed to contemplate it before he slowly raised his head, "if you lie down too? It would be a shame having you sitting here while I'm there." While speaking Sherlock already stood up but didn't let go of John's hand.
Pulling him up John stood now and nodded to the question, words having abandoned him in the moment. Due to being pulled up by Sherlock his chest touched the entire arm of Sherlock, trapping their clasped hands between them.
Their faces were so close and John could only stare at Sherlock´s eyes.
Sherlock´s eyes were drawn to John's lips after he licked them in a quick movement.
They stood there for what felt like hours before John slowly shook his head and cleared his throat.
"So, bedroom." He started to move towards the kitchen, planning on pulling Sherlock after him like the other did just seconds before.
He hadn't considered Sherlock resisting and pulling him back.
Sherlock let John turn towards him again and looked down on him. "John, I…what I want say, no ask is…," he stumbled over the words, trying to find the correct way to say it. In the end, he chose the easiest path.
"Can I have a kiss?"
John starred at the other, his body rigid. Not with dread but with anticipation. He wasn't sure if this was right with both of them intoxicated. They hadn't known each other that long now and their friendship had been perfect so far.
And yet.
Sherlock had asked him. The message was pretty clear.
When Sherlock even made a gesture with his free hand to show him that he only wanted 'a little one' John was sure he would laugh out loud and botch it all up.
He too opted for the safest route and closed the space between them.
Their lips touched in a shy, hesitating way.
John could feel Sherlock holding his breath before he slowly relaxed into it and squeezed Johns hand yet again.
It wasn't long before this innocent touching of lips turned into a real kiss with both of them responding, moving against each other in lazy, slow motions. Just tasting the other.
Relishing in the feeling that they were real and could touch each other.
Such a small thing and yet it was perfect in that moment.
Sherlock was the first to break the kiss but stayed leaning against John. His head on John´s, cheek and nose buried in the golden hair of the smaller man. John smelled nice.
John smiled against the others throat when he felt Sherlock murmur something into his hair.
"What was that?" he asked low, not wanting to disturb the atmosphere that had built up.
With seemingly great effort Sherlock moved his head so that he could be better heard. "Bed sounds really nice right now, I'm feeling sleepy. Nice and warmish, but sleepy."
John couldn't help himself and continued to smile, despite knowing the reason why Sherlock felt that way.
"If you want to go to bed you have to remove your head. Then we can walk there."
"Do I really have to?"
John started to move slowly backwards, snorting about the way Sherlock followed with little steps. "It would be faster, yes."
John didn't receive an answer to that nor did Sherlock remove his head and gave both of them more room to move. That's how they made their way through the kitchen into the bedroom where John didn't bother to turn on the lights.
Shuffling towards the bed he tried to turn Sherlock around and prompt him to lie down.
What happened was that he indeed tried to turn around but lost his balance (thanks to Sherlock leaning more into him) and fell onto the bed.
Both grunted because of that and started to move a bit so that they could lie more comfortably side by side.
Which was a nice way to describe the way Sherlock pressed himself to Johns side.
Not that John minded. Not at all.
Using the free hand, the one that wasn't trapped between them and still holding onto Sherlock, to card through Sherlock´s hair. There was no chance that he could ever fall asleep if he wouldn't do this now.
Should Sherlock really disappear the next day (no matter how confident he was about it) at least then he would know that too. How soft his hair was. How nicely the locks bounced back.
How Sherlock seemed to like it and placed his head in the crook between John's neck and shoulder.
John moved the hand away and placed it beside him, memorizing the feeling.
Sherlock already seemed to doze off, sometimes squeezing Johns hand and overall being relaxed by all this. He truly was sure that everything would stay the same.
While John still doubted. He almost didn't want to fall asleep but Sherlock´s presence, warmth, smell just felt so natural that it lured him into a false sense of security.
It wasn't long before he too, dozed off.