A nurse entered the room, but turned to leave when she saw the two were having a moment. John called to her and stopped her. "Would you please bring a vase for these flowers, miss?" She nodded and went off to get one. "I'm going to take good care of you Sherlock and get you back on your feet."
"Promise?" Sherlock whispered out, blushing as at how the nurse caught them.
"Always." John nudged his forehead to Sherlock's and closed his eyes, as if they were having some sort of spiritual and emotional connection.
Sherlock closed his as sleep was encasing him. He just barely hid a yawn.
John just let Sherlock fall asleep in his arms. He placed the sleepy detective's head on the pillow. He grasped his hand again and sat there as Sherlock slept. "Always," he whispered. "Always."
Sherlock felt John sit next to him in the cotton hospital bed and immediately moved closer to him, his head tucked on John's lap and his arms thrown around his waist. He whimpered as it felt so good to finally be in John's arms and have a restful bout of sleep. John stroked Sherlock's hair calmly as he sat there. He knew this was the best sleep Sherlock had gotten in a while. He imagined the restless nights he must have endured before now. Sherlock sighed contently when began to stoke his hair in soft soothing patterns. He fell into a deep sleep rather quickly as John was warm and exceptionality comforting. John swirled his hand in his hair on the back of his head in a rhythmic pattern that made him moan softly out in pleasure. That was always a weakness he had, his head was very sensitive and of course John had found the most pleasing spot. John smiled a little, looking down on his detective who was so peacefully lying there. The bond was sealing between the two of them. The bond that was broken is almost completely repaired. John began to hum a soft lullaby, helping Sherlock drift into an even deeper sleep. Sherlock felt himself drift in and out of a daze. He brought his long legs to rest up by his chest and snuggled deeper into John's torso. They shared a connection in that moment that they had never had before. It was a somewhat romantic one, but also one that cried out in need for the other person. John felt Sherlock's warmth on his torso and he too almost fell asleep in his chair. Sherlock yawned heavily and called out John's name as he moved his hand to grip some of John's shirt, ruffling it.
"Yes, Sherlock?" he whispered quietly. "What is it, love?"
Sherlock turned his head to look up at his John with heavy eyes that were drooping and struggling to stay open. "Mhmm. I just wanted to say thank you." he said above a whisper, voice laced with sleep.
"Anything for you." John smiled weakly as Sherlock tried to drift off to sleep. The nurse came back in with a vase, filled it with water and put the flowers in it. "Thank you," John whispered. She quickly checked Sherlock's levels before heading back into the corridor.
Sherlock was irritated that the nurse had the nerve to check on him while he was with John but at the moment John's embrace was a pleasant and welcoming distraction to the irksomeness of hospital staff. John felt his eyes drooping. He had been put under so much stress today that he used up so much of his energy. While still somewhat holding Sherlock, he fell asleep, not for one moment remembering he was in a hospital.
The sun was high up in the cloudless sky, filling the quite room with beams of the warm light spilling in from the blinds. The morning was filled with birds and cars making noise while the silent roll of wheels from the corridors passed on by. Sherlock shifted from his sleeping position, curling up on himself again as he had sprawled out over John sometime in the night.
John woke when Sherlock started moving and shifting. "Morning, love," he said in mid-stretch. He kissed Sherlock's temple. "I'll call the nurse to bring you some breakfast."
"Joohhnn." he slurred his voice low and mellow. "I don't want food." he complained before shielding his face from the light in John's jumper.
"What do you want then? Name anything and I'll have it for you." As he said this, he moved the curls out of the way of Sherlock's eyes so he could get a better look at them.
"Can we go home?" He asks in a small muffled voice from his place in John's shirt.
John smirked and grinned. "I'll have to talk to the doctor, but I'm sure we can make it happen." Ten minutes later, Sherlock was given the okay to go home. "I brought some clean clothes for you," John said, holding out a pile of neatly folded clothes.
Sherlock sat up in the uncomfortable bed, his back cracking as he reached for the clothes at the end. John was watching him and he then blushed a red, "Uh John? Could I get dressed?" He asked nervously as John's just stood in the middle of the room.
"Of course." He stood, drew the curtain, and stood outside waiting. The doctor walked by, saw John and stopped to talk to him.
"Dr. Watson, there are some things I need to discuss with you before you take Sherlock home."
John nodded and gave his full attention to the doctor.
"You may be having some difficulties with him when he goes home. He may experience a nervous breakdown and have a panic attack. I am sure you can take care of him, but if it gets too serious, you need to contact me immediately." He hands John a business card. "He is also going to need to come in regularly for therapy to help him deal with the depression and suicidal thoughts. Based on what the nurse told me, I think you will be the most help to him."
John's cheeks turned a tint of bright pink. She had been eavesdropping, not on purpose, but she took note. "Thank you, Dr. McGuire." He shook the good doctor's hand. "We'll be in touch."
Sherlock hopped out of his bed giddy that he could leave this retched place. He pulled on his clothes rather quickly, closing his eyes when he removed the dressing gown as he refused to see the wounds that he inflicted upon himself the day before.
"Almost ready Sherlock?" John called into the room. He was a bit nervous to take him back to the flat. What if he was going to have a panic attack? What would happen then? He anxiously thought about it as Sherlock got dressed to leave the hospital.
Sherlock looked down at his clothes and smiled. John had picked out a simple but urbane shirt and pants. He walked towards the closed door and turned the silver metal handle, cracking open the plastic fake wood like door, peaking though it to sneak a glance at John before he noticed.
"Oh good," John said. He looked at Sherlock and saw that he had forgotten the vase of flowers. "Hey, don't you want your flowers?"
"Yes of course John," he said blushing as they were sitting out in the open and he had gotten distracted by John of course.
John blushed too as Sherlock went to pick up the vase. He took Sherlock by the arm. "Let's get out of here," John said with a big smile on his face. They darted for the elevator.
Once inside the elevator, Sherlock stood rather close to John even though it contained no other occupants.
John nuzzled his nose into Sherlock's shoulder, holding him close. He would be sure not to let him out of his sight for a very long time. "You're sleeping in my room tonight. Nothing you say will make it happen otherwise."
Sherlock felt a rush of blood travel to his pale face, making him blush rather deeply at John's words. He had never shared a bed space with another person, and now his...boyfriend? Was he implying to share with him?
"I've got to keep an eye on you. Make sure you don't do anything. But I don't think you'll mind anyway," John said, feeling a tint of pink paint his cheeks.
"I...no...I don't," he mumbled in a whisper hiding his face in his hands.
John chuckled. "Why are you so embarrassed? We did after all give anybody who walked by some PDA last night. I love you, and I think you love me too, so what is there to be ashamed of?" John turned to the taller man and smiled.
Sherlock blushed and looked around the elevator, anywhere but at John, who was so right that it was an understatement. "I'm just new to...this that's all. And I've never shared a sleeping place with another person before I thought that was later in the relationship," he whispered out clearly embarrassed.
"Normally...yes, but like I said, I'm not letting you out of my sight. Besides we've known each other for how long now? For God's sake I saw you half naked in Buckingham Palace, this can't be bad."
Sherlock bit his lip in his remembrance to that day and how John looked at him. "That's true," he said softly, letting the idea of sharing a bed with John sink in.
John moved his arm to clasp his hand in Sherlock's. He looked up and smiled brightly."You look dashing today," John piped up. "I really like that shirt on you."
Sherlock looked down at him in surprise after he complimented and held his cold hand. "Well you picked it out John," he said simply not sure what else to say.
"I know. That's the reason I picked it." John winked as the elevator door opened and he led Sherlock into the hospital lobby.
Sherlock smirked as he followed John put into the lobby that was busy with patients and doctors running around this way and that. He grabbed John's hand firmly as he didn't want to become separated from his John in the sea of swarming people.
John turned around slightly to Sherlock as they went through the hospital's front sliding doors. "Let's do lunch, shall we?"
"That sounds alright," he said quietly as the whisk of fresh air caressed his face he blinked to keep the sun at bay as they walked outside.
"I'm thinking Angelo's is the best place to go. Sound alright to you?"
"Yes sounds lovely John." He replied enthusiastically.
John hailed a cab and opened the door for Sherlock. He got in after Sherlock. "Angelo's please," he told the cabbie. He turned back to Sherlock. "So, what do you think you are going to have?"
Sherlock thought for a moment, he really wasn't all the hungry as he was rather tried but sharing something with John was enough motivation for him to keep his eyes open. "Can I share something with you?" he asked sheepishly.
"Sure," John replied with a smile. "I'm not terribly hungry either. Maybe we could go with the classic: spaghetti."
Sherlock smiled lightly in agreement and shifted closer to John. When they got to Angelo's, John gave the cabbie the fare and hopped out, opening the car door for Sherlock.
"After you, love."
Sherlock smiled and blushed, but obeyed and got out of the car. John then walked up to the door of the restaurant and opened it for Sherlock. As soon as they were both inside, Angelo scooped them into a huge hug, greeting them loudly. He led them to their normal seat by the window.
"Thank you Angelo," John said.
Angelo went off into the kitchen to get water for the two of them. Sherlock sat down and rested his arms on the table, his face settling in on his hands admiring the man across from the table. John looked up from the menu to find Sherlock's eyes trained on him. John managed a wink and a little grin.
"So what sauce should we get on our pasta?"
"Hmm doesn't matter to me," Sherlock said, sighing breathlessly.
Angelo returned with two glasses of water. He took their order and went back into the kitchen.
"So, what should we talk about?" John asked Sherlock, who really didn't seem to be paying attention to a word he said, but rather just his movements.
Sherlock watched John pick up his glass and move it to his lips in almost a teasing sort of way. He stared at John's lips as he licked then clean but now with a shimmer in the candle light.
"Ahem, Sherlock I'm talking to you."
Sherlock blinked to snap himself out of his fantasy. He blushed and looked down at the table, mortified that he had been caught. "Oh uh yes...what was it that you were saying?" He said shyly, hoping that John wouldn't notice what he was doing before.
John laughed and blushed a little. "I was just asking what you wanted to talk about."
Sherlock's heart nearly melted when John laughed; it truly was a beautiful sound that he would never want to stop hearing. "Oh, um I have no idea," he said honestly.
"Well I haven't the faintest either." John laughed again heartily. He looked straight into Sherlock's eyes and all their beauty. He next moved to his cheekbones, whose definition was the most he'd ever seen. Then he moved back up to the creases he got when he smiled those smiles that only he ever saw. Finally, he glanced over his lips. Those perfect lips, so soft and so kissable. He was just imagining having a make-out session, just to feel their tenderness and taste their sweetness.
Sherlock looked back up at John and noted that he was looking at him differently. John's eyes were blown wide, his pupils dilated making his blue eyes onyx black, his lips parted as he was breathless in his state of desire. Sherlock blushed deeply as John licked his bottom lip slowly in a tantalizing way. He swallowed nervously as he had never been in this sort of intimate situation before. John saw the tension building inside Sherlock. Good thing for him, Angelo had just arrived with spaghetti. "Looks wonderful, Angelo. Thank you." There was one plate. John picked at it, twirled some pasta onto his fork and ate it. "It's quite good, try some."
Sherlock tentatively picked up his fork and followed John in consuming the pasta. The two sat and chatted for a while, about cases and how Anderson is annoying and the like. John went in for another forkful of pasta. Sherlock looked over at the other patrons as he absent mindlessly twirled another forkful of pasta. He brought to his lips and lavished in the Italian flavors, thyme basil garlic fresh tomato all swirling to make one pungent pleasurable mouth watering flavor. Neither of them were really paying attention to the fact that they both had part of one strand of spaghetti. They got closer to each other as they ate and it wasn't until their faces were inches apart, when they realized they were sharing it.
John grinned. "Hello gorgeous," he said with a wink.
Sherlock flushed as their mouths were centimeters from one another. He barely registered the fact John had called him gorgeous. John inched closer and grazed Sherlock's lips, tasting herbs from the sauce on his lips. Those succulent lips that he had kissed so dearly last night. Sherlock shivered as John's ghosting lips hovered over his. His eyes dilated into slivers and he breathed on John's parted ones. John kissed him lightly, as he felt many patrons at the restaurant watching them with glaring eyes. Not enough to completely satisfy him, but just enough to hold him over. Sherlock blushed a deep red, as he noticed that many had beady eyes on them. The kiss he was given left him wanting more, so much more, desire and lust raged in the pit of him, clawing wanting to get out.
"Later," John whispered, winking again. John knew he wanted it too. Obviously, this was a completely inappropriate setting for that. John finished some of the pasta, asked Angelo for the check and a box, and then paid the bill. Sherlock suddenly felt like the clothes he had on his back were to hot after John's words of promise. In his turmoil of self control he didn't even notice that John was standing next to him offering a hand to help him up.
"C'mon Sherlock. Let's get on home," John said with a smile, hand held out waiting for Sherlock to grasp it.
Sherlock took it eagerly and stood up still grasping John's offered hand intertwining them as a content sigh fell from his lips.
Sorry it took me so long to update it. I had a thing I was doing this Friday and totally forgot to post. Next chapter will be up this Friday. Promise! :)