December 15

The hammock (2/2)

When we finally quietened again, my head was resting on my best friend's chest, our legs interlaced through the play fight. I didn't dare to move. I didn't want him to be reminded how we were positioned, to tell me to get off because it was to intimate for him. I breathed his scent in deeply. He smelled like rain and oddly enough like cinnamon and like nicotine patches (at last he had given up smoking after his big brother Mycroft had caught him once) and like Sherlock. I let my eyes flutter shut, fearing the moment when he would reject me.

After a while of silence I felt how Sherlock lifted his hand. Hesitant he let his fingers slide through my short blond hair once, and when I didn't say anything, he did it again. The skin on my head tingled with every touch and my breath hitched when his thumb grazed my forehead. I could feel my heartrate increase, and since my front was pressed to Sherlock's chest, I was sure he could feel it to.
"John", he murmured gently. I didn't react. I didn't want him to stop running his fingers through my hair, I didn't want him to tell me to get off, I didn't want him to know how much I had fallen in love with him. But it was Sherlock. And Sherlock had never been one to give up easily.

"John", he called again, a bit more impatient now. I raised my head slowly, looking down at his face. He watched me, his eyes roaming over my face, searching. I didn't dare to breathe. Would he see it? Did he know already? I could feel my heart thundering in my throat.
"They didn't kick you out just because you were defending Harry, right?", he asked, his voice more gentle that I had ever heard it. I shook my head slightly, not trusting my voice. Quickly I looked away, watching the buttons of Sherlock's shirt instead of the deducing eyes in front of me.

When Sherlock spoke again, his voice sounded insecure. "I… It's okay for me… I mean... uhm… I… me too", he stuttered. My eyes snapped back to his, going wide. "You…you too?", I whispered, stunned. Every moment now I would wake up, I was sure of that. This had to be a dream. He nodded hesitantly, the fear of rejection clear in his eyes. I wanted to believe him right away, but I had to make it sure that he wasn't talking about something else and that this wasn't a misunderstanding. "You mean… err… You like me too?" I could feel myself blush, but the same way I hadn't been able to look into his eyes before, I couldn't look away now.
"Yes, John. I… like you. Much", he mumbled, the same uncertainty I felt too obvious in his voice.

A grin tugging at my lips. "Well then…", I said trailing of and leaned down to kiss him. His lips were warm and soft, more than I ever had imagined them to be. My thoughts halted completely. A tingling sensation raved through my whole body but I could feel nothing than Sherlock's warm breath mixing himself with mine, his warm lips caressing mine slowly, lovingly. I reached up at his curls, running my fingers through his dark hair like he had done it with mine before, pulling him even closer. His arms wrapped around my back, bringing our chests flushed against each other. I let my tongue brush against his under lip, begging for entrance and I could feel him shudder beneath when he gained me access. Sherlock tasted like he smelled, like rain and cinnamon and nicotine and something that I couldn't define anyhow else then completely Sherlock.

When we finally broke the kiss to get some air, I stared down into his eyes, nearly drowning in them. I smiled at him and Sherlock smiled back at me. I let my hands wander down from his hair to his high cheekbones, caressing them with my thumb. Sherlock's eyes fluttered closed and he leaned into the touch a bit. When I leaned down too kiss him again though, I lost my balance. I grabbed his shoulders to hold myself as the hammock swung. "Aaahhh", I cried when we fell out of it and landed on the mattress with a loud thunk.

Sherlock laid on top of me, spread out. I couldn't move beneath him. For a moment I couldn't react in any way, too shocked over the sudden change in places, but then I started to laugh loudly. Sherlock groaned unhappily. "Ouch", he grumbled, pulling himself up so that he straddled my lap and rubbing his head where it had hit the mattress through the landing. At the sight of his misery I couldn't help but laugh more. I giggled, holding my stomach. He glared at me, grumbling: "Shut up."
I grinned up at him. "Make me", I challenged. A glimmer of mischief caught his eyes, as he leaned down.
"I will", he promised, before he kissed me again.

AN: Fluffy fluff... :3 I just love it! Have a nice day, my loyal readers and thank you so much for your support!
~ TheNameIsAllieHolmes