AN: Hello dear readers! I'm so, terribly sorry about the delay in updates! Things have gotten busy for us – but I promise more consistent updates in the future! For now – Enjoy!
Sherlock
During the next couple of days, things slowly return to normal at 221B Baker Street. Apart from a couple of incidents - such as Mrs. Hudson walking into their flat without knocking and nearly having a heart-attack at seeing Sherlock lounging on the sofa in his old blue robe or Lestrade gaping like a fish at the both of them when they come strolling into Scotland Yard like nothing ever happened - they resettle themselves quite easily. It isn't until about a week after Sherlock's return that the detective finds himself at a loss again.
Ever since they confessed their feelings to each other - or rather, ever since Sherlock confessed and John listened and they realized that a romantic relationship was something they both actually wanted - Sherlock has tried to act like a person in love. This behavior included casually touching John - something he'd done before, but never as much or with the tenderness he tried to put into it now - and trying to get him to respond. The problem was... John didn't.
He debates with himself about it, he spends hours in his mind palace and he even tries to ask Molly about it - which doesn't end well, as she turns bright red and teary-eyed when he even mentions it -, but he can't find a solution to his problem.
The thing that baffles him most is that John never initiates any contact; it's always Sherlock who brushes their hands together or presses a brief kiss to John's cheek whenever he gets the chance. And when Sherlock does such a thing, he can see that John enjoys it. The doctor either sighs or his eyelashes flutter, but he never returns the favor and it's driving Sherlock up the wall.
Why would John, who made it quite clear that he wants this with Sherlock, not act upon his feelings?
Sherlock scoffs and mutters something, which draws the attention of the doctor, who's reading a book in his chair, as the detective is sprawled out on the couch, his long limbs dangling from the armrest and cushions.
John puts his book down. "Sherlock?"
"Hmm?"
"Is something wrong?"
Sherlock doesn't answer right away. Instead, he folds his hands like he always does, contemplating what would be the best way of responding to John's question.
He can feel the doctor's eyes on him, but he won't answer his gaze just yet. Eventually, he slowly turns his head towards John, who's looking a bit worried by now.
"Why won't you touch me?"
John blinks slowly, as if it takes a while before the question sinks in. "Sherlock, what do you mean?"
The detective rolls his eyes; John should know by now that he hates repeating what he said. "I mean it exactly as I say it, John. You won't touch me. You won't kiss me or hold my hand or anything else, while I can see that when I do such things, you enjoy it. When I asked you what you wanted, you said you wanted a relationship, so why aren't you touching me?"
John seems a bit baffled at the question, but when he answers Sherlock, he does so with sincerity. "Sherlock, I do want a relationship with you. It's just that... well, I know that you have never been in a relationship and I have and I don't want to scare you off, so I thought you should set the pace. And I'm perfectly comfortable with taking it slow, honest, we can take it as slow as you want-," he starts babbling at this point, but Sherlock has heard enough.
"John, shut up." The doctor promptly shuts his mouth with an almost audible 'click'. Sherlock sits up and turns towards John, making sure he has his full attention before he starts to talk himself.
"John, although I have never been in a relationship before, I am perfectly aware of what a relationship entails. Furthermore, I trust you. I know that you won't hurt me or force me or do anything I don't want or like."
He looks John in the eye, assuring that the doctor has heard and understood what he just said, before giving him a small smirk and adding, "And if you were to do anything I don't like, I could fight you off in no time."
John actually grins at that. "You know you can't."
Sherlock laughs and replies in mock-offence "Is that a challenge, my dear docto-oof!"
John tackles him before he can fully finish his sentence, grabbing him around the waist and hoisting him onto his good shoulder, pinning him there with a strong arm.
"You were saying, Sherlock?"
"Put me down!" John, however, only laughs at that and starts to spin around.
Sherlock tries to wiggle out of John's strong grasp, but he lets out a chuckle as well. "John, really, I'm getting dizzy up here!"
After a couple of more spins, John collapses himself, dropping Sherlock on top of him and they lie on the carpet, giggling and dizzy, the detective on top of his blogger.
When the dizziness starts to fade a bit, Sherlock pops himself up on his elbows, smiling down on John, who returns his smile.
"John," Sherlock says, gently stroking John's cheek with his right hand, "I want to learn. I want you to teach me how to do this properly. But that includes you initiating things as well. I want you to and I promise I will stop you as soon as I need you to."
The doctor smiles wider and answers him by pulling him down for a kiss.
John
John had never seen this side of Sherlock before. Playful, affectionate and completely uninhibited. He'd seen bits and pieces of course.
Playful when he was on the high from case-solving. Giggles, poking fun at people, sometimes literal poking at him.
Affectionate in rare moments after a great threat had been defeated or a close call avoided. A soft hand upon his shoulder, a brief warm smile or unusually gentle words.
Uninhibited, well Sherlock was almost always uninhibited, sometime too much so. Self-control wasn't known to be one of his strong points.
But this combination of all three was a heady one, flipping his world around, because this Sherlock isn't the one he knows. This side of him isn't one he's ever been allowed to witness and now that he has he'll do everything within his power to draw it from Sherlock's shell as often as possible.
A sudden, soft stroke from Sherlock's fingers upon his face jolts John from his musings.
Sherlock murmurs "John, I want to learn. I want you to teach me how to do this properly. But that includes you initiating things as well. I want you to and I promise I will stop you as soon as I need you to."
That is all the reassurance John needs and he pulls him gently into a kiss.
He can feel Sherlock smiling against his lips as he snakes a hand behind his neck, pulling Sherlock closer. A soft laugh forms in Sherlock's throat a John's enthusiasm, but is cut off by a soft sigh when John moves his ministrations from Sherlock's lips to his pale neck.
Soft, searching lips trail their way down the veins in his neck, across warm flesh to his collar bone. John's breathing his increased and Sherlock can feel his kisses become more fevered with every moment.
Not just feather light anymore, now they're firm, hungry and John is using every bit of his iron control to keep himself from marking Sherlock.
It's so tempting, the porcelain skin spread before him, unblemished and delectable. The urge to claim Sherlock as his own, with gentle teeth and dusty bruises; to make a statement to the rest of the world that Sherlock is finally his, is nearly too much.
But he doesn't want to unnerve Sherlock, despite Sherlock's reassurances, so he back away gently.
And just in time, too. For at that moment, as he glimpses Sherlock's dazed smile, the doorbell rings.
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K & N
