Chapter 21
"John?" Sherlock moaned. He poked his shoulder. "John. Wake up, John."
John groaned and blinked sleepily. "Whuh?"
"I appreciate that you're probably worn out and everything, but if I don't get into a shower soon, I think I'm going to go insane."
John reluctantly pushed himself up on an elbow and looked at the clock. "Why don't you sleep?" he mumbled.
"I did... briefly, but this is getting uncomfortable." He squirmed and tried awkwardly to sit up, then winced. "Ouch."
That woke John up a bit. "Sorry. Alright, let me help you to the shower." He stepped out of the bed and went over to Sherlock's side.
Sherlock had flopped back down and lay very still. "Just give me a second," he murmured.
John frowned, a bit worried. "Are you alright?"
Sherlock grinned at him. "Yeah," he said. "Just a little sore."
"Sorry," John said, feeling a blush creep to his cheeks. "If it's any consolation, I did enjoy it very much."
Sherlock smiled and reached for his hand. "So did I. More than anticipated actually."
John grinned smugly and carefully pulled him up. "Very good to know."
Sherlock groaned as he got to his feet. "Guess I just forgot about this part..." Then he pulled John close and kissed him on the forehead. "But it was worth it."
John reached up to kiss his lips. "Perhaps it gets better after a while if you get used to it." He turned even redder as he realized how that sounded.
Sherlock laughed at him. "Oh, and I suppose you'd like to help me with that?"
"Well," John said with an apologetic shrug, smiling. "Come on, you said you were going crazy without a shower and I don't need you to be any madder than you already are."
"Thank you," Sherlock said, smirking.
Once under the shower, the cast protected, John pulled Sherlock into his arms for a hug, still feeling rather sleepy.
"Tired?" Sherlock asked.
"Mhm, I was sleeping rather well," John said with a relaxed smile.
"I'm sorry I woke you then," Sherlock bent down and kissed the corner of his mouth.
"Hmm, don't be. This is nice, too." He put a hand at the back of Sherlock's neck and kissed him deeply. Sherlock wrapped his arm around him and pulled him closer with a small grunt of agreement. John only pulled back when they were both breathless.
"Want to go back to bed?" Sherlock asked, gasping slightly.
"Yeah," John said, trailing his fingertips along the side of Sherlock's neck.
"To sleep," Sherlock added, giving him a quick kiss.
John smiled. "Agreed." He still felt sated from earlier, even though the kiss could easily have turned into more if Sherlock would have insisted. For now he was perfectly happy with a cuddle and falling asleep again.
…
The next morning, Sherlock was in a better mood than he had been for a long time. Not only had the sex been extremely satisfying, but his little ploy for getting John to come home had been surprisingly effective. This opened up a range of new possibilities for how to request John's help, without making him irritable. But Sherlock would probably have to be careful how he deployed it or it would lose some of its efficiency or, even worse, John would see through it. As he lay in bed, John's head resting on his chest, his fingers playing with the soft blond hair, Sherlock chuckled happily.
"What's so funny?" John asked, smiling and without moving from Sherlock's chest.
"You're awake?" Sherlock asked, a bit surprised he hadn't noticed the change in breathing pattern. But then again, he had been quite lost in thoughts. He quickly added: "Nothing funny. I'm just happy."
John hummed, lazily stroking Sherlock's shoulder. "Me too. I want to be woken up by your laughter more often." He pushed himself up for a kiss.
Sherlock happily obliged, his fingers still tangling in John's hair.
"Shall we get up, or do you want to stay a little longer?" John asked as he pulled back.
"I'm in no hurry," Sherlock said, with a lazy smile.
John contently snuggled into his neck again. "Still sore?" he asked after a while, a little worried.
Sherlock shifted a little, testing. "It's better, but I can still feel it..." Then he grinned teasingly. "Why do you ask?"
"Because I don't want you to be in pain," John answered, sleepily oblivious.
Sherlock laughed again. "You're so good to me," he smirked and kissed John again. John kissed him back, taking his time. When they finally broke apart, Sherlock said: "If you promise a morning snog like that, I'll do my best to wake you with laughter every morning."
John smiled, his eyes sparkling. "Deal."
Sherlock grinned happily and gave him one more quick kiss. "So," he said. "What are your plans for today?"
John shrugged. "Trying to keep you from dying of boredom, as usual?"
"Sounds like a busy day," Sherlock laughed. Then he added: "I was actually hoping my doctor would consider me well enough to get outside for once."
John looked at him, hesitating. "For a short walk, perhaps, and only if you tell me when your body starts to hurt. You really need to give yourself time to heal, Sherlock." He gently ran a hand along the detective's ribs.
"I promise," Sherlock said. "But what's the point in my body healing if I lose my mind in the process?"
John chuckled. "You'll be fine." He kissed Sherlock's lips, then got up to get dressed.
Sherlock rolled over on his left side, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and carefully pushed himself up, with only a small grunt. "Of course I will," he said.
John reached him a hand to pull him on his feet, trying not to get distracted by Sherlock's body. He threw some clothes on the bed for the other man. "There, try to put those on. Call me if your arm gets stuck or something, I'm going to make breakfast." John had the feeling he could better give Sherlock some space to try basic things like getting dressed himself so he wouldn't irritate him too much.
Sherlock gave it his best go, but had to call for John's help with the shirt and socks. He did, however, make sure to repay him with a long tender kiss. John hummed as he stood leaning over Sherlock, their lips locked. At least Sherlock was remembering to be grateful again, and somehow that made a lot of difference compared to the last few days. "Come on, let's go eat something, before we went through all this trouble just to have me ripping your clothes off again," he whispered, smirking.
Sherlock chuckled. "Yes, we can't have that," he agreed.
…
After breakfast, Sherlock didn't even give John the chance to do the dishes; he must and would get out of the flat right now. John fastened his coat and scarf for him (not without pulling him down for another kiss) and the cold air hit them as they stepped out of the door.
As soon as he was out the door, Sherlock drew a deep breath. "Oh, the smell of freedom," he exclaimed.
John chuckled. "Where do you want to go?"
"I really don't care, as long as it's outside," Sherlock said, resting his left arm on John's shoulders and planting a kiss on top of his head. He felt positively giddy and foolishly romantic. "Perfect day to be in love, isn't it?"
"O-kay, I'm not sure fresh air is very healthy for you," John said, looking up with an incredulous expression, but with laughter in his eyes. "Let's go to the park then, if you want to act like an actual couple."
Sherlock smiled down at him. "We are an actual couple. Aren't we?" He hadn't really thought about it quite like that before.
"Of course," John smiled, putting a gloved hand on Sherlock's cheek. "But not a normal one." He grinned.
"Never said we were," Sherlock replied, leaning into the touch with a fond smile. "That would be boring."
John gave him a quick kiss, beaming, then started walking. "What do we call each other though?" he asked. "I never know whether I should think of you as my boyfriend or partner or whatever."
Sherlock considered. "I honestly don't know. Never given it any thought."
"Good to know that the man who shares my bed never spares me any thought," John smirked, flinging his arm around Sherlock's waist to give him more support.
"Oh, I spare you many thoughts," Sherlock said with a wicked grin. "But none of the things I call you in those, should be uttered in public."
"Hmmm, that sounds like you should tell me about them tonight," John said, grinning back.
"You wish," Sherlock replied with a smirk.
"That's not fair, I also told you what I wanted last night!" John protested as they entered the park.
"Good point," Sherlock said. Then he bent down and whispered, his lips brushing John's ear. "The word that is most often in my mind when I think of you, is quite simply: mine."
John didn't think of being in public and turned Sherlock's face to him with a hand on his neck, closed his eyes and kissed him.
"Oh," a familiar voice said behind him, a little shakily. "I didn't think - I saw you two and just wanted to come and say hi - it's my day off - I'm sorry -"
Recognising the voice, Sherlock let out a small sigh against John's lips. "Oops," he whispered, before pulling back and with something nearly resembling his usual smile said. "Hi, Molly. Fancy meeting you here."
Molly bit her lip, apparently wondering if there was a subtle way of running away from there very fast. "I didn't know you two were together," she gasped out eventually.
"Er, we were going to tell you, but then Sherlock got hurt; you probably heard about it?" John said, remembering a little too late to turn around completely so he wasn't still standing half against Sherlock.
Sherlock kept his arm around John's shoulder. "Yes," he said, clearing his throat. "It's still quite new. Even to us." He gave John's shoulder a tiny squeeze.
John looked up at him with a small smile.
"Well, I'll leave you two alone then. Sorry for disturbing you and - and congratulations." Molly looked a bit shocked. After two steps she stopped and turned again. "You always said you weren't gay!" she said to John, almost accusingly.
Sherlock tried to repress a snort. He turned to John and said: "Yes, dear. What happened to that?"
John glared at him. "I was wrong. I just hadn't fallen for any men before."
Sherlock's playful smirk turned into a genuine smile. He leaned in and gave him a soft brief kiss.
At that, Molly really ran, or at least walked away very quickly.
Sherlock looked after her. "That went well," he commented dryly.
"Hmm. I think you'd better not need any corpses in the very near future," John said, leaning back against Sherlock.
Sherlock laughed. "Well, it's worth it I suppose. I'd rather have your warm body than anything she has to offer."
John pulled a face. "I don't really know how to feel about that phrase - probably flattered," he chuckled.
"Oh, believe me, you should be," Sherlock said, bending down to kiss his neck.
"Shall we go home?" John asked.
Sherlock sighed dramatically. "Yes," he said. "Back to the cell."
"We can come back tomorrow, I just don't want you to overdo things," John said with a gentle squeeze to Sherlock's hand.
"I know," Sherlock said, smiling fondly. He took John's hand in his and set off for the gates at a much slower pace than usual.
"Perhaps we can play a game or something, to make you a little less bored at home," John suggested.
"Cluedo?"
"Er... Only if there's really nothing else you want to do and if you don't get too dramatic," John said, still remembering the one time they had played it. He certainly didn't need Sherlock in that mood.
"I wasn't being dramatic. I was merely being logical. That's the purpose of the game, is it not?" Sherlock said defensively. "But if you don't want to, I'm sure we can think of something else."
"Yeah, something else, I'm not having this discussion again," John said decisively.
"I don't really know any other games," Sherlock frowned. "What would you suggest?"
John shrugged. "Chess? Go? Poker?"
"Poker?" Sherlock considered. "That's about playing the odds as well as reading your opponent." He smiled. "Yes, we could do that."
"Okay," John smiled. "But no rants if you lose."
"I'll do my best," Sherlock said with a laugh.
"Be prepared, I used to be very good in my day," John smirked.
