Oh, you guys are lovely, really. I love all of you.
Best friends for life.
Peace&Love
Sophie
Morning light peaks through the curtains in the doctor's bedroom. John and Sherlock lay together in bed. The doctor lays on his stomach, one of his arms laying at his side and the other arm underneath his head acting as a pillow. The detective is curved up beside him, the long legs curled gently, pressing against John's thighs. Sherlock's arm is wrapped tightly across the doctor's back, the long fingers flat against John's ribs.
John slowly wakes up to flashes of color streaking across his mind, much to his surprise. Partially because he didn't think Sherlock actually has dreams and another part of him thought Sherlock wouldn't be there in the morning, let alone sleep. He keeps his eyes closed and basks in the warmth and comforting thoughts of the detective next to him.
John tries to focus on the images. At first, they seem to have no purpose, bright flashes of purple and blues, with streaks of gray, white, and silver.
The doctor has never witnessed this type of dreaming before, sure he has probed minds that were asleep, how could he not? But, the dreams were nothing like this. Dreams have always been like watching a movie, a very strange and fuzzy movie.
The detective's dreams hold images, but they are overshadowed by the hues. John tries to focus and dig out a memory, he focuses on the images around the colors. The doctor remains as relaxed as possible under the arm of Sherlock as he explores the younger man's mind.
Underneath the purple, John sees a shirt, Sherlock's shirt. John would recognise that shirt anywhere, it's tight fitting and makes John drool, yes drool.
Underneath the blue is a faint picture of John in his favorite blue jumper, laughing while lounging on the couch, blood trickles from his nose as John brings a tissue up to staunch the flow. John remembers that night fondly, they chased a criminal around London, naturally. The suspect knocked John down and then pulled a gun on him.
Out of nowhere, Sherlock arrived and took the guy out, not just a punch and handcuffs, no Sherlock tackled the man to the ground and then with one punched knocked the man unconscious. John remembers watching in amazement. It wasn't until they got back to the flat that John commented on how BAMF Sherlock had been, causing them both to laugh.
John smiles to himself at the memory and proceeds to find the image beneath the gray, white and silver. The colors seem to be linked together but John can't quite get underneath the radiating shades. The colors start to fade and for a second John freaks out, tensing against the change. It isn't until he realises that Sherlock is leaving his dream part of sleep, towards waking up, that John relaxes.
As Sherlock slowly wakes up, the images fall silent, and John's mind wanders. The doctor calms himself, breathing slowly and matching the slightly snoring detective. John revels in the fondness of the heat created by the proximity and his tactile connection with the genius.
Why is Sherlock so different? John asks himself this question almost constantly, even last night, when Sherlock touched him. His connection would spark and tingle with Sherlock's touches but no memories came. His mind was completely silent. Why? Is Sherlock really different? Or is John weaker? Is being weaker a good or bad thing? Is this him turning normal?
John mentally shakes his head, he was able to read that man with the child, he could read that man's thoughts easily and it wasn't any different then usual. So Sherlock is just special? Why? How?
Why is he so accepting? John becomes slightly suspicious suddenly. He adapted to John's gift quickly without so much as a blink of hesitation. Does he know more information about this than John does?
John shakes his head, mentally of course, again. He trusts the younger man, well of course he does based on last night.
"Sherlock has nothing to do with this." He reassures himself, John thinks back to when he was telling the genius about his gift, Sherlock was curious and absorbing, he wouldn't act like that if he wasn't truly interested.
In spite of all of that, the fact that John can read his mind and has yet to find anything but true curiosity and wonderment in the detective, is reassuring enough.
John dismisses the thought that Sherlock is a spy, thinking himself very silly.
"John." Sherlock calls out mentally, his tone sleepy. John opens his eyes slowly and sees the genius's eyes still closed and his breathing deep. The younger man is still sleeping.
John heart can't help but swell in adoration and his cheeks blush a little bit. He never once thought the fact that Sherlock called him mentally or was always thinking about him was because Sherlock was attracted...interested...loved him? No not love. Sherlock is a sociopath, he doesn't love. John tries to reason with himself. But there is something there, the evidence and the sheer amount of time that Sherlock spends mentally and obliviously calling for the doctor.
John stares at the pale white and beautiful skin of the man next to him. What does the doctor feel? Attraction?
"Come on, Watson. You know." He screams at himself, yes, yes he does. He can't deny how madly in love he is with his flatmate, boyfriend, lover? Confusion and uncertainty surround John.
John sighs, this time out loud before he thinks about it. He shifts from underneath the detective, making a move to leave the room.
"Shh. I'm sleeping, stop thinking." Sherlock mutters, griping John closer, preventing the doctor from leaving.
"Sorry." John says sadly, he just not on par with his emotions right now.
The detective's eyes snap open and study the doctor's face. He glances over the older man's face for a few seconds. John holds his gaze steady, the soldier is not a coward.
"What's wrong?"
John doesn't answer. He just holds onto the gray eyes, anticipating the inevitable fight that is about to happen.
"I care about you John, stop with the angst." Sherlock states abruptly, his lips curling slightly.
"What do you mean stop? I'm confused I don't know what happened? What does this mean?" John yells , his thoughts scream at him whilst his emotions have free reign.
"Great, good job Watson." John thinks.
"I'm sorry, that was unfair." John says looking at the pensive look the detective is carrying.
"You didn't like it?" Sherlock questions, looking away from John.
"No, that's not what I meant, that was...bloody great." John says, shifting himself, so he is on his side. Sherlock's arm doesn't move and once John gets situated, he pulls the doctor closer to him. Who would have figured the detective to be a closet cuddler?
"I ask again, What's wrong?" Sherlock says, his face completely serious.
"I just, what now, I care about you, a lot, Sherlock. I don't know if I can go back to being just friends after this." John confesses in despair, thinking how long it will take for Sherlock to get him out of the flat.
"Shut up, you aren't leaving." Sherlock commands. "John, I'm not good at these emotions, but I, last night..I...I've never felt affection for someone like I do for you..." Sherlock says, nuzzling his neck into John's chest.
"I'm just too pedestrian for you." John states calmly, but truthfully.
Sherlock snorts, an angry snort. "John you are far from pedestrian and I'm not even talking about the fact that you can read minds." Sherlock states, chuckling at the silliness the older man.
"I just don't understand." John exasperates vulnerably. Suddenly images burst through the connection, Sherlock's hand and face emit pleasant heat as the pictures play rapidly in his mind. Images of the two of them together, laughing and being near each other, standing next to each other, images of them gravitating towards each other, getting into fisticuffs with assailants.
"I show you what I see in you all the time, I pick the images that are my favorite and make me happy." Sherlock sends warmth and adoration, no, the feeling isn't adoration fully, it's more deep, it feels like...love.
"You love me?" John asks, incredulous, without thinking. Sherlock tenses underneath him.
"I don't know feelings," Sherlock starts, "But then you came into my life and all of a sudden I hurt, I was emotional and I felt things that I didn't know existed." Sherlock adds.
"I show the symptoms of love."
"You googled it didn't you?" John snickers, and a little part of him wonders how he didn't see the signs.
"They were very resourceful."
John chuckles and gripes the detective closer.
"So where does that leave us?" John asks.
"Boyfriends, lovers." Sherlock suggests.
"Boyfriends." John states, his mind immediately relaxing.
"I love you too." John remarks, letting the detective nuzzle into his neck, the doctor sighing with happiness.
Life still hasn't changed, they are now together, much to the relief of Scotland Yard and Mrs. Hudson. Lestrade even admitted, albeit rather shyly, that he was glad the sexual tension was finally taken care of. It was, apparently, "terribly suffocating."
"So everyone knew about this before me." John thinks to himself in one of the taxi rides across London. John suddenly rethinks reading people's minds for personal gain.
John sits in a cafe just down the road of the surgery before he heads home, he mulls over his new relationship with Sherlock. He hasn't felt this happy in a long time. He really owes the detective a lot. The only new thing is that the detective has become diligent in his experiments. Honestly, it's hard to refuse the genius when he is pushing images of them together...in bed.. into John's head whenever he wants.
For the most part, Sherlock has worked at mastering his breaking of John's mental barriers, day by day, Sherlock is able to push more and more thoughts into the doctor's head. Moreover, to John's surprise, the detective is also able to control his thoughts when they touch and he is able to push more thoughts into John without the soldier initiating a mental connection. John doesn't know what to think, in fact, several times he wanders if Sherlock has some sort of ability himself. The detective denies this of course, and why wouldn't he, John doesn't have any experience, maybe people could control what John sees if they knew. However, Sherlock is very adamant about not involving others. John finds this relieving, and a little possessive of the younger man, but John just finds his possession adorable and tolerable.
"John!"
"John!"
"John!" John stumbles at the rapid chanting thoughts echoing in his head. He whips out his phone.
Oh my god, what? How are you doing that? How can I hear you this far away? - JW
The doctor is surprised and slightly stunned. He is more than a twenty minute tube ride from the flat and he hasn't even reached the station yet.
"You can hear me. Excellent." Pure happiness radiates from the thought causing John to smile.
John opens up and breaks into Sherlock's link so they can communicate easier. He sees Sherlock staring at his chair in the flat. He senses the boredom and excitement. John shakes his head in adoration. He latches onto the bond.
The doctor has become very comfortable with Sherlock's link and can even pick it out in a crowd, thanks to a new development. Due to one of the detective's experiment, which Sherlock is very insistent and determined when it comes to them and for the most part, the doctor isn't annoyed by them. When Sherlock experiences, John gets to test theories as well. It's a whole new door in learning and John finds himself with new experiences and furthering his limitations. John is exploring his gift in ways he never thought possible.
The new occurrence happened by accident. Sherlock encourages John to probe his mind whenever he wants so the detective can get better at detecting when John opens the mental connection. (John nods but doesn't abide, his rules are firm. He only obeys when Sherlock pleads incessantly or when the genius deduces) However, the link has become familiar and proficient.
It turns out, the more familiar and comfortable John is with a link, the bond takes on a tangible capability. John hadn't noticed before and, until the recent development, he probably would have never known that his mental links emit a taste, per se, the more he attaches with a person the more concrete and recognisable the link becomes. With the accustomed bond, comes a certain taste, no John isn't putting a mental connection in his mouth, but his mind can taste things when it comes to a perceptible link, it allows John to pick up the link a lot easier in a crowd and over distances. Sherlock's link smells of lilacs and honey, John thinks it's weird. Sherlock finds it as another experiment and extremely fascinating of course. He eats different things and then makes John probe his mind and 'taste' the connection.
So far,
Strawberries (Still lilac and honey)
Carrots (Nothing, although, Sherlock turned a bit orange that day, he was really invested in the experiment)
Spaghetti (Lilac and honey)
Any takeaway in the area (Still nothing)
If anything, John admires the detective for his perseverance and diligence. The test is still ongoing, and John doesn't complain. The doctor revels in the fact that the detective is at least eating, and on his own accord. That's improvement.
Is this another one of your experiments? - JW
"Yes. I've been calling your name for the past four hours." The familiar taste of lilac and honey invade John's mind. He smiles to himself as he walks towards the tube station.
I've been at work. How is calling me for the past four hours not considered boring? - JW
How are you doing this? Does it hurt? - JW
"You aren't boring. I don't know how, I have just been repeating your name in my mind. And no it doesn't hurt." He can sense Sherlock thinking pensively over the link.
For the past four hours? - JW
"Yes."
You are crazy.- JW
"How far away are you?"
I just left the cafe down the street from the surgery towards the tube.- JW
"Excellent. We should see if we can make the distance farther."
No. I don't need you in my head when I'm across London - JW
"We need milk."
My point exactly - JW
"I'm eating cake?"
Is that supposed to distract me...Wait, you made a cake? o_0 - JW.
John panics before typing a rapid response.
IS THE FLAT OKAY? - JW
The doctor sputters at the thought. He scans the flat through Sherlock's eyes, but all he sees is the plate of white cake.
John can see the mess of flour and icing he would have to clean when he got home. The doctor sighs.
"Yes, yes, calm down. Of course not, Mrs. Hudson made it. And don't use smilies they lower my IQ."
Naturally - JW
John laughs and pockets his phone.
"DO I TASTE LIKE CAKE!" Sherlock's thoughts scream into John's mind after a minute, he resists the urge to grunt in the sudden booming in his head.
Calm down, that hurts. no, nothing. - JW
Wait, what type of cake? - JW
"You can taste something different?" John can sense the excitement. "Its lemon cake with vanilla frosting."
Oh that sounds good. - JW
"John!" Sherlock is whining. "Do I taste like cake?"
Still lilacs and honey, love. ;) - JW
I hate you - SH
John smiles putting his phone away again, entering the tube station and enjoying the quiet ride home.
Fluff.