Three days have passed since Victor's interrogation and John hadn't slept or left the room since coming back home. Only having bouts of an hour or so of restless sleep and leaving the room to use the loo. Sherlock would check in on him frequently, bringing him food, tea and water but John couldn't bring himself to eat. He would drink tea and water knowing he needed to at least stay hydrated. He felt nauseous and the idea of consuming food made the feeling worse. Or he was nauseous because he wasn't eating, he wasn't sure. He'd never gone this long without a meal.
John took a deep breath, slowly releasing it to help relieve his tension. He felt so childish being this frightened. He wanted to push past it. Deal with the nightmares and continue with his day like with his other horrific memories. However, it wasn't like his war memories. John was in control of his actions during the war. He tried to save the lives of his follow soldiers; some he saved and some he didn't. He was the one that killed the enemy. It was John's doing, his decisions. They haunted him of course but John didn't regret his choices, they were what kept him alive. With Victor, it was all out of John's control. To be present in the moment but not be able to do anything was much worse than anything he'd been through.
Victor took so much from John. His dignity, his sense of safety and his trust with Sherlock. The last one has been on his mind a lot the last three days. For one, Sherlock failed to tell John about his first encounter with the vampire. Granted that was probably for the best, but Sherlock didn't know that telling him would unlock Pandora's box in John's head. Regardless, it would have been better coming from Sherlock and not the sick fuck that raped him.
For two, Sherlock's an addict and John's blood was like a drug. Victor mentioned that fact multiple times. Despite not wanting to put credence into anything that monster said, he couldn't help but think that's why Sherlock wants to be with him. Sherlock doesn't understand emotions all that well. Who's to say that he really does love John? Maybe he just thinks he does because he wants his fix. Then again, he did tell John he loved him before John let him feed on him. Even so, Sherlock has been known to manipulate people quite convincingly. He's a good actor, John's seen him "switch on" during cases to get people to talk.
For three, Sherlock's a vampire. He can do everything that Victor can. He could put John in a trance and make him forget it even happened. That scared him more than anything. Sherlock told him he's never done that to John before and he truly wanted to believe him, but recent events made that difficult to trust. This was all too much to deal with in a short amount of time. Victor, vampires and his new romantic relationship with Sherlock. John was only human, there was only so much he could handle.
John didn't know how to get through this. Not only does he have to deal with these awful and very fresh memories. He's also questioning his relationship with Sherlock. John knew that's what Victor wanted. Trying to break their bond to further manipulate Sherlock. To get a rise out of him like he's done in the past. And John was playing right into it. He was doubting Sherlock despite his best efforts to ignore what Victor said. His words just made sense. Sherlock wasn't one for sentiment or emotions. Why now and why with John of all people? Ordinary John.
They haven't talked since coming home. John withdrew into himself as each day passed. He wanted to be left alone but also wanted to be around Sherlock. It was complicated. Everything was too complicated. Maybe he should try talking to Sherlock about it. Give him a chance to put John's doubts to rest. John loved Sherlock and didn't want to lose him. Especially not because of Victor.
"John, I ordered us dinner." Sherlock announced as he entered the bedroom.
Sherlock was more than concerned about John. His blood was dully humming, and he had barely spoken. Even hearing John's thoughts wasn't helpful, only being able to hear pieces and not enough to determine their meaning. Sherlock felt hopeless. Touching John was out of the question. Each time Sherlock tried John would flinch away. Sherlock's cold hands reminding John too much of Victor. It pained Sherlock to know that his touch was no longer something John wanted.
John was distraught, Sherlock knew, but selfishly he missed John's touch. Wanted nothing more than to replace those awful memories with pleasant ones of him. Sherlock wasn't going to push it. After all, this was temporary. He was sure of it. Soon John will be better and be okay again. He had to be.
"I'm not hungry." John mumbled, barely putting in effort to project his voice. He was lying on his side, his back facing the bedroom entrance. The bedroom was dark, the drapes drawn over the windows blocking any light from coming into the room. It could be the middle of the day or night; John wasn't sure, nor did he care. Time felt stagnant and meaningless.
"You haven't eaten in three days. You're ignoring your body's needs." Sherlock pointed out. If anyone knew about ignoring basic needs, it was Sherlock. "I've order dinner from Angelo's. Food will be here soon, and you know it's best hot." He informed, trying to tempt John. His blood sang for half of a second, but it was enough to let Sherlock know his temptation was working. John had to admit; Angelo's did sound appetizing. "We could eat in the sitting room, watch crap telly." Sherlock suggested, sweeting the temptation.
John didn't like the idea of leaving the bedroom, it was safe in here, but Sherlock was trying. He knew that Sherlock had been trying since they got home. If Sherlock didn't care about John, he wouldn't be put in the effort. That helped relieve some of the doubt plaguing his mind. It was clear if John was going to get through this then he needed to try too. He needed to talk to Sherlock and stop wallowing.
"…okay," John conceded, turning over in the bed to face Sherlock.
They hadn't really looked at each other in the past few days. Despite Sherlock not needing to sleep he looked as tired as John. Guilt crept inside John knowing that Sherlock only looked that way because of him. Because he was worried about John. There was a small smile gracing Sherlock's face that made John feel better. The doctor slowly sat up, feeling almost too weak to carry the weight of his body. He felt lightheaded as his blood tried to adjust to the new position. He planted his feet on the floor, and with more effort than he usually needed, he stood. Swaying slightly from getting another head rush.
Sherlock reached out for John, grabbing his wrist to steady him. The contact made John shudder, but he didn't pull away for once. It's Sherlock, it's Sherlock. He reminded himself, locking eyes with Sherlock to reaffirm his thoughts. There was a flash of hurt that crossed Sherlock's face before reverting to a neutral mask. Guilt struck John once again. Sherlock released his hold from John once the man was steady on his feet.
"Sorry," Sherlock said softly and took a step away from John. Space felt necessary in this situation. John's blood quivered when he felt Sherlock's touch but also when he took a step back. What did that mean? He feared Sherlock's touch and Sherlock putting distance between them? How was he supposed to accommodate that?
John sighed and took a step towards Sherlock, reaching his hand out to him. "I don't think I've ever heard you apologize so much." John lightly teased as Sherlock took his offered hand. John's blood started to sing again at Sherlock's touch.
"Yes, I've seemed to exceed my quota for the year." Sherlock smiled. So, when John initiates physical contact it doesn't bother him. Must be a control thing. Sherlock could live with that if it meant he could touch John again. "Shall we?" Sherlock gestured to the door with his free hand. John returned his smile and nodded.
They made their way out into the sitting room. Sherlock had John sit on the sofa as he went into the kitchen to make tea. John watched as Sherlock moved about the kitchen. He was so graceful. It was memorizing. He knew part of it was because Sherlock was a vampire, but Sherlock's always been graceful. Being a vampire just enhanced it. In a lot of ways being a vampire made Sherlock better. Focusing on those better traits would help separate Sherlock and Victor in his mind.
Sherlock returned with John's tea, placing it on the coffee table. "Our food is here." Sherlock announced as the door to 221 opened downstairs and the sound of footsteps ascending the stairs followed shortly after. Sherlock opened the door before the delivery could reach their door. There was a quick exchange and Sherlock returned with a takeaway bag in hand.
John was thankful for the warning. It surprised John how considerate Sherlock was. Not something John was used to and not something Sherlock would do for just anyone. He felt silly now, how could he think that Sherlock didn't truly want to be with him? That he was only with John for his blood? Sherlock clearly cared for John. Giving John space the past few days to collect himself. Checking in on him frequently, despite John ignoring him. Arranging dinner from Angelo's knowing that the restaurant was one of John's favorites. It was their favorite.
Food was placed in front of John on the coffee table, taking him out of his thoughts. Sherlock took a seat next to John, leaving space between them so they weren't touching, but still close. John looked at Sherlock to see he had a plate too.
"You're eating?" John questioned as Sherlock turned on the telly and searched for something to watch.
"Yes, thought eating together would be nice." Sherlock said casually, glancing at John.
"You don't need to…"
"True, I don't, but you enjoy eating together." Sherlock smiled, purposely eating a fork full of pasta. His eyes shifted to John's plate on the coffee table then returned to John. An unspoken request for John to start eating too.
John returned his smile giving a slight nod as he grabbed his plate. The smell made John's mouth water and stomach growl. He didn't realize how hungry he was. Sherlock watched him as he took his first bite. Satisfaction and relief washed over Sherlock. He was pleased that he finally got John to eat. He should have ordered Angelo's days ago.
They sat in comfortable silence as they ate. Sherlock could only stomach a few bites. Eating too much food made his transport uncomfortable. He set his plate aside hoping it wouldn't discourage John from continuing his meal. Fortunately, it didn't, John didn't seem to notice that Sherlock had stopped eating. Good, Sherlock's plan worked perfectly. John managed to eat half of his dinner before putting his plate aside. An acceptable amount. Pasta was filling, it was the main reason he ordered from Angelo's. Even a small amount could satisfy one's hunger.
"Thank you," John sighed in content, leaning towards Sherlock placing a kiss on his cheek. Feeling so much better now that he ate. His mind felt clear, and his body felt relaxed.
"Of course, John."
Sherlock turned towards John, his expression soft and loving. It made John's breath catch. Sherlock noted that John's eyes darken as he continued to stare. His blood gasping and humming. Sherlock didn't move, holding eye contact with John, inviting the doctor to make whatever move he wanted. John's eyes shifted focus to Sherlock's lips. Sherlock didn't want to get his hopes up but the way John was looking at him. The way he licked his lips as he stared at Sherlock's lips. John wanted to kiss him. Sherlock knew it but wanting and doing were two different things.
John's eyes returned to lock with Sherlock's. Slowly John leaned forward, closing the gap between them. Their lips connected, gentle at first as if unsure. John wanted to take things slow, allowing his mind time to process that this was Sherlock. Feeling more comfortable John finally deepened the kiss. Parting his lips and tracing his tongue along Sherlock's bottom lip. Sherlock mimicked John, continuing to let John control what they were doing. John shifted his position, turning towards Sherlock more, never breaking the kiss. John's left hand buried itself in Sherlock's curls, pulling the detective closer.
They both moaned, enjoying the feeling of kissing again after what felt like weeks. The last three days had been stressful for both of them. They needed this. John noticed that Sherlock hadn't made any moves to deepen the kiss or to touch John. Sherlock, touch me, John thought, hoping Sherlock was listening. Sherlock immediately obeyed, bringing one of his hands to cup John's face while the other was placed over John's heart. He did nothing to deepen the kiss, however. John released a small groan in frustration and pulled away from Sherlock.
"What's wrong?" John asked, hitting Sherlock with a glare. Well, he certainly wasn't expecting that reaction.
"Nothing," Sherlock didn't understand what he did to upset John.
"You're not doing anything you're just letting me…" John trailed off, his eyes widening slightly realizing what Sherlock was doing. "You're letting me be in control…" He said more to himself than to Sherlock.
"Not good?" Sherlock stared at him confused. John was more receptive of accepting Sherlock's touch when John knew it was coming. He thought trying to take over the kiss without fair warning would upset John.
John's expression softened, Sherlock was full of surprises, "No, no you're fine I didn't realize…" John shook his head feeling silly for getting upset. "You're so wonderful, you know that?" John smiled.
"You're not upset, correct?" Sherlock wanted to be sure. John's emotions were all over the place right now.
"No, I'm not upset." John assured him and pulled him in for another kiss. "I love you," John sighed in content as he pulled away from the kiss once again.
Since confessing they hadn't been expressing the sentiment. John didn't really notice this until he just said it again. It felt foreign coming out of his mouth. He would certainly have to change that. It will help with the doubts that have been consuming his thoughts for the past three days.
"I love you too," Sherlock said as he pulled John in for another kiss. This time taking the lead. John melted under his touch and moaned as Sherlock's tongue slipped into his mouth. The kiss was heated as if Sherlock was desperate for it. He wanted nothing more than to take John right here and now. His hand over John's heart tightened into a fist, gathering John's shirt up into a ball. The hand cupping John's face moved to the back of his head pulling him towards Sherlock as he leaned back to lay on his back. Keeping John on top.
John gasped at their new position, not expecting it but certainly not disappointed by it. He placed his knees on either side of Sherlock's waist, straddling him as they snogged. Sherlock released John's shirt and trailed down John's body. Enjoying the small moans and the feeling of John's muscles tensing as he continued his path towards the hem of John's t-shirt. He slipped his hand under John's shirt exploring his chest. John moaned, lowering his hips to connect with Sherlock's. Their erections pressed against each other, both moaning at the contact.
John's heart was racing, Sherlock was kissing him so intensely it made his toes curl. Their erections grinded into each other providing wonderful friction. But John's mind was starting to struggle to stay in the moment. He forced himself to continue, ignoring the panic that was slowly growing. His hips stopped and lifted away so their groins were no longer in contact. John did continue to kiss Sherlock, but it was losing its heat.
Sherlock noticed John's retreat. First his hips than his participation in their kiss. The sound of John's blood changing from the delightful humming to more urgent gasps. Sherlock pushed John back, breaking their kiss. He searched John's face; his expression panicked. He was breathing hard, and his eyes were unfocused.
"John," Sherlock called, drawing the doctor's attention. "We can stop." He said gently.
"I…" John swallowed. He didn't want to stop, but the idea of continuing was overwhelming. He started to shake, his eyes closed as he tried to compose himself.
"It's alright," Sherlock said softly. He pulled John towards him, so the doctor was lying on top of him as Sherlock wrapped his arms around him. John didn't pull away. He buried his face in Sherlock's chest and released a shaky breath.
"I'm…sorry. I thought I could…" John whispered.
"It's fine, I'll be here whenever you're ready." Sherlock assured him as he stroked the back of John's head. Even though it was disappointing to stop, he was thankful that he at least got the opportunity to kiss John again. To hold him without him being fearful of Sherlock.
They stayed like that for the next half hour. John had dozed off shortly after the panic left his system. Sherlock was pleased when his blood didn't revert to the dull humming noise but instead back to his standard singing blood. Sherlock didn't realize how much he missed it. John was going to get better; Sherlock was certain of that now. He just needed more time.
Sherlock maneuvered John off his chest and onto the sofa so Sherlock could get up. He placed a pillow under John's head and covered him with a blanket. He cleaned up their dinner, putting the leftovers in the fridge for John later. He hoped John was over his hunger strike now that he's eaten again. Sherlock will make sure of it, like John did when Sherlock was human.
A small sigh escaped his lips. Becoming a vampire has surely made a mess of things. It was too much to ask John to fully accept their situation. Their initial discussion about it was cut short. Caught up in the moment of confessing their love to truly take the time to understand what their new dynamic would be like. To top it off there was Victor to consider, which they hadn't. He was a direct threat and Sherlock ignored it. Refused to even mention him before the interrogation. It was stupid to disregard him as something that didn't matter. As just another case. That wasn't true. Victor has never been a "just" anything before.
Sherlock should have known better.
John's blood quivered and started to stir in his sleep. Sherlock was at his side in an instant, crouching down next to the sofa. Sherlock's hand hovered over John's head, should he touch him? Would that make things worse? John's body jolted as his eyes snapped open. He looked a little disoriented at first, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on Sherlock. He sighed in relief and took a few deep breaths. I'm home, that's right.
"Morning," John sighed. It probably wasn't, he was saying it more out of habit than anything else.
"Not quite,"
"Right, how long was I out?"
"About forty minutes."
John closed his eyes and groaned. Rubbing his hands over his face, trying to remove the exhaustion, "I haven't slept in days. For fuck sakes."
"Tell me." Sherlock said firmly. John removed his hands and opened his eyes, staring at Sherlock like he grew a second head.
"What?" He glared. He was too tired to try to figure out what the hell Sherlock was talking about.
"Tell me what happened, we…we haven't talked about it." Sherlock clarified. Normally, he would make a comment about John being an idiot for not understanding, but in this case, Sherlock knew that John wasn't fully coherent enough to think properly. John's blood started to groan with annoyance. His glare set heavy on Sherlock, what did he say?
"No, we haven't." John said tightly as he sat up. John's emotions were all over the place. First, he was depressed, then aroused, scared and now he was upset. It was hard to keep up. Sleep deprivation was really taking a toll on the doctor. Sherlock moved himself off the floor and onto the sofa, making sure to get space between them. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I'm not sure," Sherlock admitted. He did know why, but it wasn't a good enough reason to keep it from John.
"Don't lie to me Sherlock." John said firmly, but there was a pleading tone behind it. Sherlock sat up a bit straighter, looking unnaturally stiff. This was going to upset John; Sherlock wasn't looking forward to it. The man's been through enough.
"At the time I was concerned that if I told you about the message you would remember. Not only about being given the message, but how I...took advantage." Sherlock explained, hoping it was enough for John. Judging by the man's furrowed brows he knew it wasn't.
"Took advantage?" John's memories were stuck on the time spent with Victor, not getting home afterwards. He hadn't managed to get past the horrible incident. Giving Sherlock the message hadn't crossed his mind yet, but he assumed it had something to do with the kiss.
"Yes, I suppose you haven't fully remembered the evening based on your reaction. Victor..." Sherlock paused at the sound of John's blood shuddering at the mention of Victor's name. "The message..." He corrected, avoiding Victor's name shouldn't be a problem. "There was a kiss, as I'm sure you know. I didn't stop it, I indulged."
"You took advantage." John repeated Sherlock's earlier phrasing, nodding his head in understanding. He stared at Sherlock for a moment, the detectives expression blank of course. "What about afterwards?"
Sherlock swallowed, "I was…distracted." It was a poor excuse, but it was the truth.
Once it was clear that John felt the same about Sherlock, nothing else mattered. The two weeks that followed were filled with exploring the new part of their relationship. There was never a "right time" to tell John. Again, Sherlock didn't want to. It would surely ruin their bliss. It was a selfish move on Sherlock's part, but he had never had anything like what he had with John. He didn't want anything to take that away from him.
Sherlock had the decency to look ashamed. Not an expression John was used to seeing on Sherlock's face. It didn't change the fact that Sherlock kept this from him. John wasn't as upset as he thought he would be. Sherlock's reasoning wasn't the best, but John understood. It was a very human thing of him to do.
"You should have told me." John said simply. He was hurt, but there was no changing things now. He knew now, he just wished it was from Sherlock.
"I know. I am sorry," Sherlock said sincerely. "I was being selfish. I wanted to stay ignorant of what happened that night. We were exploring this new part of our relationship, and I didn't want to disrupt that. Surely telling you about the message would ruin everything. So, I ignored it, and I honestly didn't want to face it either. I didn't want to know what happened in those two hours you were with him. I thought it was better to pretend it didn't happen at all." Sherlock explained, his expression was remorseful as he spoke.
John's brows furrowed together; his blood started to growl. "I was with him for two hours?" John glared; his voice slightly raised. "You lied about the time too? What the hell Sherlock! Lying doesn't protect me like you think it does! You shouldn't lie to the person you love." John's yelled, his tone harsh. Striking Sherlock hard, causing tears to build up in his eyes.
"I've never been in love before." Sherlock shot back. A few tears escaped down his cheek.
"Sherlock…"
"You're my first friend, my first love! I don't know what I'm doing and it's terrifying. I withhold information from you to protect your feelings, I'm wrong. If I did tell you, you would be in the same state you're in now. I would be wrong. Obviously, I'm making things worse. I can't comfort you with my touch. I barely got you to eat a meal. I've been hearing your blood dully hum for days and couldn't do anything about it! Do you know what that's like? I know what you're feeling...all the time. I know that my touch scares you, it pains me to know that he took so much from you. Made you fearful of not only him, but of me. Our bond compels me to fix how you're feeling. How do I do that? What do I need to do? I'm simply guessing, and I never guess. John, I'm not good at this sort of thing. Please tell me, what do I do?" Sherlock ranted.
John let out a small sigh and took Sherlock's hand. Lacing their fingers together and giving him a gentle squeeze. John's touch eased Sherlock's mind. He didn't intend to say all that, it just spilled out of him. Sherlock inwardly scolded himself at his outburst. This was supposed to be about John, not about his concerns. Once again Sherlock was being selfish, but regardless of that, John. Wonderful, kind John reached out to comfort Sherlock.
John caressed Sherlock's hand with his thumb. Watching as his distress expression faded away from his face. Sherlock had messed up and John was still upset, Sherlock did lie to him after all, but he was only doing what he thought was best. To Sherlock's point there wasn't a "right decision" when it came to this whole situation. John couldn't fault him for that. This didn't just happen to John; it happened to Sherlock too. Not in the same way, of course, but Sherlock, having to navigate what to do on his own, when John was so out of it was a lot to handle. John could only imagine how difficult this all was for Sherlock, not only seeing John in a depressed state but also hearing it.
John did see the toll it took on Sherlock. Not only did Sherlock look tired but he could tell Sherlock hadn't been feeding. John wasn't sure if it was because that he couldn't feed from John or if he was ignoring his body's needs. There was a possibility that Sherlock was also experiencing what John was feeling. He did mention that he always knows what John is feeling. Maybe their bond does more than just that? Maybe he feels what John feels too? It wasn't so farfetched of a thought.
John had to look at this differently. Sherlock wasn't like previous partners. Not only were relationships new to Sherlock, but to add to that he knew John's feelings and thoughts. John didn't know the extent of what Sherlock experienced because of their mating bond but could imagine it was overwhelming for someone who describes himself as a highly functioning sociopath. Sherlock asked for help and the only thing John could think of doing was to let Sherlock in. To tell him and not blame him. This wasn't Sherlock's fault.
"I…you're not making things worse Sherlock." John assured him, brushing away the few tears that stained Sherlock's cheek with his free hand. "I don't know what I need. I'm still trying to figure that out myself. I need time, I guess?" He groaned, dropping his hand from Sherlock's face. He couldn't think clearly. What he really needed was something he couldn't do, "I need sleep…and every time I close my eyes; I'm back with him. Stuck in my body watching it all happen over and over again. In a very literal sense, it was against my will, and I know that. Logically, I know that I couldn't stop what was happening, but I can't help feeling disgusted with myself." John swallowed and looked down, "My body...reacted." he shuddered, whispering as he spoke as if the words shouldn't be voiced. He squeezed his free hand into a fist to help ease the shame he was feeling. This was hard, but he wanted Sherlock to know, "I did not enjoy it. I did not want it. I know that, but that arrogant bastard's taunts are in my head. Commenting on my body's responses: 'so sensitive.' 'Try to hold back your needy little noises all you want, you know you're enjoying this.' 'You're so eager, look how hard you are for me.' I can't…get it to stop." John took a shaky breath trying to prevent himself from crying.
Sherlock noticed this and wrapped his arms around John. The hug broke John's resolve, shuddering against Sherlock as he started to cry. He hadn't cried since the first night. Numbly, he realized that at the time he was also in Sherlock's arms. John pressed himself firmly against Sherlock. Burring his face into his chest as he released everything he'd been keeping in. He didn't realize that sharing all that would be so draining, but also a relief. Despite the crying he did feel lighter.
Holding John was a good idea. The doctor clearly needed a release and being in Sherlock's arms allowed him to feel safe enough to do so. He was thankful that it worked and didn't send John into a panic. Sharing what he had been dealing with seemed to improve his mood. Sherlock could tell by the sound of his blood; it was softly humming.
Although the details of John's ordeal were painful for Sherlock to hear, he was glad John told him. Sherlock was no stranger to the manipulation and taunting dealt by Victor. He had a way of inflating his own ego while making you feel small and pathetic. Those were the parts of their relationship that Sherlock could not delete. To endure that on top of being taken advantage of was too much to handle. He wished he could take all those memories away from John.
Technically, he could.
"John." Sherlock called softly, running his hand through John's hair. The doctor in his arms was still crying but managed to calm down some. Sherlock heard a small noise of acknowledgement from him, "Thank you for telling me, I know that was difficult." John merely nodded and tightened his hold on Sherlock. "If you like, I could hypnotize yo-."
"No," John said firmly cutting Sherlock off.
"I just want to help." Sherlock said gently.
"No," he repeated.
"Just to help you to sleep," Sherlock tried again. John pulled away so he could look Sherlock in the eyes. His face set in a scowl as he stared at Sherlock.
"I said no, Sherlock. I don't want my head messed with again. No."
Sherlock only nodded, he understood John's reluctances, but he hoped he could get him to agree. At least to hypnotize him into going to sleep for the night. That would be beneficial he thought. Though he disagreed, he would respect John's wishes and not hypnotize him.
John rested his head on Sherlock shoulder, still wanting to be held by the genius. He did appreciate Sherlock's offer, but he couldn't do that. He trusted Sherlock, but this wasn't about trust. He had to deal with this, it still happened. He didn't want to deal with this again. He knew nothing about hypnotizing and there could be a chance the memories would be triggered out again. He could not deal with this a second time. It was just better if he avoided being hypnotized all together. No shortcuts, his mind and body had to figure this out.
Sherlock continued to comb his fingers through John's hair. The moment was calming, but John couldn't help wishing Sherlock was human in this moment. To feel someone else's warmth when cuddling provides a sense of safety as well as comfort. He knew it was an awful thought, and he hoped that Sherlock didn't somehow hear it. It was just one of those passing thoughts that happen subconsciously.
It was a passing thought, but Sherlock heard it. He couldn't blame John for it, of course being with a human would be more comfortable. Part of it was because of Victor but the other part was something much simpler, body heat. Sherlock was as cold as a dead body. Certainly, a disturbing image when you think long enough about it. There may be a way for Sherlock to temporarily increase his body temperature. He had been planning to test this theory of his anyway. Might as well test it now.
John was starting to doze off, the heavy food and heavy emotions left him bone tired. Perhaps he'll be able to sleep for more than an hour. Sherlock shifted John around in his arms, adjusting his hold so he could carry John into the bedroom. A pleasant smile played on John's lips. This is lovely, he thought then heard Sherlock give a small chuckle. John was too tired to care.
All too soon John was placed in bed, feeling disappointed that he was no longer in Sherlock's arms. John reached for Sherlock as he covered John with the duvet. Sherlock took John's hand giving him a reassuring squeeze.
"I'll be right back." He said and released John's hand before the doctor could say anything.
Sherlock made his way to the bathroom. If he was right, his transport should retain heat he's exposed to, in this case, a hot shower. This was only a theory, but it was worth a try. Turning on the shower he waited for the water to warm before getting in. He adjusted the temperature as hot as he could stand and let the water wash over him. Taking the opportunity to wash up as well. Sherlock knew that John liked the smell of his soap.
Before they were together, he would catch a whiff of his soap coming from John. He never said anything but noticed John would use his soap when they were on an particularly long case. The longer a case went on the more Sherlock retreated into his Mind Palace. Ignoring everyone, though he could never fully ignore John. Noticing his movements and attempts to interact with Sherlock, giving him tea or trying to just check in with him. In those moments John was close enough for Sherlock to smell. Not that Sherlock was purposely trying to, smelling something familiar drew in his attention. His soap. He had ignored that too. Dismissing it as John simply ran out of his own soap.
When it continued to happen, Sherlock realized that John was using it because he was missing Sherlock. At the time he thought it was ridiculous. Sherlock was physically there, what was there to miss? Now he understood John missed his active participation in their day to day. So, Sherlock made sure to lather a good amount of soap to ensure the scent was strong when he returned to John. He knew that John would appreciate the gesture.
Seven minutes later Sherlock was freshly showered and dried off. He wrapped the towel around his waist and made his way to the bedroom to see that John was awake. His eyes fixed on the entrance of the room. John gave a lazy smile as Sherlock entered the room.
"You came back."
"I said I would."
"You did, but I thought you'd be gone longer." John admitted, Sherlock hadn't stayed in the room with John longer than a few minutes whenever he checked in. John didn't realize how routine it became. "Come here," he waved and shifted towards the other side of the bed so Sherlock could get in. Sherlock obeyed instantly and strode over to the bed. Removing his towel, he climbed in, getting under the duvet and pulling John towards him. John hummed in delight, not just him but his blood too, "You're warm."
John nuzzled his face into Sherlock's chest taking in a deep inhaling. The smell of Sherlock's fancy soap filling his senses. Whenever he thought about Sherlock, the smell of his citrus and black pepper soap always crossed his mind. He loved it. Of course, Sherlock knew that. He placed a kiss on Sherlock's collar bone in thanks. Sherlock kissed John's head in return and lightly massaged his scalp. Hoping to help relax John more.
For the first time in days, John fell into a peaceful sleep.