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He is still there when I wake up. It gives me a little thrill of happiness. Our bodies have drifted apart during the night, and he’s on his back, one arm thrown out to the edge of the mattress, the other bent, his hand on his stomach. I’m entranced, watching him sleeping. I’ve never been so close to him when he’s asleep. A few times he fell asleep on the sofa watching telly, and we’ve shared hotel rooms on cases, but now...I can watch every miniscule movement of his face, because it’s right next to me. And it’s not furtive. It’s allowed. He’s mine now, in every way.
He’s not in the middle of a dream. He’s too peaceful. Lips slightly open, his lashes resting on his cheeks, he looks years younger than when he’s awake. He sniffs a little, nose twitching. I want to touch him. Touch his eyelashes, his mouth, the tip of his nose. Because I’ve never had the permission to do that before. But I don’t. I don’t want to wake him. I want to watch him sleeping, catalogue this moment, the first time I woke up in my bed, and John was there, too.
He stayed. He stayed with me. He didn’t leave, even after I was horribly difficult and frustrating and got lost in my mind like I do sometimes. It begins to dawn on me that this is really happening. It’s not an aberration. I’m going to wake up next to John every day. It’s too good to be real.
I’m starting to feel like Sherlock again, instead of the whoever I was that couldn’t eat and couldn’t think and could only lay on the hearth rug and wait for John’s texts. I creep closer to him. I desperately want to touch him. I very gently put my head in the crook of his bent arm. He immediately straightens it and puts it behind me, his fingers touching my left shoulder blade. I burrow a bit closer, daring to put my arm across his stomach. He makes a happy humming sound and twists toward me. I can feel all his stomach muscles moving under my arm.
His eyes flutter open. A slow smile. “Good morning.”
I smile too, my voice in a hush. “Morning. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“That’s okay. How’re you feeling?” Ever the caretaker, my John.
“I’m fine. You’re here, so I’m fine.”
His mouth ticks up in a half smile that makes my stomach buzz. Eyes still drowsy. He blinks at me a few times, edging our faces closer together. “You are so in for it when you’re completely better. I wanted to knock you flat last night. Except you were already there.”
“I know. You know how I can get. It’s not my fault.” I can hear the imperiousness creeping back into my voice. Ah, good. Feeling more myself then.
“Noooo. But it IS your fault that you wouldn’t eat what Mrs. Hudson brought up, and that you didn’t tell me how bad it had gotten. We sent HUNDREDS of texts, Sherlock. You could have mentioned you were starving and freezing and not able to care for yourself. I would have come home.” He doesn’t really sound as irritated as he means to.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.” He looks down, brushes my hair off my forehead. His eyes soften. “I’m going to kiss you now, because I just can’t wait any more. Okay?”
I nod, already tilting my face up.
He nudges into my face with his nose. His breath is hot and sour from sleep, and he takes my bottom lip between his teeth and bites. I can feel him smiling against my mouth. “I’ve wanted to bite that lip for five years.”
“Do it again, then.” The mood has changed suddenly. There’s an electricity, a hunger between us that wasn’t here a few minutes ago. My scalp is prickling. I can feel my breathing getting shallower.
“Yeah?” John’s voice is now very breathy.
“Do.it.again.”
“You bossing me around, Sherlock?” There’s a challenge in his eyes, his eyebrow ticked up at me, half smile on his lips.
“Yeah. You like that?” I’ve never appreciated how hard it is to banter when you’re turned on.
“Oh, fuck, yes.”
He’s breathing hard. Dips his mouth to mine, bites my lip hard enough to make me gasp. And hard enough that a bolt of arousal flashes down my spine, making my hips arch. I reach up and grab his shoulder, feeling the rough scar tissue from his bullet wound under my palm, and pull him over so he’s on top of me.
It’s been an extremely long time since I’ve had sex. 11 years. Since uni. It should feel awkward, I suppose, then. Perhaps I should expect to feel nervous. But having John’s warm, sturdy body laying on top of me feels like the most natural thing in the world. He braces his hands on either side of my head and pushes himself up. The look on his face is both amused and aroused.
“Well, hello.”
“Hello.” I trace his mouth with my index finger.
“You flirting with me?”
“How could you tell?” Run my hands down his sides. He shivers, gasps, lets his forehead fall onto my shoulder, rolls his hips into me.
The sensation of that is incredible. I can feel his hipbone, smooth and rounded, the tensing of his thigh muscles on either side of my leg, his foot sliding up my calf. It’s like the first rush of snorting cocaine. Feeling every single individual hair on my body. Feel every infinitesimal movement of them. Every nerve ending singing until it burns. That’s what it’s like to have John roll his hips just an inch forward into me.
He descends on me, his mouth on mine, urgent and hungry. Across my jaw, down my neck, his hips rolling into me rhythmically. Gorgeous noises are falling out his mouth, he’s breathing hard and fast. The sound of him quickly dispels any lingering hesitations I may have had. We’re both completely erect now, the hardness of him against me is exhilarating. These are the parts of John, the emotional, the physical, that I’ve never had before. And I want them every day, every moment. I’ll never ever have my fill of his hot skin against me, his muscles working and moving, his sweet soft noises in my neck. This will never be boring.
My hands are all over his back, lazily running up the back of his neck, down to his arse, feeling the muscles contract as his moves his hips.
“Oh god, Sherlock. This is okay, right? Tell me if it’s not.” His words are more breath than voice.
Press my lips to his temple, pluck at the waistband of his pants. “Shut up, John. Get these off.”
“My, but haven’t you gotten your bossy back since last night. Yes, sir.” He gives me a mock salute, and we’re both laughing. The sound of him laughing. It burrows into all the dark places in my mind and my soul and lights them up.
“This should feel…” John says as he rolls off of me.
“More strange.” I finish for him. The same thought I’ve been having since last night. It should all feel so new, but it doesn’t. Inexplicably, it’s both new and familiar, thrilling and comforting.
“Yeah. I’ve never even...anything...with another bloke. It should feel REALLY strange to me. But it doesn’t. It just feels good.” He slips his pants off, plants his hands on his hips, and gives me a look filled with heat and promises of things to come. “So? Acceptable?”
I let my eyes wander the length of his body. The rain has finally stopped, and the bright sunlight streaming in the window seems to have wrapped itself around John. He’s glowing. His tan skin shows off every curve and dip of muscle, shadows settling in the hollows of his collarbones and his hips. His eyes are absolutely cobalt blue, his lashes white blonde. My eyes drift down. He’s extremely thick, beautifully shaped, and rock hard. I have to suppress a shudder.
“Not acceptable. Breathtaking.”
He snorts a laugh. “Shut the fuck up. I have never had ANYone say that before.”
“Well, I just did. And I meant it. Too far away now. Get over here.”
He crawls across the bed to me, far more seductively than I ever imagined my solid, quaint little John could. Those blue eyes are now roiling with heat and want, and making my skin quiver. Touches his nose to mine, smiling, puts his lips on mine, and then I’m pressing up to meet him, opening his lips with my tongue, pulling him toward me. He can’t be close enough. I can’t get him close enough. He moves down, puts his lips on my throat, rolling my skin between them. He sucks a little harder, tentatively.
“It’s okay.” I gasp out, my nails scratching across his back, trying to pull him down so he’s flush with every inch of my body, “Go ahead. I want you to.”
He immediately opens his mouth wider, biting and sucking and licking, marking me. Marking me. I’m John’s now. Something beautiful has cracked open inside me. I never believed this would happen. I never believed I would have him like this. I expected to spend my whole life just playing the devoted friend, and biting down the bile in my stomach.
And now he’s in my bed, he’s on top of me, his fingers are interlaced with mine, he’s sucking on my neck so desperately that it’s making me dizzy. I don’t deserve this. But I don’t care anymore.
He pulls back and grins. Touches his finger to my neck. “There. Mine now.”
He kisses my neck again, gently this time. Soft and slow. Our entwined hands slide up the sheets until they’re on either side of my head. John’s kissing my jaw now, across my cheek. Finally, he reaches my lips, kisses me deep and long, taking his time. I’ve never even liked kissing all that much, but I could kiss John for hours.
His left hand lets go of mine, trails down my arm and over my ribcage. “God, you’re so skinny.” John murmurs more to himself than to me.
“It’s okay. I’m better now.” I put my fingers under his chin, tilt his face to mine. The naked love on his face brings tears to my eyes. He hasn’t looked at me like that since I came back. He used to look at me like that all the time before the fall, before I left him. I’ve truly gotten him back.
“Dammit, Sherlock. Why is it always so hard with us? Why is shit always so complicated?” His face tips down to my chest, pressing small kisses there. My skin is burning, everywhere he touches me, it’s fire and want and desperation. Since the moment I saw him, I wanted this. The very moment.
“We’re just difficult people.” Run my fingertips down his spine, arch my hips up into his.
“Speak for yourself, smart arse. I’m fucking charming.” His hand is inside my pants, curling around my hipbone. His mouth is on my stomach. I can no longer form a coherent thought.
“Take these off.” He pulls at my pants, echoing my words to him. “Oh, never mind. I’ll do it.”
John looks up at me, his chin resting on my stomach, as he yanks my pants down my legs. The mischievous desire in his eyes sends a white hot thrill through every nerve in my body. I’ve never wanted like this, *been* wanted like this. He’s kissing my hip bone now, the tip of his tongue darting all over my skin. Seeing the top of his head, that familiar blonde/ grey hair sticking up all over, mussed from sleep, against the concave of my belly, a sob of happiness fills me up suddenly.
“Come up here.” I’m surprised at how husky and emotional my voice sounds. But then, John’s always been able to bring things out in me that no one else ever could have.
“You okay?” He moves back up, until our chests are aligned. Brow furrowed, lips pressed forward. One of my favorite John faces.
“Yes. I just...I don’t know how to say…” I hear myself sounding like a complete idiot. “I just...this is what I’ve always wanted. And it’s overwhelming to finally have it. You.”
“Hey.” And his face changes from worried into that smile that takes over his entire face. “You’ve got me. You’ve got me good. So, if this is too much...we can stop. We’ve got plenty of time.”
“No, I don’t want to stop.” To emphasize the point, I put my hands on his waist, hook a leg behind his, and flip him over on his back. Kiss his neck, his shoulder, over the scar.
“Definitely...do...not...want...to...stop.” I say between kisses.
He starts laughing. “Well, at least I know you’re feeling better.”
“Stop being a doctor for five seconds.” I growl, start kissing down his chest, dragging my fingertips down his sides until I reach his hips.
“Can’t help it...oh. Oh, that’s good.” Mouth on his lower belly, working my way down. I haven’t done this in a very long time, but I’m pretty certain I remember the mechanics of it. He’s already twisting a little bit, I can feel his stomach muscles contracting under my tongue.
Swirling the tip of my tongue across the soft skin of his inner thighs, I scoop my hands under his hips so I’ve got his arse gripped in my fingers and my thumbs are against his hipbones. He gasps, back arching up, head pounding back into the pillow. He’s had enough teasing. I take him in my mouth, shivers twisting down my own spine. It’s much more arousing than I expected it to be.
“Oh, Christ! Oh god, oh god…” John is up on his elbows, watching me. His head keeps falling backward, and his chest is flushed maroon. “Yeah yeah yeah, like that. Oh, god, just like that. Oh fuck fuck fuck.”
Smiling around him, I tense my tongue, run it up the underside and around the tip. John shudders and utters another string of curses. His legs are moving on either side of me, toes digging into the mattress. My head starts buzzing. I realize I’m rocking my hips against the mattress. Suddenly, my mind just goes away. That blessed nothing. It’s just feeling. The feeling of John, thick and heavy, on my tongue, the friction of the mattress against me, the heat of John’s thighs on the sides of my head.
Then his body is going rigid, and I feel the pulsing starting. “Oh god, don’t stop. Don’t stop, oh oh oh, yes, oh FUCK.”
I stay with him through it, as he shakes and quivers and digs his fingers into my scalp, and pushes his hips up until I’m almost choking, and he’s saying my name over and over and over, and it’s so good, so beautiful to hear him undone like this, and know it’s my doing, until finally he falls back limp on the mattress and reaches down for my hand, draws me up against him. “You didn’t have to, you know…”
“I wanted to.” I can still taste him on my tongue.
“You’re so bloody amazing. I love you.” My head is on his shoulder. He tips my face up, kisses me, tongue diving into my mouth without hesitation. He pulls back and gives me a grin that makes my stomach flip over. Kisses me again, harder, deeper, his tongue sliding against mine assertively, fingers twisting into my hair. “Say you love me.”
“I love you.” Then he’s flipped me on my back, and he’s on top of me and his mouth is all over me, and I feel like my head isn’t even connected to my body anymore, like it’s floating away. It is REMARKABLY like drugs, this being in love business.
“Say it again.” There’s a tightness in his voice now, his face buried in my neck, kissing me with a passion that I can hardly comprehend, and his hand is snaking down my stomach. I’m shaking in anticipation, in arousal, my legs are trembling.
“I love you.” My voice is breaking. This is the most intensely emotional moment I’ve ever experienced in my life. I’ve never allowed myself to feel these things, really feel them, and the emotions coursing through me are overwhelming. I feel like I’m drowning in him.
“God, I love you. I never...I never knew anything could be like this.” He looks up at me, and his eyes are shining. “All the fucking time we wasted.”
“No...not wasted, John. We had to get here on our own. It wouldn’t have been this before.”
He smiles at me, slow and happy. “That’s true. You’re always right. Why are you always right?”
Before I can answer, he’s taken my breath away by wrapping his fingers around my penis, and pressing his mouth to mine. I can’t stop myself from bucking my hips up into his hand, clutching at his back with trembling fingers.
“Oh, John…” It’s been such a long time waiting for this. I can’t last long. My whole body is trembling, shaking to pieces, my skin feels like it’s detaching.
“Oh, god, you’re amazing. You’re beautiful, the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. That’s it, that’s it, love…”
My mind is gone. It’s bliss. It’s nothingness. It’s just the sound of John’s voice in my ear, and my spine shuddering, my nerve endings all sparking at once, my muscles out of my control.
“Come on, come on, you’re right there. Look at you. You’re gorgeous. I love you.” John’s voice is a whisper against my ear, his lips barely touching me.
“Kiss me.” I can barely stutter out the words.
He takes my face in his other hand, draws me to him, and the moment his hot lips are against mine, I’m done. I come with a yell against John’s mouth, spilling hot over his hand and all over my stomach. He slows down, letting me move against him through it, grabbing at his hips, at his back, his shoulder, anything I can cling to. The waves are washing over me, I’m cold and hot and shivering, and all I can see are John’s eyes, big and blue and looking into mine.
“You are fantastic, you are. Christ.” John pulls me tight to him, heedless of all the stickiness between us.
“John, don’t you want to?” I make a face at our stomachs.
He laughs. “I don’t give a shit. I just want to hold you until...well, forever. Just get over here.”
“Say you love me.” I run my hand into his hair, pull his head down towards mine.
“I think that’s my line.” He closes his eyes, softly kisses me.
“Say it.”
“I love you. Good?”
“Good.”
The sun is pouring in the window, falling across the bed in slashes of light. The night of the reception, in the cold and the dark, he told me we’d figure it out in the light of day. I smile. It’s the light of day, and I’m in his arms, in my bed, and he loves me.
“What are you thinking about?” He ruffles my hair, tilts his chin down so he can look at me.
“Light. Dark. Hiding things. Bringing them out in the light.”
He chucks my chin gently. Presses his lips to my forehead, squeezing his arms around me. “No more dark, okay? We’re in the light now, in every way you can think of.”
I like how that sounds. We’re in the light. Together.