Down the hall the vending machine hums, mixing with the muffled voices of the nurses and their shuffled steps on dull linoleum. Sparse fluorescent lights illuminate the corridor in a dim gloom. Everything seems distant and lost in reverie. An odd atmosphere in contrast to Tooru, running on thin nerves and cheap hospital coffee for two days now. The empty coffee cup in his hands is long useless. Turned and switched between restless fingers until the thin plastic budged and snapped.
His eyes opened slowly and revealed a sleeping John Watson
lying next to him. His mouth opened slightly and short bursts of his breath on
his face. Sherlock smiled and thought about last night. How John laid awake
with him for hours before his crying finally stopped and he fell asleep. He
kicked himself, he was displaying a gross expression of emotion yesterday. He
threw logic out the window and filled his head with sentiment and he’s ashamed
to think of how John saw him crying over the sink full of dishes because he
wasn’t talking to him. Sherlock told himself in that moment that he shouldn’t
cry because this wasn’t new to him. He knew the day would come when John would
finally decide that he wasn’t worth his time, that he could find somebody
better than him. He braced himself for the news, and it hurt him to think that
he wasn’t enough for John when John was the whole world to him. He nearly made
it without crying, but then he looked at John, who was so close to him, drying
the dishes and he couldn’t help himself. When John kissed him, and told him
that he loved him, he still cried, but it was because the man of his dreams
told him, the most obnoxious, rude,
and unpleasant man that anyone could have the misfortune to meet, that he loved
The only other time Sherlock had been this happy was when
John agreed to move in with him.
The only time
Sherlock can say that he’s been happy is only when John is around. The love of his
life, his blogger, his doctor…
“John Watson.” He breathed. Said man pawed his face and
shuffled closer to Sherlock. Sherlock was sitting up; John’s arms were wrapped
around his waist and his head was resting on Sherlock’s stomach. He smiled and
rested a hand on John’s back, raking his free hand through the soft blond hair.
He had to admit, John’s new hair was very fitting for him, he was always
handsome to Sherlock. John let out a soft groan at Sherlock’s head massage and
held him even tighter.
“Don’t stop.” John spoke, still half-sleep. Sherlock
chuckled. “I have no intention to.”
Sherlock heard John yawn. He raised his head to look at
Sherlock. His eyes were still glassy from sleep, and his smile lopsided but so
warm and compassionate that Sherlock thought he would cry all over again.
“Do you know that you look quite stunning when you wake up?”
John laughed at the question and rolled his eyes. They didn’t say anything
after that, John moved to rest his head on Sherlock’s chest, and closed his
eyes from the pleasure Sherlock’s massage was giving him.
“You kissed me last night. Well, we kissed for a second
“Yes, I remember.” The conversation trailed off for a bit
before John asked, “Why?”
Sherlock’s hands clutched to John’s hair at the question.
“I…I was…I wanted to know if we could, quite possibly, make
it a third time?”
John’s laugh came out as a breath. He opened his eyes and
sat up to Sherlock’s level.
“Yeah, Sherlock, we can make it a third time, and a fourth
time, we can kiss as many times as we want.”
Sherlock felt the blush rising in his cheeks as he thought
about all the future kisses they would share. All the days and nights he would
fall asleep and wake up in John’s arms. He was so excited to finally be with
John, and not just as best friends or flat mates or even as bedmates. He was
allowed be in love with John and
shower him adoration and affection that the soldier needed desperately. He
“Let’s make it a third time and see if it is enough.”
Sherlock’s lips were already starting to pucker. John’s pressed against his and
Sherlock moaned at the joy of being able to do this. John’s mouth spread into a
smile, still pressed against Sherlock’s, and he was laughing. Sherlock joined
him, the two still nose-to-nose with each other, grinning in the other’s face.
“Was that enough?” John’s voice lowered, making Sherlock’s
smile widen to its limits.
“It was enough, John. You’re enough for me.” They both
shared a few more kisses until they heard Rosie’s cries from down the hall.
“The day awaits us, love.” John threw his blankets off his
body and left to tend to his daughter. Sherlock was still in the bed, fingers
lightly caressing his lips and in awe. He put his hand down and whispered, “Love?”
He couldn’t help but smile to himself.
So yes, the next few chapters will include domestic johnlock, so that I can show their gentle transition into finally being together.
And that seemed to be the one word that Sherlock heard after
their morning together. When he finally joined John in Rosie’s room, the blond
already had the baby laid out on the changing table. Her diaper was just
removed. John looked up at Sherlock and smiled. He reached his hand toward the
baby’s items and said, “Could you get me a wipe and nappy, love?”
There it was again. John called him that word. He called him love. For a moment, he nearly forgot that
John asked him to get something. He went and got the items and handed them over
to John, then retreated to leaning on the doorway.
Sherlock rested his head on the wood, suddenly feeling drunk
with affection for John.
The second time, they were in the living room, Rosie was
demolishing her stuffed bee while watching the television. Sherlock was sat on
the couch while John fixed them breakfast. John’s specialty was eggs with beans
on toast. Sometimes, he would sneak a few slices of ham from Mrs. Hudson while
she was away and then cook it for their meal. Sherlock never much cared for
breakfast, but with John, he would gladly sit and share a meal. He looked into
the kitchen to see his lover standing over the stove humming some tune in his
head. Sherlock smirked at how adorable he found the man to be at times. Rosie
was tugging at his pant leg, he looked down and saw the blue-eyed baby smiling
up at him with her fist in her mouth.
“Oh, did you finally grow bored of mutilating that poor bee?”
He looked over at the once fluffy bee and sighed. It was a
gift for her and this was how she treated it. He placed her on his lap and
watched the children’s show. He let her grab his ring finger and briefly,
Sherlock imagined a gold band on it. He shook his head. John said he loved him,
not that he wanted to marry him. For everything that’s happened, John may not
be too keen on the thought of remarrying.
“Time to eat, love.” John’s smile made Sherlock dizzy. How
could such a mouth show this much emotion?
I am his love
Sherlock looked down at Rosie and whispered, “I am his love,
Rosie.” To which the infant just continued to suck on her fist. He seated
himself at the table after placing Rosie in her special chair directly in front
of the television. John was waiting for him. They shared a glance before
digging in. While they ate, Sherlock felt John’s leg brush against his. Maybe
it was an accident, Sherlock thought. But then he felt the leg again. He
blushed and tried to hide his face from the chuckling man across the table.
“What’s the matter? Do you want me to stop?”
Sherlock reacted faster than he could think and shook his
head. John put his fork down and sat back, trying to get a good look at
Sherlock’s face. Sherlock resisted every urge he had to look John in his eyes
and kept eating.
“You’re gorgeous, you know that?”
Sherlock shrugged cursing his blushing cheeks. “I’ve been
“Oh yeah? By who?”
Sherlock’s smile turned smug when he saw John’s cheeks
matching his own. Now they matched. John grinned at him.
The third time was when they took to lounging together on
the sofa while Rosie dominated whatever they had on the television. John tried
to change to the news for a moment and Rosie started shrieking whenever
anything other than the Teletubbies on the screen. So, there they were, stuck
watching the Teletubbies. John was indifferent to it, Sherlock, was horrified
at how children found such frightening creatures entertaining.
John was lying in between Sherlock’s legs, with his head
resting on his chest. Sherlock had his arms wrapped around John’s so that his
hands were laying on his chest. John’s hands were rubbing Sherlock’s arms
slowly, it was very ticklish.
“Care for tea, love?”
He’s in love with me.
“Yes, I do.”
John got up to fix their cups and Sherlock was left to think
about John calling him that word so many times in one day.
That night, they were both in Rosie’s room trying to find
ways to coax her to sleep. Sherlock was rubbing her stomach and shushing her,
meanwhile John tried to give her warm milk. When she finally fell asleep, they
stood over her crib and watched her little chest rise and fall softly. John
yawned and said, “Are you ready for bed?”
Sherlock nodded. “Just give me a moment to brush my teeth.”
John rose on his tippy toes to kiss Sherlock’s lips. “I’ll
see you in bed, love.”
After John walked out the room, only one thing crossed his
I love him.
There will be plenty more times of John calling Sherlock “love” so don’t worry guys!