05: Melody
Title: Melody
Author: phoenix_zeal
Pairing: Sherlock/John
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Fluff, Romance
Disclaimer: I do not make any profit from this.
Beta: Me, Myself and I
Word count: 1565
Summary: Things are going really well and he even remembers to eat proper meals now and then. He will be finished soon, if everything goes according to plan, but he couldn’t resist visiting the flat one more time before he comes back for good.
Warnings: Spoilers for series 2.
Notes: Also posted on AO3. This is a part of the Sherlock/John Dreamverse series. If you'd like to read the previous part(s) you can find them here.
Mrs Hudson is away, staying at her sister’s. Sherlock made sure that she would be away before returning to the flat. He walks silently, skipping the step that creaks. Entering the flat, he goes directly to his room. Nothing has been touched since he was there last.
He picks one of his suits from the wardrobe. Stripping out of his disguise, he puts on his suit and sighs at the feel of the material against his skin. It fits him almost perfectly. Things are going really well and he even remembers to eat proper meals now and then. He will be finished soon, if everything goes according to plan, but he couldn’t resist visiting the flat one more time before he comes back for good.
John really hasn’t changed much around the flat even though it’s been almost three years. Sherlock enters the living room and opens his violin case. He caresses the neck of the violin before he picks it up almost reverently. Not being able to play for so long has disturbed him to an irritating amount. He likes playing while he’s thinking, not think of playing while he should be focused on more important things.
There’s a melody that’s been building in his head for over a year and he hasn’t been able to delete it from his mind. It leaks into places of his mind palace it’s not supposed to be. He thinks that he has to play it out on his violin and then it will finally leave him alone. He’ll be able to do his last task with greater focus and come back unscathed.
Sherlock hasn’t finished tuning the violin when John comes down from his bedroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He stops and looks at Sherlock for a few seconds.
“Is this a good moment to put the kettle on?”
“If you like drinking imaginary tea,” Sherlock says.
“Ah.” John sits down in his armchair and yawns widely.
“You weren’t supposed to start dreaming just yet, I am not quite done.”
“I can go back to bed.”
“No, it’s fine.”
Sherlock had thought that John would sleep through the sounds of his violin like he had done many times before. He hadn’t considered the fact that John isn’t acclimatised to it anymore, and therefore more likely to wake up. An embarrassing oversight, but a small part of Sherlock’s thoughts tells him that he actually wants for John to hear the melody.
He plays a few tentative notes, familiarising himself with the violin. Then he closes his eyes and lets the melody pour out of him. It shouldn’t be easy, playing something he’s never heard out loud before, but it is. It’s as if it’s been infused into his entire being, all the way to his fingertips. He sways as he plays, his entire body finding relief in the notes filling the silence.
John had been half asleep when he’d entered the living room to find the source of the sounds, but now he’s alert. He’s never heard the melody that Sherlock’s playing before and it entrances him. It reminds him of the piece Sherlock composed when he thought that Irene Adler was dead. At the same time, it’s completely different. John hears pain and longing combined with bursts of happiness and contentment. It’s complex and simple at the same time. Impossible to actually describe with words. He thinks that he must be mistaken but it sounds a lot like… love.
Sherlock’s expression is peaceful yet intense as he lets the bow dance across the strings in one moment and in the next, glide gracefully. The melody is playful, sad, intense, soft, and above all: truthful.
A lump forms in John’s throat and he blinks repeatedly to force away the tears threatening to fall. He wonders how he ever could have questioned Sherlock’s ability to feel. It’s true that Sherlock isn’t the most considerate or emotive of men, but he does have feelings. John has seen proof of it over and over again and yet sometimes it’s all too easy to forget. He promises himself not to forget again.
Sherlock drags out one last clear note and then stops playing, slowly lowering his arms before he opens his eyes to look at John.
“That was good, yeah,” John forces out after a moment of silence, his throat dry. “Amazing.”
“Thank you,” Sherlock says, sounding a bit bewildered, almost as if he just woke up from a dream.
He carefully puts the violin back in its case before he sits down in his armchair. His gaze seems even more intense than usual and it unnerves John a bit. John does his best not to squirm and clears his throat.
“What you just played, you created it?” he asks what he already knows.
“Yes, I have come to the conclusion that it’s all for you,” Sherlock says and John feels a bit like he’s standing at the edge of a pool with Semtex wrapped around him.
What has he ever done to deserve such deep emotions from the most extraordinary man in the world? The responsibility weighs him down, but then he realises that it’s been like this all along. He’s Sherlock’s best friend and he would do absolutely anything for him. Shoot cabbies, bollocks up dates with beautiful women, forgive Sherlock for drugging him.
He’s already done so many crazy things and he’d do even more if it means that Sherlock will always be with him. Perhaps he really is the kind of man that does deserve deep feelings from Sherlock, just like Sherlock deserves his love by being incredibly brilliant and stupid at the same time.
“Not good?” Sherlock asks and John realises that he’s been silent for too long.
“Not just good, bloody fantastic,” he blurts out and a warm smile appears on Sherlock’s face.
“So you understand, then? What it means.”
“I believe I do, yes.”
Sherlock leans back in his seat and his gaze softens. The smile is still there and it makes John smile back like a smitten fool. Yes, he is straight and Sherlock is an asexual male. Perhaps it shouldn’t work but John hasn’t gone on a date with a woman for a couple of years now. He finds that he doesn’t even miss having a soft body pressed against him. Sex doesn’t matter to him because all he needs is Sherlock. Now that is a quite terrifying thought. Then again, he is attracted to danger and that’s something that Sherlock definitely provides.
“Did you ever consider moving out?” Sherlock asks and John frowns.
“I couldn’t come back here at first, not after…” John trails out and takes a deep breath. “In the end I couldn’t stay away.”
“I know that I can never make amends for the pain I caused but I want you to know how truly sorry I am. If it makes it easier for you, I haven’t had an easy time either. I wish all of this had been avoidable.” Sherlock is a bit stiff and his voice holds no emotion but John still knows that he means every word.
“Just promise me that one day you’ll tell me everything.”
Sherlock hesitates, considers how to still maintain the illusion of this being a dream, but then he decides that he doesn’t care anymore. “Of course.”
“Good, then I promise I won’t punch you.”
Sherlock chuckles at that and of course that triggers John’s giggling. Soon they’re both laughing freely and John practically falls out of his armchair as he’s doubled over, clutching his stomach. He actually begins to cry because he’s laughing so hard.
“Lucky Mrs Hudson isn’t downstairs, she’d have a heart attack finding me laughing together with a dead man,” John chokes out when they’ve finally managed to stop laughing.
Obviously that only triggers more laughter and soon John is actually writhing on the floor. Sherlock isn’t quite as far gone but he slides out of his armchair to kneel next to John, giving him a hand. John sits up with Sherlock’s help and they manage to stop laughing again. They take several deep breaths as they look at each other and Sherlock wipes some tears from John’s cheek.
“When will you be back?” John asks.
“Soon,” Sherlock says against John’s lips, sealing his promise with a kiss.
“I hope Greg punches you now that I’ve promised not to,” John says when the kiss ends and sets off more giggling.
“I have to say that it will be interesting to see everyone’s faces.”
“You mean amusing, don’t you?”
“You know me so well, John,” Sherlock says, smirking. “As much as I’d love to stay, I really must be off. I have a disguise to change into before I leave.”
“Right, I’ll just get back to bed.”
They get to their feet and look at each other for a moment. Sherlock’s right hand finds John’s left and squeezes it briefly. Then he walks swiftly to his bedroom. While he changes he hears John walk to the upstairs bedroom. The bed creaks a bit as John settles, a soft giggle and then everything’s quiet.
Inside of Sherlock’s mind palace, the melody has stopped invading every corner but it’s still there. Not so Sherlock can hear it, but he can feel it with every inch of his body. He doesn’t think of it as a disadvantage any longer.
---
A/N: Sorry if this contains more mistakes than usual. I read it through to fix some things while watching a concert DVD. Not my smartest move but I want to cram in as many things as possible today because I'll be busy playing Guild Wars 2 all weekend because of the beta event.
One more part after this one and this series will probably be done.
Author: phoenix_zeal
Pairing: Sherlock/John
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Fluff, Romance
Disclaimer: I do not make any profit from this.
Beta: Me, Myself and I
Word count: 1565
Summary: Things are going really well and he even remembers to eat proper meals now and then. He will be finished soon, if everything goes according to plan, but he couldn’t resist visiting the flat one more time before he comes back for good.
Warnings: Spoilers for series 2.
Notes: Also posted on AO3. This is a part of the Sherlock/John Dreamverse series. If you'd like to read the previous part(s) you can find them here.
Mrs Hudson is away, staying at her sister’s. Sherlock made sure that she would be away before returning to the flat. He walks silently, skipping the step that creaks. Entering the flat, he goes directly to his room. Nothing has been touched since he was there last.
He picks one of his suits from the wardrobe. Stripping out of his disguise, he puts on his suit and sighs at the feel of the material against his skin. It fits him almost perfectly. Things are going really well and he even remembers to eat proper meals now and then. He will be finished soon, if everything goes according to plan, but he couldn’t resist visiting the flat one more time before he comes back for good.
John really hasn’t changed much around the flat even though it’s been almost three years. Sherlock enters the living room and opens his violin case. He caresses the neck of the violin before he picks it up almost reverently. Not being able to play for so long has disturbed him to an irritating amount. He likes playing while he’s thinking, not think of playing while he should be focused on more important things.
There’s a melody that’s been building in his head for over a year and he hasn’t been able to delete it from his mind. It leaks into places of his mind palace it’s not supposed to be. He thinks that he has to play it out on his violin and then it will finally leave him alone. He’ll be able to do his last task with greater focus and come back unscathed.
Sherlock hasn’t finished tuning the violin when John comes down from his bedroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He stops and looks at Sherlock for a few seconds.
“Is this a good moment to put the kettle on?”
“If you like drinking imaginary tea,” Sherlock says.
“Ah.” John sits down in his armchair and yawns widely.
“You weren’t supposed to start dreaming just yet, I am not quite done.”
“I can go back to bed.”
“No, it’s fine.”
Sherlock had thought that John would sleep through the sounds of his violin like he had done many times before. He hadn’t considered the fact that John isn’t acclimatised to it anymore, and therefore more likely to wake up. An embarrassing oversight, but a small part of Sherlock’s thoughts tells him that he actually wants for John to hear the melody.
He plays a few tentative notes, familiarising himself with the violin. Then he closes his eyes and lets the melody pour out of him. It shouldn’t be easy, playing something he’s never heard out loud before, but it is. It’s as if it’s been infused into his entire being, all the way to his fingertips. He sways as he plays, his entire body finding relief in the notes filling the silence.
John had been half asleep when he’d entered the living room to find the source of the sounds, but now he’s alert. He’s never heard the melody that Sherlock’s playing before and it entrances him. It reminds him of the piece Sherlock composed when he thought that Irene Adler was dead. At the same time, it’s completely different. John hears pain and longing combined with bursts of happiness and contentment. It’s complex and simple at the same time. Impossible to actually describe with words. He thinks that he must be mistaken but it sounds a lot like… love.
Sherlock’s expression is peaceful yet intense as he lets the bow dance across the strings in one moment and in the next, glide gracefully. The melody is playful, sad, intense, soft, and above all: truthful.
A lump forms in John’s throat and he blinks repeatedly to force away the tears threatening to fall. He wonders how he ever could have questioned Sherlock’s ability to feel. It’s true that Sherlock isn’t the most considerate or emotive of men, but he does have feelings. John has seen proof of it over and over again and yet sometimes it’s all too easy to forget. He promises himself not to forget again.
Sherlock drags out one last clear note and then stops playing, slowly lowering his arms before he opens his eyes to look at John.
“That was good, yeah,” John forces out after a moment of silence, his throat dry. “Amazing.”
“Thank you,” Sherlock says, sounding a bit bewildered, almost as if he just woke up from a dream.
He carefully puts the violin back in its case before he sits down in his armchair. His gaze seems even more intense than usual and it unnerves John a bit. John does his best not to squirm and clears his throat.
“What you just played, you created it?” he asks what he already knows.
“Yes, I have come to the conclusion that it’s all for you,” Sherlock says and John feels a bit like he’s standing at the edge of a pool with Semtex wrapped around him.
What has he ever done to deserve such deep emotions from the most extraordinary man in the world? The responsibility weighs him down, but then he realises that it’s been like this all along. He’s Sherlock’s best friend and he would do absolutely anything for him. Shoot cabbies, bollocks up dates with beautiful women, forgive Sherlock for drugging him.
He’s already done so many crazy things and he’d do even more if it means that Sherlock will always be with him. Perhaps he really is the kind of man that does deserve deep feelings from Sherlock, just like Sherlock deserves his love by being incredibly brilliant and stupid at the same time.
“Not good?” Sherlock asks and John realises that he’s been silent for too long.
“Not just good, bloody fantastic,” he blurts out and a warm smile appears on Sherlock’s face.
“So you understand, then? What it means.”
“I believe I do, yes.”
Sherlock leans back in his seat and his gaze softens. The smile is still there and it makes John smile back like a smitten fool. Yes, he is straight and Sherlock is an asexual male. Perhaps it shouldn’t work but John hasn’t gone on a date with a woman for a couple of years now. He finds that he doesn’t even miss having a soft body pressed against him. Sex doesn’t matter to him because all he needs is Sherlock. Now that is a quite terrifying thought. Then again, he is attracted to danger and that’s something that Sherlock definitely provides.
“Did you ever consider moving out?” Sherlock asks and John frowns.
“I couldn’t come back here at first, not after…” John trails out and takes a deep breath. “In the end I couldn’t stay away.”
“I know that I can never make amends for the pain I caused but I want you to know how truly sorry I am. If it makes it easier for you, I haven’t had an easy time either. I wish all of this had been avoidable.” Sherlock is a bit stiff and his voice holds no emotion but John still knows that he means every word.
“Just promise me that one day you’ll tell me everything.”
Sherlock hesitates, considers how to still maintain the illusion of this being a dream, but then he decides that he doesn’t care anymore. “Of course.”
“Good, then I promise I won’t punch you.”
Sherlock chuckles at that and of course that triggers John’s giggling. Soon they’re both laughing freely and John practically falls out of his armchair as he’s doubled over, clutching his stomach. He actually begins to cry because he’s laughing so hard.
“Lucky Mrs Hudson isn’t downstairs, she’d have a heart attack finding me laughing together with a dead man,” John chokes out when they’ve finally managed to stop laughing.
Obviously that only triggers more laughter and soon John is actually writhing on the floor. Sherlock isn’t quite as far gone but he slides out of his armchair to kneel next to John, giving him a hand. John sits up with Sherlock’s help and they manage to stop laughing again. They take several deep breaths as they look at each other and Sherlock wipes some tears from John’s cheek.
“When will you be back?” John asks.
“Soon,” Sherlock says against John’s lips, sealing his promise with a kiss.
“I hope Greg punches you now that I’ve promised not to,” John says when the kiss ends and sets off more giggling.
“I have to say that it will be interesting to see everyone’s faces.”
“You mean amusing, don’t you?”
“You know me so well, John,” Sherlock says, smirking. “As much as I’d love to stay, I really must be off. I have a disguise to change into before I leave.”
“Right, I’ll just get back to bed.”
They get to their feet and look at each other for a moment. Sherlock’s right hand finds John’s left and squeezes it briefly. Then he walks swiftly to his bedroom. While he changes he hears John walk to the upstairs bedroom. The bed creaks a bit as John settles, a soft giggle and then everything’s quiet.
Inside of Sherlock’s mind palace, the melody has stopped invading every corner but it’s still there. Not so Sherlock can hear it, but he can feel it with every inch of his body. He doesn’t think of it as a disadvantage any longer.
---
A/N: Sorry if this contains more mistakes than usual. I read it through to fix some things while watching a concert DVD. Not my smartest move but I want to cram in as many things as possible today because I'll be busy playing Guild Wars 2 all weekend because of the beta event.
One more part after this one and this series will probably be done.