FILL: Past and Present (4a/5)yalublyutebyaOctober 7 2011, 12:01:25 UTC
Greg knew something was not quite right as soon as he set foot in his apartment, but it wasn’t until he made his way into the living room to find Sherlock sprawled out across the couch, hands tucked under his chin in thought - how many times had Greg come home to this sight? - that he was able to pinpoint the source. As he slipped out of his coat and hung it up, he glanced at Sherlock, who had barely acknowledged his entrance.
“You know, most people don’t regard a decree absolute as an invitation to drop by whenever they feel like it,” he commented idly, moving to the couch and making a shooing motion as Sherlock finally looked up at him. “Budge up, I’m knackered.”
With the smallest sigh of resignation, Sherlock pushed himself into a seated position, those long legs still sprawled out over most of the couch. Greg rolled his eyes but sank into the small space left and let his head rest tiredly against the back of the couch. It had been a long day, and judging by Sherlock’s ominous silence and unidentifiable mood, it could be about to get longer. Then, to his surprise, he felt Sherlock’s weight settle against his side and he automatically lifted his arm, allowing the other man’s head to come to a rest against his shoulder. Sherlock still had his back to Greg and Greg could see the tension in the lines of his shoulders, showing that he knew full well this was not necessarily something one did with one’s ex-husband. If there was anything he had learnt in their years as a couple though, it was that Sherlock sometimes needed simple physical closeness with another person, and yet after all these years, he still didn’t know how to just ask.
“Case?” he asked, deciding to just go with it.
“No,” Sherlock replied, relaxing just a tiny amount when he realised Greg wasn’t going to comment on his strange behaviour. No further explanation seemed forthcoming and Greg smiled fondly - they had played this scene a hundred, a thousand times and Sherlock would tell him what was on his mind, eventually.
“So you just decided to break into my flat because you find the furnishings more comfortable?” Greg asked, trying and failing to keep a straight face and knowing that Sherlock would hear it in his voice. Sherlock harrumphed and crossed his arms across his chest, a gesture Greg knew all too well and that didn’t necessarily bode well for him getting to sleep tonight.
“Sherlock, why are you here?” he asked softly, brushing the back of his hand against the other man’s arm.
“It was too noisy at home.”
Generally, that was Sherlock-speak for his thoughts being distracted by someone else. He had often complained about noise when it had been the two of them, alone in their house.
“What’s John done now then?”
“The man is insufferable!” Sherlock blurted out, “He’s always fussing around and making tea and forcing me to eat and going on about hygiene and all these pointless little things that no-one cares about.”
Greg smiled at the back of Sherlock’s head because, really, sometimes Sherlock had all the subtlety of a teenage boy. It made Greg feel awfully old.
“Ask him to find somewhere else to live then,” Greg suggested, knowing exactly the reaction it would cause and sure enough, Sherlock tensed.
“I don’t want -”
Sherlock didn’t finish his sentence but his meaning was clear enough.
“You like him.”
“He’s tolerable,” Sherlock said, quickly following it with: “He thinks he can make me a better man. Reminds me of you sometimes.”
“You know, most people don’t regard a decree absolute as an invitation to drop by whenever they feel like it,” he commented idly, moving to the couch and making a shooing motion as Sherlock finally looked up at him. “Budge up, I’m knackered.”
With the smallest sigh of resignation, Sherlock pushed himself into a seated position, those long legs still sprawled out over most of the couch. Greg rolled his eyes but sank into the small space left and let his head rest tiredly against the back of the couch. It had been a long day, and judging by Sherlock’s ominous silence and unidentifiable mood, it could be about to get longer. Then, to his surprise, he felt Sherlock’s weight settle against his side and he automatically lifted his arm, allowing the other man’s head to come to a rest against his shoulder. Sherlock still had his back to Greg and Greg could see the tension in the lines of his shoulders, showing that he knew full well this was not necessarily something one did with one’s ex-husband. If there was anything he had learnt in their years as a couple though, it was that Sherlock sometimes needed simple physical closeness with another person, and yet after all these years, he still didn’t know how to just ask.
“Case?” he asked, deciding to just go with it.
“No,” Sherlock replied, relaxing just a tiny amount when he realised Greg wasn’t going to comment on his strange behaviour. No further explanation seemed forthcoming and Greg smiled fondly - they had played this scene a hundred, a thousand times and Sherlock would tell him what was on his mind, eventually.
“So you just decided to break into my flat because you find the furnishings more comfortable?” Greg asked, trying and failing to keep a straight face and knowing that Sherlock would hear it in his voice. Sherlock harrumphed and crossed his arms across his chest, a gesture Greg knew all too well and that didn’t necessarily bode well for him getting to sleep tonight.
“Sherlock, why are you here?” he asked softly, brushing the back of his hand against the other man’s arm.
“It was too noisy at home.”
Generally, that was Sherlock-speak for his thoughts being distracted by someone else. He had often complained about noise when it had been the two of them, alone in their house.
“What’s John done now then?”
“The man is insufferable!” Sherlock blurted out, “He’s always fussing around and making tea and forcing me to eat and going on about hygiene and all these pointless little things that no-one cares about.”
Greg smiled at the back of Sherlock’s head because, really, sometimes Sherlock had all the subtlety of a teenage boy. It made Greg feel awfully old.
“Ask him to find somewhere else to live then,” Greg suggested, knowing exactly the reaction it would cause and sure enough, Sherlock tensed.
“I don’t want -”
Sherlock didn’t finish his sentence but his meaning was clear enough.
“You like him.”
“He’s tolerable,” Sherlock said, quickly following it with: “He thinks he can make me a better man. Reminds me of you sometimes.”
Greg huffed out a laugh and then spoke up again.
“You really like him. You fancy him.”
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