And of course, there's none. Not from Sherlock at least. There's been no contact from him at all. In fact, Mrs. Hudson hasn't heard from him either. The day after John left, Sherlock did as well, leaving enough rent money for several months.
Harry frowned lightly and settled down on the sofa, scratching the back of her neck.
John is just full of some vague anxiety. For the third time, he removes Gladstone from Sherlock's chest. The puppy whines and curls up at the detective's feet instead.
"You clearly have spent a prolonged amount of time with my sister when she's sober."
Sherlock doesn't tell John that he knows how he spent the last three weeks. John ought to know by now that even the most secretive things about him were likely spread right out there for the other man to see.
His eyes follow John around and as Gladstone stealthily crawls back onto his chest and John stomps back over to snag him, Sherlock catches his wrist for a moment.
Likely, Sherlock would ruin the moment with a blank stare or say the worst thing of all: 'I know.'
He wouldn't be trying to hurt John, he just doesn't feel it. Or think he can feel it. Or know what it feels like. But when he got that paper in the skull, the one that promised John death, everything ran cold. Life without John Watson is impossible now. Absolutely impossible. He can't survive it.
Luckily, there's nothing that needs to be admitted, just kissing to do, and Sherlock does it with quite a bit of passion he evidently doesn't really feel.
He moves himself around, so he's straddling Sherlock's waist while he leans over to kiss back. The wind has John slightly spooked, though, and ever so often when it rushes by the window in a way that sounds eerie, there's an instant and brief tension in his muscles.
John threads his fingers through Sherlock's hair, using them to keep Sherlock's head tilted into the kiss.
Long, large hands that still had quite a fine grace to them moved from the backs of John's thighs, over his backside and then up the back of his shirt. He can feel every moment if tension and holds John the tighter for it. He knew the blond was unnerved but not afraid. He'd likely heard so much worse. There was a different between an enemy you know and one you don't.
This one they don't know. It requires a bit of comfort.
Sherlock has greedy lips and hungry fingers, and they work against each other. It's hard to remove john's shirt, for instance, and maintain the kiss.
John arches into Sherlock, pressing their hips together with a soft sound in his throat. He decides he likes this - being more or less ravished by the other man. He likes the feeling of Sherlock's hands on him and the way his lips feel bruised when they kiss.
When his shirt comes off, he pulls at Sherlock's bottom lip with his teeth.
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John's temper has not been great, either. He hasn't been sleeping well and it shows. He almost wishes Harry would pick up a bottle and stop talking.
He pulls his phone from his pocket for the hundredth time in the last half hour. Just in case he's missed a text or a call.
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Harry frowned lightly and settled down on the sofa, scratching the back of her neck.
"Are you going to talk to me yet?"
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"What will we talk about?"
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She's his sister. She's allowed to pry.
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"You sister wasn't that bad," Sherlock notes, grunting as Gladstone seems to think his chest is good for sleeping on despite the damage.
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"You clearly have spent a prolonged amount of time with my sister when she's sober."
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His eyes follow John around and as Gladstone stealthily crawls back onto his chest and John stomps back over to snag him, Sherlock catches his wrist for a moment.
"Sit down, John."
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"Sorry. I just ... I was going mental not knowing where you were or what you were doing. Don't ever do that to me again."
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He wouldn't be trying to hurt John, he just doesn't feel it. Or think he can feel it. Or know what it feels like. But when he got that paper in the skull, the one that promised John death, everything ran cold. Life without John Watson is impossible now. Absolutely impossible. He can't survive it.
Luckily, there's nothing that needs to be admitted, just kissing to do, and Sherlock does it with quite a bit of passion he evidently doesn't really feel.
Reply
John threads his fingers through Sherlock's hair, using them to keep Sherlock's head tilted into the kiss.
Reply
This one they don't know. It requires a bit of comfort.
Sherlock has greedy lips and hungry fingers, and they work against each other. It's hard to remove john's shirt, for instance, and maintain the kiss.
Reply
When his shirt comes off, he pulls at Sherlock's bottom lip with his teeth.
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