Needing You

Back to Baker Street

Sherlock stood staring, tongue held by stunned silence. He knew what had happened, he had been at the café, but he still couldn't wrap his mind around it. This was everything Sherlock had wanted for years, so how could it be real? Things like this didn't happen to him. 

He looked at John, eyes wide. In his mind he was saying a thousand things, but not a word escaped his mouth. This had happened before, when John had asked him to be his best man.

Sherlock had been silent for too long, so John cleared his throat, and spoke up.

"Now before you say anything, please, just hear me out." John started, voice sounding needlessly desperate. 

"Mary and I have been miserable since everything happened with the baby. In fact, she is the one who said we should break up before I even had a chance to say anything about it. I know what you said about staying with her and how we couldn't be together but-"

He was interrupted by Sherlock falling against him, lips grabbing his own with rapid lust.

John was stiff at first, lips he had grown to know so well now felt foreign against his own, but he soon relaxed into it, excited to learn the curves of Sherlock's mouth once again.

"Oh, Sherlock." John moaned against Sherlock's lips, feeling tears tease at the edge of his eyes. "I've missed you so much."

"You have no idea how much I have missed you." Sherlock said, pulling away to meet John's eyes. He swallowed hard, deciding to tell John the truth about the events of the last few months.

"Victor has pretty much taken full power over mind. I see him constantly, while awake and asleep." He left out the part of Victor raping and torturing him and John. "In fact I see him now, standing over there-" he pointed towards the couch where Victor was standing still, face unreadable, but eyes glowing with something villainous.

"You haven't?-" John started carefully.

"I haven't taken anymore drugs, no." Sherlock said quickly, snappishness in his tone.

"Good, that's good." John said with a sigh, relief evident. He grabbed Sherlock's hand, wrapping his fingers around Sherlock's. His hand had a slight tremble to it, and John frowned.

"When was the last time you ate or slept?" John asked worriedly. He was looking over Sherlock now with careful eyes. His face was more sullen then usual, and his eyes had very dark circles. His entire body had a slight tremor, and his ribs jutted out against the fabric of his shirt. It was almost like staring at a ghost.

"2 weeks or so." Sherlock said dismissively, knowing that John would not approve of such behavior. "Unimportant."

"Unimportant, Sherlock you're going to kill yourself." John said, voice coming out both angry and scared. "Here is what is going to happen. I'm ordering take away, you are going to eat, and we are going to talk, then, I am going to shag you senselessly until you are so exhausted that you will have to sleep. Doctor's orders. Do you understand?"

Sherlock stared wide-eyed for a moment before replying.

"Fine" He grumbled, not sure if he was more annoyed or aroused. He pulled on John's hand, leading him to couch where he collapsed against it, dragging John with him. He pushed his way into John's arms, feeling a lot smaller then he usually did.

John pulled him in tight, leaning his head against the top of Sherlock's. He inhaled Sherlock's scent, kissing the curls that lay plastered to the top of the detective's head. He had wanted this for so long, Sherlock in his arms with no worries or rush with a place to be. It was definitely like a dream come true, and he wasn't going to let this dream become a nightmare. Not this time.