Don't Be...Dead

12- Song

Song on the side for you to listen to :)

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“Hey, Sherlock, I got us tickets to that royal party whatever thing.”

Sherlock broke out of his trance and looked over at me. “What? Why?”

“You said the woman was likely a royal. I thought this a good chance to investigate a bit-”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Wha- Sherlock, it’s the best way to find this person.”

“I said no.”

“It’s just a little dancing and small talk for god’s sake!” I paused and took in what I just said. “Sherlock… You can dance…Can’t you?” I took Sherlock’s silence as a no. Looking at him, it seemed as if he was in his whole thinking trance again, but I knew better. “Come on,” I said, hauling him to his feet. I dragged Sherlock up to my room. “Clear some space, will you?”

I turned my back on Sherlock and searched through the records behind me. There was something about records that I just loved. New music may have a better sound quality, but vinyl was just classic. Finding a slow song (You Take My Breath Away), I set the 45 on the player and set the needle before moving over to Sherlock.

“Put your hand on my waist.”

“What?”

“Put your hand,” I said, taking his hand and guiding it, “on my waist.” I placed my hand on his shoulder, having to pull myself close to him in order to reach. His left hand in my right, I smiled. “Mirror my feet.” He looked down and I started to move, my feet matching the mellifluous notes that came from the old record player. At one point the record skipped from some scratch and I stumbled, tripping over Sherlock’s feet and nearly falling before he caught me.

“You’re not very good at this,” he joked.

“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly used to dancing the woman’s part, am I?” It was only a half lie. While it was true, what really had me distracted wasn’t figuring out the woman’s part, it was how close he was to me.

Eventually the music stopped and I heard the familiar click as the needle lifted up and slid to the side. Sherlock dropped my hand that was in his but neither of us moved away from each other. Some crazy instinct possessed me and I grabbed Sherlock’s collar and, standing on my toes, pulled him down so his mouth grazed mine.

Almost instantly he pulled back, pushing me away. “No. Nonono. No. Stop messing with the little emotion I have!” His voice grew, increasing in volume until he was shouting.

“Me- I’m messing with your emotions?! First, you jump off a building. Then you’re back. Then you bloody kiss me. Then you tell me it was an experiment! Tell me Sherlock, tell me right now what’s going on or I’ll-“

“Tell you?! How can I tell you when I don’t know myself?”

I stared at him in shock. “I-Sherlock…Do you like me?”

He looked at me as if I had just asked some ridiculous question like is the sky blue. “John, don’t be stupid. You’re my only friend. Of course I like you.”

“Sherlock, you know what I mean.”

“I don’t know! Look,” he sighed and raked his fingers through his curly hair, shaping the words with his mind. “I don’t usually have feelings. It’s more… It’s more a sort of obligatory attraction. Like when someone has a bad father, but they still feel obligated to them because he’s their father. But with you… There’s some sort of feeling there. And I don’t know what to do, because I don’t have feelings. Not really.”

I stared at him for a minute, not sure how to respond. “John? Say something.”

“You bloody idiot. You think I’m not nervous too?” I combed my fingers through my short hair as I looked at him. “I-I lik-loved you since the beginning. I just…you said you weren’t looking for-” I was cut off by his mouth on mine, his tongue siding into my mouth. My hands tangled in his curly hair as his hands moved to the hem of my jumper. We broke away from each other long enough for him to pull it over my head. He moved his lips to my neck and I closed my eyes, letting a small moan escape my lips. Sherlock’s lips smile against my skin at this small sign of weakness. My fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, finally undoing the last of them and ripping the shirt off. My mouth found Sherlock’s once more and I felt his hands on my shoulder blades, caressing the scar the bullet had made back in Afghanistan. I winced slightly at his touch and he gently moved his hands away, pulling them down my back to rest on my hips. He pulled his mouth back and looked at me, fingers playing with the button of my pants, a questioning gaze barely containing the passion not just from the months he had been gone but the time before that as well. I hesitated and he stepped away from me.

“John, if you don’t want to do this…” he trailed off and I smiled at the sensitivity he was having for once in his life. I pushed my body back against his and he stumbled back until the back of his legs hit my bed. Sherlock threaded his arms around my neck and collapsed on the bed, pulling me on top of him.

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And that's as close to a sex scene as I get as well as the end of my mass upload! I've been hoarding this on my computer because I couldn't upload it because I don't write my stories in order. Anyway, there will be more, I just haven't gotten that far yet....

~Trisha