Don't Be...Dead

13- Exceptions

I blinked open my eyes to see Sherlock lying next to me, hands under his head, looking up at the ceiling. I rolled over and rested my arm on his bare chest. His eyes flicked over to me, then back to the ceiling as a smirk appeared on his face. “‘I’m not gay,’” he said with a chuckle.

“I’m not,” I replied thinking through how to explain my feelings toward him. “I don’t like guys. It’s just… Just you I guess.” He smiled genuinely as he thought this over for a moment.

“I’m your…” he paused, as if picking out the word with extreme detail to be precise. “Exception.”

I smiled. “What about you hmm? ‘I’m married to my work?’ I thought you didn’t have any feelings Mr. Spock.” He frowned, his mouth forming the word Spock. Clearly the association was lost on him. After a second, he shook his head.

“I guess you’re my exception too,” He mused softly, and turning his head so that he faced me, he gently brushed his lips against my forehead. As he pulled back I thought I heard a faint and feminine sigh. Surprised, I sat up.

“What was that?”

“Just a text,” he said dismissively.

It took my mind a minute to register. “What, from Irene Adler?” I frowned. “I thought she was dead.”

“So am I,” he pointed out. “Why are you jealous?” he teased. “I thought we weren’t a couple.”

I thrust my mouth against his, my lips forcing his mouth open. His tongue snuck its way into my mouth and I closed my eyes as I breathed heavily through my nose. After a bit he pulled back, leaving me breathing heavy, almost gasping for air. “We most definitely are a couple,” I breathed.

Sherlock’s phone beeped. Pulling the pillow from under his head, Sherlock chucked it at the phone. The only result was two more beeps. I frowned. “Why are people texting you? You’re dead.”

He shrugged. “The dead don’t stay dead long I guess.” He stood up and I silently mourned the fact that he was no longer next to me. “Shhh,” he said, walking over to his phone and picking it up.

“I… I didn’t say anything,” I said, sitting up.

“You were thinking. It was distracting. Though they were such pleasant thoughts.” I felt myself blush a bit, despite the fact that he obviously knew how I felt. A scowl formed on Sherlock’s face as he looked at his phone.

“What is it?”

“Mycroft. He wants to know how the case is going.” I sighed and got up.

“I guess we should get going then.”

“Must we?”

“Yes,” I replied, grabbing Sherlock’s hand and dragging him along.