The Mind Of a Fangirl // One-shots

It's All Coming Back To Me Now, Pt. 2 // Sherlock

Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Ship: Johnlock / mentions of Mystrade

The one where they both remember.

It was all coming back to him now,

This had happened before.

They had been in this exact position, Sherlock's hand on his face, Sherlock's lips on his own.

He remembered how they got home, that last time, how they had entered the house, how their hands had touched and their eyes had locked, how they had kissed.

He remembered how Sherlock's lips had felt, how his fingers had slowly trailed his cheekbone, how the detective has pressed him against the door, how his lips had left his own to nibble on his neck, how they had entered the room and how they had made love that night. He remembered.

It was happening again.

When the two men finally broke away from each other, they simply looked at one another, both breathing heavily.

"I -" John started, not sure how to put his thoughts into words. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not."

John sighed and looked away from Sherlock, bowing his head and rubbing his temples. He felt strange, like there were butterflies dancing around in his stomach. He knew what love felt like, and he could not be in love with Sherlock Holmes. He was not in love with Sherlock Holmes. "You're drunk. You won't remember this tomorrow, just like you don't remember - never mind."

"I'm not drunk, John. I told you, I only had three drinks."

"You threw a tantrum at your own brother's wedding, Sherlock."

"That was hardly a minor disturbance of the festive atmosphere," Sherlock answered, bringing up his hand to touch John's cheek again, causing the doctor to blush. "I - I just wanted to go home."

"You could have told me that."

"I -" The detective pulled back his hand and coughed. "I wanted you to think I wouldn't remember this night. I wanted you to speak your mind freely."

"Why?"

Sherlock smiled lightly. "Sometimes people tell me I'm oblivious, but this time it is you."

John didn't answer him.

"Don't you remember?"

It had happened before.

"Do you?"

"Of course. I don't get drunk, it meddles with my senses. I want to be able to trust what I observe."

"What do you observe right now?"

"Something I never thought I'd see again."

It had happened before.

John looked up, wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck and pressed his lips to the detective's, who immediately took the doctor into his arms and pulled him closer. He tugged on Sherlock's dark curls, allowing his friend's tongue to enter his mouth.

He was in love with Sherlock.

It was all coming back to him now. It had happened before, and it would happen again.

He would never want to forget this.