One shots (johnlock fluff mostly)

Two bedrooms?

Sherlock:

I don't want to be afraid, but do I get to choose? The hound that I know was now only fog still appears vividly in my thoughts at night when my mind is finally blank.

It's all so pitiful, a man of my age, scared of a child induced dream, it's like Redbeard I suppose, me and Henry Knight both experienced a childhood trauma, for me it was Victor, for Henry, his father. We covered up the pain with a dog, memories of Redbeard were happy though.

And here I am, laying awake at night, afraid of the dark, even Rosie's not afraid of the dark, they are moving in tomorrow, John's become ever closer to me but it may never be the same as before, it could be more, it could be less, never did cross the boundary between more than friends but at least I have him.

He'll think it's withdrawal that I look the way I do, tired eyes and bad complexion, but it's the nightmares, I visit my sister and I don't even know why, John doesn't visit his sister because she was an alcoholic who walked out on her wife and here I am, visiting the sister who tried to get me to choose between my only friend and my only brother, killed my childhood friend and taunted me.

I'm weak and pathetic, mycroft is finally okay from the experience but why do I still visit her, we may have been alike once but not anymore, the violin is our only communication and even that is growing thin, and here I am, nightmares of hounds and devil sisters come to leave me scared and afraid.

Afraid of what? My own mind?

Third person:

Sherlock left his room to go to the kitchen, sitting down at his most recent experiments, failing to keep his eyes open and slowly drifting off to sleep in his chair.

John knocked on the door of 221b the morning after but received no reply so unlocked the door with his own key and took him and Rosie inside.

He managed upstairs to the flat, carrying their few things and Rosie's high chair as well as a play pen, he unlocked the flat door and went inside, settling the stuff down onto the floor and quickly putting together the play pen so Rosie couldn't wander off whilst he was busy.

Once Rosie was tended to, John went to walk past the kitchen when a familiar sight caught his eye of Sherlock having fallen asleep at the kitchen table. He went into the kitchen and decided it wouldn't do Sherlocks back any good to be in that position the whole time so he lifted the detective into his arms, still surprised at his own strength.

He carried the detective into the living room and placed him on the sofa to lie down, once he'd made sure Sherlock was comfortable he draped a blanket over him to keep him warm before he began moving his stuff upstairs back to his room.

It was an hour or so later he heard someone calling his name, their voice desperate and scared that he ran out of his room and down the stairs to the living room, Rosie still playing and Sherlock now writhing on the sofa and muttering.

He rushed over and gently shook the detectives shoulders to wake him and after a while of Sherlock trying to fight him away Sherlocks body gave in and he began to open his eyes, seeing John looking down at him with a worried expression, he could feel the weight of John's hands on his shoulders and he felt how they grounded him a little more.

"Sherlock? You in there?" John asked waving a hand in front of Sherlocks dazed face.

"What? Oh um yeah" Sherlock said with a small smile, looking fully up at John.

"Nightmare?" John asked softly.

Sherlock looked up at him in confusion and then it all came flooding back to him, John being torn apart by the hound who turned out to be his sister and the blood that his mind had created, he shuddered painfully and didn't feel the tears that left his eyes.

"Oh John" he whispered, his voice breaking at the end. John crouched down next to Sherlock and stroked a loving hand through the taller mans hair to comfort him and Sherlock melted into his hand.

"Come on, you gonna help me then?" John said softly, cupping Sherlocks face gently with his warm hand, Sherlock nodded and pushed himself up, realizing for the first time he was lying on the sofa with a blanket now around him.

The rest of the morning they spent sorting John's stuff out because even though it wasn't a lot he also had Rossi to think about now, she'd be needing her own room soon as well, that could be sorted at another time though.

John thanked Sherlock by hugging him lightly and pressing a kiss to the side of the detectives forehead making Sherlock blush like a cherry. John chuckled and was suddenly over taken with an urge to feel his mouth against the detectives, a desire he didn't want to hide any longer.

He reached up, taking a fistful of Sherlocks shirt collar and then wrapping a hand round the back of the detectives neck, his thumb brushing the curls just next to his ear and Sherlock melted into his hands with a soft smile on his face.

"I've always loved you" John whispered, brushing the curve of the detectives ear and making him lean his head into John's hand.

"Why did you never say?"

"I was afraid, maybe of rejection maybe of acceptance" John said with a small shrug.

John slowly pressed his lips to Sherlocks and felt Sherlock gasp at the contact but after a few seconds Sherlocks hand were wrapped around him, one curved around him and the other in the shorter mans hair, John could tell he was inexperienced but that didn't matter, he'd be happy to teach him if he would let him.

They finally broke away, feeling annoyed at the necessity to breathe to stay alive when Sherlock spoke again.

"I love you John, I l-love you" he breathed, his voice quiet and trembling slightly. John kissed him again almost like a promise and could feel Sherlock leaning heavily into him, making him smile into the kiss.

Mrs Hudson walked in at that moment catching the boys off guard and chuckled to herself after letting out a squeal of happiness. John broke away and resolved to wrapping his arm around the detectives waist, who then responded by trying to hide his face in the soldiers neck.

John gently pushed Sherlock away from him and went to go help Mrs Hudson with the tea.

"There's a bedroom upstairs if you'll be needing two bedrooms" Mrs Hudson said with a chuckle.

"Of course we'll be needing two bedrooms!" John pretended to act affronted, as e caught sight of Sherlocks face over Mrs Hudsons shoulder, looking slightly disappointed, "Rosie's going to need her own room too" he pointed out.

He smiled to himself at the sudden wide eyed expression that Sherlock shot him before he suddenly looked down at his feet, blushing and a tiny smile on his face.

Mrs Hudson giggled and left the room, patting Sherlock on the shoulder as she left with a "be gentle with him", leaving the detective blushing even deeper.

John just chuckled once Mrs Hudson was gone and approached Sherlock who was still looking down at the floor with a look of shock still etched into his features. John wrapped both hands around Sherlocks hips and pushed him into the now closed door getting a groan from the younger man.

"Johnn-" Sherlock gasped as John pressed fully flushed against him and then kissed him deeply, getting a small moan from the back of the detectives throat.

"Yes Sherl?" John asked, dropping his voice down to a growl.

"Johnnn-" Sherlock groaned again, wrapping his legs around the doctors waist so he was suspended off the floor and John carefully carried him away from the door, after bolting it, and down the hallway.