A/N Hey My Lovelies!!!! here is a cute, kinda slightly angsty one for you.....good luck...Enjoy<3
John had seen Sherlock shirtless many times over the years, when he patched the reckless man up after a rough case, or when the lazy git couldn't be bothered to put on any more than a sheet when he finally rolled out of bed. But since they finally stumbled into bed together, finally falling into each other's arms after too many years and mistakes, John never saw Sherlock's bare chest in the daylight.
When they were intimate, Sherlock either insisted the lights stayed off, or that John take him from behind. He never wanted to shower together, and always wore a shirt.
At first, John didn't notice anything was wrong, too lost in the haze of love and disbelief that he was finally with Sherlock.
Then one night he came home from the clinic to find Sherlock draped over the sofa, wrapped in nothing but a sheet. He looked so young when he slept, all the lines of stress and worry fading from his face. John ran his eyes over the still form, his gaze lingering on Sherlock's chest.
His heart stuttered when he saw the scar on the pale chest. Physical proof of the terrible mistake he had made. Together, they had eradicated every trace of Mary Morstan from John's life after she had shot Sherlock and left with the baby, but that little mangled chunk of skin would remain forever.
He took a steadying breath and walked into the kitchen, blinking away tears.
"I'm fine John!" Sherlock snapped, brushing John's hands away from his shirt buttons and wincing. They had been on a case when their suspect jumped them, attacking Sherlock with a knife. The detective had sustained a cut to his chest, and was now denying John's attempts to clean and dress the wound.
"He could have killed you Sherlock! Just let me look-"
"No! I'm fine John, just leave me alone!" John felt a flash of frustration and tugged at his hair.
"Is this because of your scar?" He asked before he could stop himself and instantly regretted asking. Sherlock tensed and his jaw tightened in anger before he pushed past John, storming off to his room and slamming the door. "Sherlock, Love come back, please." John followed the angry man, trying to push the door open but finding it locked. "Babe, please don't do this. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned your scar." Something crashed against the door, making John flinch away.
"Go away." John's heart broke as he realized what was happening. He had hurt Sherlock and now he had lost him, again.
"No, Sherlock please. Let me in, I-I can fix this-"
"Leave me alone!" Sherlock shouted, and John felt his soul crumble. He turned and leaned back against the door, sliding down and pulling his knees to his chest, hiding his face and sobbing.
He stayed there until he fell asleep, only vaguely aware of Sherlock picking him up and carrying him to bed.
When he finally woke up, his eyes were dry and scratchy and his body was screaming at him, but he was wrapped in Sherlock's arms.
"Sherlock?" His voice was raspy and rough, and he winced as he pushed himself to his elbows.
"Go back to sleep John."
"No. No I need to say something." John pushed Sherlock onto his back and climbed onto his lap, tugging at the thread-bare t-shirt the younger man was wearing. Sherlock fought for a moment, but quickly stopped when John sent him a warning glare.
He wrestled the shirt off Sherlock and reached to turn on the bedside lamp, stopping Sherlock's hands before they could cover the scar. He gripped both wrists in one hand and pinned them above Sherlock's head, using his superior strength to hold the thin man down.
"John-" The doctor ran the fingers of his free hand down the exposed skin of Sherlock's chest, tracing the shape of the scar in the middle of his lover's chest. He heard Sherlock's breath catch and felt the man turn his head away.
"Why are you ashamed of this?" John whispered, forcing himself to focus on comforting the man beneath him, rather than the feel of Sherlock's skin. The detective mumbled his response, the words getting lost in the crook of his elbow. John grabbed his chin gently and forced him to meet his eyes.
His heart broke when he saw tears on Sherlock's cheeks.
"Babe, what's wrong? Why does this scar upset you so much?" Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut and heaved an unsteady breath. "Talk to me Love."
"It ruined me for you." Sherlock barely whispered the words, but they hit John like a freight train. "When we first started this, you told me that you found me beautiful, that you had been waiting for years to be with me." Sherlock's voice was breaking and John released his hands, pulling his lover in for a tight hug. "I'm not that perfect being you fell in love with and I knew that if you saw the scar you would be reminded of that an not want me anymore." John burrowed his face in the crook of Sherlock's neck and sobbed.
"How could you think that about me? What have I ever done to make you think I would hurt you like that?" John pulled back just enough to press gentle kisses to reluctant lips. "The only thing that scar makes me think of, is how close I came to losing you, and how much my mistake cost you." John moved his kisses along Sherlock's jawline and down along his neck. He felt Sherlock's hands gripping his shoulders too tight as he started making his way across the man's pale chest.
He came to a stop just above the scar, glancing up and catching Sherlock's eyes.
"This scar reminds me of everything I would do to ensure I never come that close to losing you again." He lowered his lips to the mangled skin and sucked gently on the mark. He knew from experience how sensitive scars could be, and decided to test Sherlock's.
"J-John-" Sherlock gasped, his hands automatically threading in John's hair and his back arching slightly.
John sat back taking one of Sherlock's hands and pressing it against his own scar, resting one of his hands on Sherlock's scar. He leaned down and kissed his lover deeply, licking gently into his mouth and biting lightly on his bottom lip.
"We're a matched set, you and I. Two little broken pieces of china that shouldn't really go together, but the cupboard wouldn't be the same without them. The strange, mismatched cup and saucer that becomes your default. Both missing a few chips here and there, but better together than apart." John spoke the words against Sherlock's lips and between kisses. "I love you Sherlock Holmes, and I love your scars." Sherlock sat up against John and gripped his waist, catching his lips in a needy kiss.
"I love you too, John Watson." They kissed for a while longer, but John pushed Sherlock's hands away when the man tried to start undressing him.
"No, you have to let me look at that cut first."
"Hmm, it doesn't hurt-"
"I don't care Love, it could get infected." Sherlock whined and tried to tug at John's belt again, but his hands were stilled by John's. "Babe, let me look at the wound, and I promise I'll fuck your gorgeous brains out." Sherlock whimpered when John leaned in and bit his earlobe softly before whispering darkly in his ear. "Behave or I won't let you play." Sherlock nodded desperately and followed John into the kitchen.
Despite his insecurities, Sherlock made an effort to not hide from John again, and whenever John got the chance, he would kiss Sherlock's scar and remind the man of how beautiful he was, no matter what.
