Johnlock Oneshots

It Started With Cuddles pt. 2

It went on for months, two years actually. Two years Sherlock and John were dating. Two happy years. They were even closer than when they were flatmates. They fought here and there, one would make the other sleep on the couch or in John's old room, but they always went to the other, waking them up and pulling them back to bed. They were always cuddling, at home, in a cab, on the tube, sometimes when they were working late on a case at the Yard, hell, just standing in line at Tesco Sherlock would wrap his arms around John and rest his chin on top of his head. It took a few weeks for John to decide how he wanted to propose to Sherlock, and eventually he got it. One morning, John slipped the ring on Sherlock's finger, waking him up and when he did, John asked the question and Sherlock said yes. 

It wasn't until five months later when they said their vows and exchanged the actual rings. Their honeymoon they rarely left the bed and had the time of their life.

The saddest day of John's life was just a year after their honeymoon. Sherlock had jumped from the roof of Bart's, John watching.

"Let me through," John said as he pushed past all the doctors and nurses surronding Sherlock's lifeless body. "He's my husband, please let me through." John kneeled down next to Sherlock, grabbing his wrist and checking for a pulse. "Sherlock..." 

The doctors and nurses pulled John away, setting him far away from Sherlock. He watched as they lifted Sherlock's body on a strech and taking him inside the hospital. John spent that night in the pub. He didn't have a lot to drink, maybe two or three, but he felt like it was a lot. He walked back to the flat, ignoring Mrs. Hudson and locking himself in his and Sherlock's room. He feel asleep once he hit the mattress. John woke up, forgetting about what happened and turned, expecting Sherlock to be there, but he wasn't.

"Sherlock?" John said, getting out of bed. He ran into the kitchen, finding Mycroft sitting in Sherlock's chair and Mrs. Hudson standing next to him.

"John," Mycroft started.

"It wasn't a dream." John said to himself. "Tell me when and where the funeral is and nothing else."

"You don't want to plan it?" Mycroft asked.

"When you love someone like the way I loved Sherlock, it's hard to plan their funeral, so no." John turned around and went back to his room, slaming the door.

Ever since Sherlock's death, John had a nightmare everynight, waking up covered in sweat, screaming Sherlock's name. He went out to the kitchen, not being able to fall asleep, and made some tea. Mycroft gave John Sherlock's coat, and every night after John had his tea, he'd wrap himself in Sherlock's coat and fall asleep in his chair. It went on for a while until John stopped sleeping overall. He quit his job at the clinic and was put on antidepressants. The pills made it easier for John to sleep and forget about Sherlock for the night. After a year, John got over Sherlock's death and moved on. He met a woman named Mary and the emptyness in John was filled.

After two years John was over Sherlock and he had a knew life with Mary, and he wanted to propose. So he set dinner reservations, taking Mary and not expecting Sherlock to be there.

"Oh my God!" Mary said.

"No, not exactly." Sherlock responded and looked down at John.

"You..." John trailed off, standing up.

Sherlock smiled at him. "It's me."

John stood up, hitting his fist on the table. His breathing got heavy as he grabbed Sherlock by the lepel of his tux, knocking him on the ground. They got kicked out and went to a diffrent restraunt. There, John headed Sherlock, making his nose bleed, and they got kicked out of that one as well.  John left to get a cab for him and Mary, leaving Mary and Sherlock alone. Sherlock didn't like Mary and could tell she was fake.

Around midnight that night, John showed up at the flat. Sherlock was awake and pacing around the living room.

"You know we're technically still married." Sherlock said.

"I know." John whispered.

"But you were going to propose to a woman. A woman John." Sherlock took his wedding ring off and held it in front of John's face. "We made a vow."

John looked up at Sherlock and pulled his ring out of his pocket and holding it in front of Sherlock. "'Till death do us part'." John said. "Death did up part and I moved on."

"No you didn't." Sherlock held John's hand, taking his pulse, and stepping closer. "Your pupils dilated and your pulse is quicking."

John looked Sherlock in his eyes. He let go of Sherlock's hand and put his ring on.

Sherlock put his ring on too and looked down at John. "Take me to bed, John." he breathed.

John nodded and pulled Sherlock down for a kiss, backing them to their room. He laid Sherlock down on their bed, closed the door, and got on top of  him. It was just like their first time, soft and gentle. Sweet kisses and loving words were exchanged. They both forgot how much pleasure it was to have eachother, to love each other.

John stayed that night, he held Sherlock as he slept, missing the warmth between them. Not even Mary could could warm John the way Sherlock did. He always went to bed feeling cold and it stayed that way.

Sherlock woke up without John next to him. He figured that would happen. Sherlock just stayed in bed and looked up at the ceiling.

It was a week before John spoke to Sherlock again. He showed up at the flat with a box of his stuff in his arms and a hopeful look on his face.

"I left Mary." he said.

"I see that." Sherlock said. "Your room is just the way you left it." he said and walked to his room, shutting the door and sitting on the bed.

John set his box down and walked to Sherlock's room, opening the door and looking at him.

"I'm sorry for just leaving you." John said.

Sherlock turned his back to John and laid down.

John sighed. "How else do you expect me to act after you just show up after three years of you being dead? I loved you Sherlock, and you just left me. I thought you loved me back."

"I was protecting you." Sherlock said, wiping the tears off his cheeks.

"You jumped off the roof of Bart's!"

Sherlock sat up quickly and looked at John. "Moriarty would've killed you! If I didn't jump, you'd be dead! I was protecting the man I love." he said and looked into his lap. "It was hard, staying away from you. I missed waking up to you and your tea, and your hedious junpers."

John got on his knees and looked at Sherlock. "I still love you." he said and rested his hands on Sherlock's knees. "Nothing changed between us. I just though Mary would be a distraction. I could never love someone the way I love you." John waited for a response, but Sherlock kept his head down. "Please answer me Sherlock."

Sherlock kept his head down.

John stood up and cupped Sherlock's cheeks, lifting his face. Sherlock closed his eyes so he didn't have to face John. He felt John's thumbs wipe his tears and that's when he opened his eyes and he was welcomed by the big baby blues that belong to John. He put his hand on John's and took it off his cheek, holding it.

"I love you." Sherlock whispered.

"I love you too." John whispered back, kissing Sherlock's forhead.

After a few weeks, things went back to the way they were before the fall. The lazy mornings were back, the cases, the tea, the smiles, and the cuddles. They both missed the cuddles. It was the cuddles that started them, and the cuddles that brought them back.

sorry for being dead and the terrible chapter