One shots (johnlock fluff mostly)

Youre--youre not john--

Sherlock lay curled up on his side, looking at the door, an arm draped over his waist, he wanted to leave, he didn't belong here. John. He missed John. But he needed to move on.

Well, I could kiss you like he did
Bet you wish I had his lips
But I don't, no, I don't
And I could hold you quite the same
Guess my arms don't seem as safe
When it's cold, when it's cold

Sherlock always pulled away when Jake leaned into kiss him, lips hadn't yet touched his won but he'd felt them on his neck and forehead, but he felt trapped. Laying in bed, back to a man he barely knew. He wasn't a threat but he wasn't John.

You got me feelin' like I don't deserve you
And I'm tryin' to deal with this pain
But it kills me 'cause I know you still love him

"What is wrong with you?" Jake asked one day when Sherlock denied him again.

"I--I can't!" Sherlock exclaimed doing his top button on his shirt up again, no, he couldn't do this.

He needed to get home. Back to Baker Street no matter how empty it was.

Well, I could kiss you like he did
Bet you wish I had his lips
But I don't, no, I don't
And I could hold you quite the same
Guess my arms don't seem as safe
When it's cold, when it's cold

Sherlock backed away, hooking the backs of his shoes back over his heels, having not bothered to untie the laces when he removed them his efforts were hardened but it took less time. He needed to get out of here, hand fumbling begging him for the tattered silver door handle.

Paint peeling off the walls and door, the single wallpaper feature wall faded and shredding.

No. He missed John. This wasn't John. Maybe if the same words had been said by a different voice, he might have said yes. He might have begged for it.

You got me feelin' like I don't deserve you
And I'm tryin' to deal with this pain
But it kills me 'cause I know you still love him
Tonight you gotta let go of someone
'Cause while you're holding on on what you had
You're not giving me a chance
To ever really be your man

Curled up at night. Back to the door. No one around. 221b empty. Only his breathing in the walls. So. So quiet. He couldn't breathe.

You say you're fine, you're moving on
Say that I'm the only one
But I know, yes, I know
That I'm in his shadow all the time
'Cause he still creeps up on your mind
Like a ghost, like a ghost

Pale skin. He'd lost weight. Cheekbones more defined. John looked at him like he always looked up at him. An inconceivable mix of concern and irritated fondness. He had been laying on the floor of 221b living room floor. Too tired of his life.

"Sherlock what are you doing?" John had asked.

You got me feelin' like I don't deserve you
And I'm tryin' to deal with this pain
But it kills me 'cause I know you still love him
Tonight you gotta let go of someone

He couldn't let go of John. John was his sun. He was the earth, he revolved around John.

'Cause while you're holding on on what you had
You're not giving me a chance
To ever really be your man

But if you let me, I could set your world on fire
Give you somethin' better than you've ever had
And if you let me in, girl we'd have everythin'
But it's like your heart is stuck in the past

Jake wasn't bad, he was taller than John. His muscles more pronounced, but it wasn't what Sherlock wanted, he had tried to move on and his failed attempts had upset someone else.

And it kills me 'cause I know you still love him
Tonight you gotta let go of someone
'Cause while you're holding on on what you had
You're not giving me a chance
To ever really be your man

"Sherlock. Can you hear me. Sherlock. Goddammit breathe!" John commanded as he felt for a non existent pulse on his still warm, rapidly decreasing, body. "Sherlock!!"