Sherlock oneshots

Johnlock~ mind palace

John's pov

I arrived back at 221 Bakerstreet, kicking my shoes off at the door and attempting to slip off my rain soaked coat with only one hand.

It was poring with rain, but as it so happened we were out of milk, and I was positive Sherlock was not going to get any. So what choice did I have but to go shopping?

I climbed the stairs, panting a little as i reached the top. I pushed open the door and dropped my plastic bag of groceries, finally removing my coat.

I looked to Sherlock, he was exactly as I'd left him, lied down full width on the sofa, eyes shut with his lanky fingers in front of his mouth.

He was in his mind palace, as per usual. He could spend hours like that and not even realise it, no matter how inconvenient the situation, he'd still be in there for hours.

Sometimes I wondered if he was even awake, I mean, once I accidentally spilled his tea on his leg whilst he was like that, and cleaned it up and dried his trousers before he even came around. He never actually found out, or at least he didn't mention it.

Maybe he just didn't want to admit he was asleep. 'Sleep is for the small minded' he always said.

Or maybe he was just daydreaming, I knew all too well how zoned out I could get at times, but yet I'd never been as unresponsive as Sherlock was.

Or, he could be in his mind palace. Like he said he was.

I'd always wondered if he could hear me when he was in there, whether he could listen to me or remember I was talking. Whenever I'm upset or just need to vent, I'd always hope Sherlock would be absorbed in his little world, so I could talk, cry, or even shout my feelings to him.

Mind palace Sherlock is a better listener than actual Sherlock.

Part of me hoped he could hear me, or at least he knew what I was saying to him. I'd said some things I wanted him to know, some things I wished I hadn't, but in the end, I hoped he knew that-

"Sherlock?" I said. I was practically saying it to myself at this point, I knew he wouldn't answer. "Sherlock?" I SaId a bit louder, leaning over him.

Nope. He was out.

I took a deep breath, my heart in my throat. I'd been dying to do, something, while he was like this, something I wouldn't dare try when he was awake. This is the kind of thing I wished he couldn't hear, or remember.

I sat down beside the taller man, looking at his slender figure. I genuinely ran my hand threw his curly dark hair, rubbing his scalp lightly.

"I know you can't hear me, it's probably for the better that you don't. I've really been thinking, Sherlock, I've thought this over a lot, it's something I've kept to myself for ages." My words were coming out without them telling them to.

"I don't know what I am, 'I'm not gay I'm not gay!' That's all you're probably used to hearing from me, but all I am sure of is that I, i-" I felt my cheeks heat up, and a huge lump in my throat form that I just couldn't swallow. "I-I think I- I" yet I couldn't say it.

The words that had been floating around in my head for months, the word I thought about saying so much. I couldn't say it now.

Without thinking, I lent over Sherlock and kissed his limp lips, intertwining our lips in lust. I'd been waiting for this, too bad it was completely one sided, literally.

I pulled back reluctantly, wanting it to last longer. "I love you, Sherlock Holmes."

I stood over him for a moment, half expecting him to jump to life and slap me. But there was nothing, just his steady breathing.

I sighed with almost relief and clambered off on the sofa, picking up the plastic bag of shopping and heading to the kitchen. As I began to unpack the goods, I heard a groan. My heart stopped.

"John?" I peaked my head back into the living room and smiled at Sherlock, who'd shot up and was sat bolt upright. "Alright mate?" I chuckled nervously.

Sherlock rolled over and came into the kitchen, making me shiver as he nudged past me. I just wanted to know that he didn't hear me, or feel me.

"Raining?" He asked. I guess my sweater must have been damp. "Oh, yeah. I went shopping." He hummed in response.

"I'm going to oUt for a bit, might stop by the chippy on the way back if you wanted anything?" Sherlock said, taking his coat off the kitchen table and throwing it on. I sighed out, almost a little disappointed. I'd have to keep myself to myself, again.

"Um, no thanks I'm not hungry." I slurred slightly. Sherlock nodded and wrapped his scarf around his neck, coming towards me.

Without warning, he grabbed my wrists and lent in, kissing me. It was quick, but absolutely beautiful in the moment. He pulled back, meeting my gaping jaw and bright red cheeks.

He pulled back and met me with a calm face, like this was some kind of regular occasion. He went for the door. "I'll be back soon." He chirped.

"Um- s-sure okAy!" I stuttered, my voice cracking with nerve. He opened the door and turned to look at me. "Oh John, one thing."

"I love you too." He grinned and shut the door behind him.

My mouth stayed on the floor as I crept into a smile, rubbing my face slowly. That actually just happened, didn't it?

I just confessed my love for Sherlock Holmes, and he kissed me. I'd never been happier.

So, maybe he wasn't unreachable in his mind palace, or maybe he just really didn't want to go shopping. I'll never know, but who cares? I just possibly got myself a boyfriend...