John Watson and the Sociopath

Chapter 8

Is it possible to love someone too much? Could it hurt one's mental stability to exceed the breaking point of affection?

John thought it so. He had been to hell and back for loving Sherlock. He had experienced breaking out in hives at the thought of not being with him. He knew what it was like to love someone so much it was like a fever. And he knew he had to do something about it. He couldn't lose Sherlock again. Never again.

John couldn't just come out of nowhere and declare his undying love, though. Since the kiss, they hadn't really talked about the whole relationship thing. In fact, the hadn't really spoken about it at all.

But of course, John ended up having to anyway. One day, as Sherlock sat on the couch approxamatly six months after his return, Sherlock asked John, "Why?"

John looked at him uncertainly. "Why what?"

"Why did you stick up for me like you did in my absence? Why do you care so much?"

Ah. This again. John pondered on how to answer this. Then everything was clear. He would not leave anything unsaid. He would never make that mistake again. If he didn't say it now, he couldn't gaurantee he ever would.

He rose from his chair and sauntered over to Sherlock. Clamping his hands down on the taller man's knees, he leaned in close enough to smell Sherlock's shampoo. "Because," He whispered seductively.

"I..." Nip on the ear.

"Am..." Kiss on the jawbone.

"DESPERATELY..." Kiss on the cheek.

"In love..." Kiss on the nose.

Sherlock gulped, his heart racing and irises taken over by darkness. "W-well..." He stuttered stupidly. John looked deep into those black eyes.

"With you."

Sherlock didn't care what the sun revolved around, but when John kissed him, he knew that his entire universe had always revolved around John. He surged forward, grabbing John's jumper and pulling him closer. John fell into Sherlock's lap, and reached up to run his hands through that midnight mane as he had fantisized for so long. Sherlock gasped and parted his lips to deepen the kiss. With both men blinded by arousal and fighting for control, neither heard the door open.

CRASH!!!

John jumped away from Sherlock as if he had been shocked. Mrs. Hudson, red from embarrassment of waalking in on such an intimate moment, bent to pick up the plate of brownies she had dropped, turned and left without a word. Sherlock looked at John and they laughed until their sides hurt.