The Gay Case

Chapter 32

Good different.

//Sherlock POV//

I really meant it this time. I love John Hamish Watson. For better or for worse.

I leant in and kissed him. Seeing as though the only other person I have kissed was Moriarty, I guess I was quite good at it. I hoped, anyway. And judging by the quiet moans escaping from his mouth, he was enjoying it.  I was too, I really was. Really.

The kiss never stopped. It just got much better, and after a few minutes, John pulled away for breath. We sat there, foreheads pressed together, noses just centimetres apart, staring into each others eyes, longingly.

John pressed his button-nose up against mine and smiled. Knowing what he was planning, I pushed my head forwards a millimetre or two and locked my lips onto his. A few seconds had passed before John brought his hand up to my chest and gently pushed me down onto my back.

Oh, God.

Present in bodily form but gone in soul, I jumped up and walked towards the bedroom, pulling John along by his right hand. As soon as I opened the door, I picked John up, bridal-style and carried him over to the bed, mouths still interlocked. We flopped down onto the bed and I brought my hands up to his shoulders,  forgetting one huge thing.

"Ow," he winced. "Shit, Sherlock, my shoulder."

"Clever use of alliteration," I replied, trying to lighten the mood. "Sorry, love." I carefully traced his battle wound with my finger, through his shirt. It was only then I realised I had never seen his scar.

//John POV//

"Ow," I cried out in pain. It still hurt. "Shit, Sherlock, my scar." I mumbled to him in particular.

"Clever use of alliteration. Sorry, love." Getting a shiver up my spine, I involuntarily shivered as he moved his fingers round the outline of my scar. No one has ever touched my wound. I thought, as Sherlock leant back in towards me. I really like this guy.

I chuckled at my own thought and smiled into the kiss.

I could get used to this!