Grind Me Down (Johnlock)

Chapter 14

***MONDAY***

Coming home from work Monday night, John felt himself tense when he realized Sherlock wasn't home. Thoughts of concern rushed to him, but he took a few deep breaths, calming himself down. Sherlock was an adult man who had survived for years on his own. John had to trust him, let him live his life. If he wasn't home before John went to bed, he'd text him then to check in. It's what any flatmate would do.

But they were more than that, weren't they?

Thoughts like that had been circling around John's head all day. He sighed as he started his workout, just wanting to do something normal and routine for a while. When he finished, he had a long shower, and made dinner, eating alone in front of the Telly. He put Sherlock's portion in the fridge.

It just felt too quiet, too dull, sitting alone in the apartment. With a sigh, he picked up his phone.

Hey, Sherlock, what are you...

Swearing softly, John deleted the message he started. No, they had spent the whole weekend together. It was healthy to be apart. See friends.

Hey Mike, it's been a while since we went for a drink. -J

---

Ten minutes later, he was pulling on his jacket, when the door opened. Sherlock entered, his eyes sweeping quickly over John.

Stepping closer, John planted a quick kiss on his lips. "Good evening. I'm just popping out for a drink with Mike. Dinner is in the fridge for you." And then he slipped out the door.

---

***TUESDAY***

Sherlock was there when John got home Tuesday night, and he felt sense of relief. Sitting down beside him on the sofa, John wasn't sure if he should kiss him hello, or cuddle against him.

Just like last night, when he'd gotten home a little inebriated to a dark apartment. He had stood at the bottom of the stairs, hesitating. Should he go into Sherlock's bedroom, strip and slip into his bed? Would he be welcome? Or should he give Sherlock some space? A night to himself. After a moment or two, he went up the stairs to his own bed.

"Have you eaten? I fancy some vindaloo, so hot it burns your tongue off." John finally said, trying to sound normal.

Sherlock gave him an assessing look. "Fine, order whatever you like." He looked down at his book, a thick tome on chemistry.

John had a hard time reading much from that. Shrugging, he placed a delivery order, and switched on the Telly. Just give it time.

The food came and John dished out a couple plates of it. It smelled delicious, and his stomach rumbled as he carried the meal to the living room. He passed one to Sherlock, and settled back in the sofa.

He breath caught when Sherlock sank down on the pillow in front of the sofa. His spot. He couldn't resist reaching out a hand to cup the nape of Sherlock's neck, pushing his hand upwards into his curls.

Sherlock leaned back into his touch, and it started a glow inside John. It was still there. Their connection. With a small squeeze, he let go to dig into his meal. After dinner, they could cuddle, touch more, maybe make-out like they used to.

Just as they were done eating, Sherlock's mobile binged, and he looked at the screen. Immediately, he jumped up and was pulling on his Belstaff. He paused, turning back to John. "Um, Lestrade texted that he has the wife's sister at the Yard, for questioning."

John's heart sank. "Oh...well, yes, of course. You must go. Um, see you when you get back."

Sherlock nodded, and was at the door when he paused again, looking back at John over his shoulder. "Come with me?"