Secrets [Johnlock]

11: Introductions

With John's ever-busy work schedule resulting in less and less time spent with Sherlock, he was beginning to miss his boyfriend terribly. They could no longer shout at crappy TV shows at six o'clock or cook dinner at a reasonable time. Each evening consisted of a brief summary of one another's days, a few moments' peace and the occasional comforting kiss before going straight to bed for an early night. Sherlock would stay awake for hours after this, wishing for more time with John and an interesting conversation. Though, the doctor had to be up again at half past six and so compromises had to be made.

Since he and Sherlock had begun their relationship, John was constantly worrying if he was enough and asking himself what he could do to further the relationship and make the person he cared about the most happy. He felt he was a let down for having too constant a work-life and wanted to have more time at home. He wanted to talk and laugh and not worry about the next morning instead of sticking rigorously to a routine in order to get enough sleep. How was that fair on Sherlock? How could that benefit their relationship? Weren't couples supposed to make time for one another, no matter how difficult it seemed?

John tapped his foot anxiously as he approached Baker Street in the darkened taxi, no daylight available to highlight the interior. He rushed out quickly, desperate to see his lover once again. All day he had waited for this one moment and he jumped up each step to reach their flat.

"John," a rather excited voice exclaimed from the bathroom. Soon, a mop of damp curls emerged from the corner and embraced the smaller man, plain, white t-shirt soft against his rough coat. "How was work?"

"Good," he smiled, already kicking off his shoes to head upstairs. "I've finally managed to refer Mr Taylor to a chiropodist. How was the case Greg left you?"

"It was a seven. I solved it in five hours. The brother was in kahoots with the ex-nanny who buried the boy's plaster cast under the floorboards and sent him to live with her infertile boss in Kent under a new identity. All were using disposable phones to communicate back and forth and left seperate, erased phones for police to find. It had all been planned months in advance and the evidence had been burned. Social Services have brought him back."

"I'm proud of you, Sherlock."

The pair seemed to lose track of time completely when their routinely conversation became an excuse for loving gazes to be shared without a further word. If only nights could always be spent like this.

"Right then," John interrupted with an awkward cough. "I'm going to get changed and... maybe have a pot noodle."

Almost instantly, he had disappeared from sight and was now standing in his own bedroom, selecting a pair of pyjama bottoms and a tighter than preferred v-neck t-shirt from the middle drawer. He pulled them on quickly and ran back downstairs to eat his dinner. Thoughtfully, Sherlock had already boiled the kettle and it only had a couple of seconds remaining by the time John had returned.

Before he could thank the man for his gesture, the detective's arms had snaked around the doctor's waist and the two were now impossibly close. Butterflies filled the stomachs of them both, though neither wished to admit this.

"What's got you in such an affectionate mood?" John chuckled, reaching up to tap Sherlock's nose with his knuckle.

"I miss you when you're gone. I don't see you much."

"I know." He sighed, stirring the noodles around in the container. "I can't do much about it until we all change shifts. I'm hoping to reduce my hours, then I can come home earlier."

"I have a solution in the meantime. It's a big step though, so you're free to refuse."

"What is it?"

"Well, I was wondering if... You'd like to stay with me some nights. To sleep, I mean. In the same bed. Only for a few- you can decide which ones."

"You're cute when you're shy, Sherlock." John chuckled, taking a forkful of noodles with the taller man still attached to him.

"I'm not saying we should cohabit fully yet." He panicked, eyes darting around the room. "Just, it might be nice to... Share a bed now and then."

"Alright. Wednesday, Friday and Sunday." He confirmed after a moment's quiet pause. "That's okay, isn't it?"

"Why those?"

"Does there have to be a reason?"

"With you, yes."

"Okay. Wednesday because it's the middle of the week and I can look forward to it. Friday because it's the best day of the week-"

"Well..."

"No, it is. It is. And Sunday because it would make my Monday mornings better to wake up next to you. I don't want to put two days together yet in case it gets a bit full-on."

"Will we add more days eventually?"

"Maybe. Yes. I think so. And we can change them if they don't suit you."

"Ooh," Sherlock grinned, planting kisses on John's temple, cheek and neck despite him still eating. "Guess what day it is?"

"Wednesday." John grinned back, abandoning the food to engage in the play-fighting that began to occur. Both men giggled and tickled one another's sides until they reached the bedroom and Sherlock was gently pushed onto the bed. The wrestling returned to playful kissing and teasing, causing bolts of joy to shoot through them both.

"I'm going to brush my teeth, I'll be back soon."

In four minutes exactly, John was back in Sherlock's bedroom holding his phone (with an alarm already set) and a glass of water. Sherlock had clearly claimed his 'side' of the bed and was tucked tightly under the covers. John slid under to join him, feeling warmer and at ease in the new environment. He gazed up at the ceiling, then over to the wardrobe, to the periodic table on the wall and finally to the beside table were his possessions had been neatly placed.

"I'm not sure what exactly to do..." Holmes admitted, tensing up now that his plan had reached an impasse.

"In bed, you mean?"

"Yes. Are you comfortable like that?"

"Come here." The man did as he was told, edging closer and closer to John. His apprehension was soon eradicted when a firm hand held his shoulder, encouraging him to shuffle down the bed slightly to give the shorter man more space to breathe. From here, their legs remained interlocked and Sherlock protectively held John's waist, their chests rising and falling together.

What a perfect way to end the day.